I Don't Want to be a Masochist Anymore

Today, I finished a novel called Call Me by Your Name by Andre Aciman. It made me realize something... I no longer wish to be a masochist.

When did I become a masochist? I don't know. Perhaps when I first fell in love and got hurt. After that, I probably started to believe that by being hurt I would be loved. I assumed that the person the people men who would hurt me would consequently nurse my wounds as well. Ultimately, I want to be loved. However, I thought being hurt was a primary requirement.

Even when I knew that being hurt was wrong I still chased after those that hurt me. I thought that if they could hurt me, they might also be strong enough to protect me. To love me. I wanted them to take responsibility for me.

I stayed passive. I kept myself weak and compliant. It was what they expected of me. No one else wanted me. They at least agreed to pay attention if I became what they wanted me to be. I was alone. I lost myself. I didn't want to be alone anymore. I was willing to be anything just so I wouldn't be alone.

I convinced myself that I was weak. I told myself countless times that I am worthless, unwanted, and hopeless. I rhetorically asked myself, "For all those that die unjustly, get raped, and beaten, what makes you think God would cater to your desires? Why would God give you someone to love and love you in return?" I would respond to myself and say that I deserve to be loved. But didn't the others deserve to be loved as well? I had no more answers. My mind grows tired every time I ask myself such questions.

I merely saw myself as an instrument for other people's desires. Yes, use me. Yes, abuse me. Just, please, give me time to be desired. I came to see abuse towards myself as sexually arousing. To be dominated over, isn't it exciting? To be pinned to a bed and ravaged by a man stronger than me? For a man to do what he pleases with me, cast me away when he's done, and return only when he wants more? At one point, I thought so... But I know it is wrong. I know that such thoughts were doing nothing more than hurt me. No pleasure. No ultimate benefit. Just hurt.

I made myself worthless.

Perhaps it was inevitable for me to realize that I was irrationally hurting myself. Maybe it was unavoidable for me to accept that I don't want to be hurt by my own self or by anyone else. I learned how to say no to those that only wanted to take advantage of me. I came to acknowledge that I do have worth. I've yet to fully grasp the true breadth of my worth as a person. A person who deserves to be loved. I'm working on it.

Maybe I won't find that one person for me to love and to love me in return. Perhaps we'll find each other too late. It's possible that he may not exist for me. It's a horrible possibility, but it's true. Nonetheless, I still deserve to be loved without hurt. I want to be loved without hurt.

I want a man to be gentle with me. To be passionate with me. To have no intention of hurting me. I want us to be honest with one another in body, heart, and mind. To trust each other with our naked, vulnerable selves and trust that we wouldn't hurt each other. I want to be able to look into his eyes and not see eyes of contempt or cold, heartless, animalistic desire. I want to see the eyes of someone who sees me, acknowledges me, desires me to be a part of him and him a part me, and to experience the highest point of pleasure we could reach together.

I want a man to think of me as his equal. I want him to love me. I want him to allow me to love him. I want someone who sees me as worth protecting as I do him. I want him to help me heal old wounds. I want him to desire me as an intellectual counterpart, an emotional lover, and as a sexual being--as a whole being. I want him to respect me. I want him to be able to say no to me when he knows I'm wrong. I want him to help me learn what is right. I want us to help each other.

I want us to think of each other as equals. I want us to love one another. I want us to desire one another as an intellectual counterpart, an emotional lover, and as a sexual being--as a whole being. I want us to respect each other. I want us to be individuals and not be afraid to say no to one another when we know the other is wrong. I want us to help each other learn what is right. I want us to live, love, and grow alongside one another.

It may be too much of me to ask, but I deserve to at least give myself a chance. 

Let Go

My esthetician told me that I need to get my stress in check. She said that the source of my problem is predominantly a combination of the day-to-day stress I experience and the constant shifts in weather. She advised that since I can't control the weather, I need to keep my stress in check. She added that puberty is probably no longer the primary culprit in making my hormones go haywire, but constant stress. It makes sense.

I'm neurotic. I worry about things that I know are out of my control. I've always thought of the worst case scenario when walking into situations, thinking that I'm preparing myself. I'm always living in my head trying to over analyze the world outside of it. I constantly try to predict how the world perceives me, when in truth what the world thinks of me is not my business. The gist of it is that I just need to let go.

In a few days, I'll be starting school. In a few months, I'll be leaving for Rome. It's time to let go of the things that should not and do not matter. I need to get a grasp of who I am and what is truly important.

Love Thyself

I need time to discover myself. I've spent so much time trying to find people to attach myself to that I lost my senses in all the chaos. I forgot that I could be a stand alone person that others could gravitate to. A person others can identify with instead of identifying myself in relation to others. I allowed myself to be blown  here and there, back and forth by the opinions and criticisms of others. I lost myself, my sense of pride and respect for the person that I am... Whoever that may be.

I tried to find love in others without realizing that I couldn't love them. In my eyes, showing that I needed them was love. I honestly didn't know what love was. Perhaps I still don't. I told men that I wanted them, desired them, needed them. Is that love? To want and desire for the sole sake of having, but have nothing to offer? No. It can't be. It no longer makes sense to me.

I need to love myself in order to know what I can offer. In order to know what I'm worth. I'm still learning. It's a path I've rarely taken, if at all. Sure, I've avoided harm, pain, and heartache, but is that love? Could I call it love when all that has driven me are my superficial desires directed towards another and the avoidance of harm? Did I ever think to offer myself to myself? Did I ever think to give myself the pleasures that I wanted from others? How foolish was I to not look to myself for the simplest yet most enigmatic of things? Love.

I am capable of love. Everyone is. I think so, at least. However, I never asked myself if I could be capable of loving myself. To love oneself. It sounds good, doesn't it? A perpetuating cycle of confidence, validation, strength, happiness, and hope. Could that be right? Can I define self-love as that? The will to give oneself undeterred hope for the future, validation of worth, and all-encompassing happiness? Who would get in my way? It would be a relationship between me... and me. It's beautiful. I want it for myself.

To want such beautiful things for myself. That's the first step right?

The Grass Looked Greener in the Past

This was me no more than two-three years ago. Can you believe it?

Back then, I thought I was fat and ugly. I was ashamed of being surrounded by big groups of people (e.g., parties, eating out, going to the mall) because I was ashamed of being seen. I was ashamed of myself.

I took pictures to compensate for how I perceived myself. I thought that if I could take a few pictures that others would perhaps find attractive, they could convince me that I was attractive. Yes, the pictures I took were nice, but inside I still felt ugly and undeserving. I realized that even if I could change every physical aspect of me, the ugliness I perceived would not change. What I saw was not the problem, but how I saw it.

Now that a few years have passed, the person in the picture seems like a separate entity from me. A person whose attractiveness I can appreciate. I wish I could be that person again. Perhaps I am still this person. Perhaps nothing has changed. I just wish that the beauty I can now see in my past is something I can appreciate in my present self. Maybe, just maybe, in some time, I will look back and appreciate the person sitting in front of this computer. However, I really want to look at myself in the present moment and see the beauty in what is now.

Staying True to Myself

Since my last post, I've quit my retail job. I did a no-call, no-show last night, to be exact. I wrote up my two weeks notice and was planning to turn it in during my shift Friday night. However, I decided against it and decided that sleeping on it for another day would be wise. I'm sure the fact that my new hot coworker asked for my number that same night had something to do with it. Also, my shift that night wasn't too bad, which made me realize that I should thinks things through a little more. However, in the end, I decided that working in retail just wasn't for me. I couldn't endure going back in for another day, so enduring another two weeks was really out of the question. Yes, it was unprofessional of me to abandon my job, but I really couldn't put myself through anymore of it.

Hey, I wasn't under contract and both parties have the liberty to cut ties with no fair warning. They could fire any employee without any warning, often on the spot, which I'm sure they do. On the contrary, rarely does an employee practice his/her freedom to cut ties with a job in such a manner. (Way to rationalize)

1) I dreaded coming in everyday.
2) I didn't feel happy on the job for the most part.
3) The customers were inconsiderate.
4) Some of my coworkers were overly-pretentious beyond their payroll.
5) Even seeing my check couldn't make me say, "It's worth it."

The managers loved me and most of the employees loved me as well, so I didn't leave because of conflict or anything like that. After my first day on the job, one of my managers said that she'd love to suggest me for a promotion me due to my exemplified work ethic, ability to adapt quickly, and my positive attitude. The job itself was going well for me in terms of my ability to do the job, but the job just didn't resonate with what I wanted out of my time... or life.

Before getting this retail job, I idealized the idea of working in fashion retail. Being able to dress up, not having to physically strain myself, and gaining fashion-related knowledge as well as experience seemed so attractive to me. Unfortunately, it wasn't what I expected. I became more self-conscious... more than I would have liked. I was mentally, emotionally, AND physically exhausted after each of my shifts.

I believe that I was pushing myself to be something I wasn't or didn't want to be. I had this ideal self-image of being fashionable and working in retail in the city. After obtaining the opportunity to be "that person", I felt so out of touch with myself. I found myself more stressed, temperamental, and simply unhappy. I realized that I was trying to force myself into a mold I simply could not fit into. I was starting to resent myself and not even realize it.

A few hours before my last attended shift, I went to Evanston to watch a movie before heading to work. I had an hour or so to spare before my movie showing, and since I was in the area I visited my previous employment to say hi to my former coworkers. My general manager was there and I chit-chatted with her a bit. I became pretty nostalgic and started to compare my time there and my experiences at my retail job. With the former, I may have felt physically exhausted by the end of my shifts, but I enjoyed what I did. I laughed, joked, and really felt a sense of family with them. On the contrary, with my retail job, I felt like an outsider. Sure, it was a new job and everyone feels like an outsider when starting at a new place. However, I felt like even when I would try to include myself and be open, I would be disrespected. There was a sense of authenticity and warmth lacking whenever I would interact with a few of my retail coworkers. It was a job and we can't always expect to like where we work, but when I couldn't even say that the money or experience was worth it, I realized that I was exposing myself to unnecessary hardship.

So I quit. I'm happier. I find myself more at ease. I came to the conclusion that I don't have to work with clothes at minimum wage in order to feel good about myself physically or to consider myself fashionable. If I do have an interest or passion for fashion, then it's something that should be exemplified by my lifestyle in general, and not something I have to explicitly force on myself.

I believe that I've chosen the right path for me by letting go of my exaggerated ideal self-image.

Sure, jobs are hard to come by and there are those that aren't fortunate enough to be hired in this economy, but why waste your limited time in this world enduring a job you are unhappy with? No job is worth crying over, losing sleep over, or stressing over when you're not even on the clock. I want to work to live, but not live to work.

A New Dawn

It's been over week since I've written. Frankly, I just haven't had the energy to actually manifest the things I've felt and thought into words that others could understand. For the past week or so, I would think about writing, but I found myself unable to act on it. I believe that I just needed some time to get get away... some time to escape from analyzing and admitting to what I've been feeling and thinking. To write means to become fully cognizant of what I feel, believe, and think; that is what writing means to me and I just had to stop before I sank myself too deep into my emotions.

I compare the past week or so to the progression of the day from dawn to morning. For the past week, I felt as if I had woken up too early in the day and the sun had yet risen. Dawn, that time in the day when everything around you is still encased in darkness, everything is silent, still, and it's too cold to get out of bed; that is how the world has felt for me in the past week or so. I found myself separated from the rest of the world as I looked out from the warmth and certainty of my figurative bed. I detached myself from the world because it was just too much for me to handle. It was just too sad.

Fortunately, recently, things have gotten better. I've surrounded myself with friends that have been showing me a better, more optimistic perspective on life. My friend A., especially, recently showed me that the world isn't necessarily the enemy nor is it the bearer of misfortune. It's interesting that she's come across her fair share of heartache, betrayal, and sorrows, yet she can still smile back at the world. Previously, I was only aware of my perspective of the world (cold, selfish, manipulative, and perhaps even menacing) and those that shared the same view. What I solely knew was what I considered to be a universal truth; I knew no better. After my conversation with A., she made me realize that the way I saw the world was not as objective of a view as I previously thought. She made me realize that it's not the world that hurts us, but ourselves. It reminds me of the psychology term "self-fulfilling prophecy". We see ourselves being hurt and betrayed, therefore we unwittingly put ourselves on the path of being hurt and betrayed.

Sure, there are those that intentionally hurt us, but it's how we see the experience that matters. To be deliberately hurt for reasons far from justified reason, or the lack of any reason at all, can be painful, but the pain is only temporary. What is long-lasting, perhaps even permanent, is what we take from it. Do we fight back? Do we hold a grudge? Or do we move on, decide that we were the better person in the given situation(s), and live our lives free from the weight of scorn?

I've lived far too long holding my fists in front of me. Frankly, I feel as if being on the defensive for so long has kept me from truly living. I want to let the world in: the pain, the happiness, the sorrow, the bliss. Whatever happens, as long as I make sure that I did the best I can to live virtuously, compassionately, and lovingly, I can tell myself that my life was worthwhile.

The best I can do and should do is open my heart. The rest is left for the world to decide.

Self-Esteem Issues

I used to not be as insecure as I am today. In the past, especially during my middle-school years, I didn't give a shit about what others thought about me. All right, perhaps that's not entirely true, even though I was aware of the negative criticisms, I never let it affect me. I was flamboyant (borderline flamer), expressive, and most important of all, I was happy.

At some point, I changed. I admit I have become jaded. Even though I told myself that I will never become jaded or consider myself a victim, I still turned out to be. I was so afraid of becoming something that the fear of becoming "it" kept me from seeing my very fears creeping up on me. At one point, I was an expressive person; I took pride in that. Everything that I felt and thought, I was able to verbalize in words. People admired how in-tuned I was with my emotions. I was never confused or uncertain about how I felt and I always trusted my intuition.

Whenever I take a step forward, I become afraid and take two steps back. Whenever opportunities were presented to me, I would get ahold of them, then let go too soon. I have become so afraid and so affected by others' opinion of me that my own opinion became lost to them. Often, I thought, "I don't deserve this positive opportunity," or, "someone else is more well-deserving." What I thought others thought of me became my thoughts, my opinions, my direction. I became so afraid to commit because I didn't know when in the future I would be let down again. I became a gray canvas because I am too afraid to be my inherent self, too afraid to be criticized, too afraid to be alone. I was a gray canvas, not blank, because there is a self I am aware of, but have tried over and over again to paint over.

I am where I am now because I am in between two phases. I have let others determine who I am, yet I am aware of the individuality I possess. There is conflict between two identities as one is a part of me that wants to be accepted (no matter the cost), therefore passively letting others determine my identity, and the latter that desires me to stand for something, to stand up for myself, to express the opinions and thoughts I've come to suppress, and to just be me.

I don't know what specifically changed me. Sure, I could think of key events in my life that might have steered me towards the direction I am facing today, but I'd rather not dwell on them. Dwelling on the past would only tempt me to rationalize what has already happened and make excuses out of them. At this point, I've already made too many excuses, I've mourned and reflected, and now it's time to move on. Where exactly do I move on from here?

How can I reconcile the two and be the person that will make me the happiest?

In the Eyes of the Beholder

Last night, rather than being a productive individual, I spent my time looking through profiles on a certain social networking/dating site. As I glanced through profiles, one in particular stood out: that of a severe burn victim. As an individual's picture is the first thing one would see, what I initially noticed was the severity of his burns. The first thought that came into mind was, "What happened?" As I further read through his profile, I learned that he is around my age, he's going to school for his bachelors in psychology (like me),  and he had spent over a decade at a burn victim camp.

What I found to be really fascinating was the optimism he had displayed throughout his written profile. He wrote about going to school for psychology, his desire to become a counselor at the camp he attends and help other burn victims, his love for laughter, etc. Even though he had gone through something so tragic, he is still able to face the world with certainty and confidence; he truly exemplifies what it means to be resilient.

It has definitely made me reevaluate my own situation and the way I perceive my life. Yes, I was always cognizant of the fact that there are others who are not as fortunate as me in some way or another. Unfortunately, it's hard for me to close or even bridge the empathy gap between myself and those that are supposedly in worse situations. I have always told myself that I should live for those that were not fortunate enough to have the same liberties and opportunities as me; it's similar to when your parents tell you not to waste food because there are starving children in the world, but the thought is more self-driven. I can appreciate the significance of such a statement. Previously, bringing such concepts to the forefront of my awareness never made much of a difference. I have the great fortune of going to university, I have parents that financially support me, I have a home to return to whether it be on campus or at my parents', yet I must admit that I don't appreciate them as much as I would like to. To know that I am in a better position in society compared to others should motivate me to take full advantage of what I have been fatefully given, yet I find myself slacking.

Previously, my focus was often on what others have better than me and what my misfortunes are. I criticize myself for having mild acne that leaves superficial scars, being a minority in the gay community and not being seen as attractive by the majority subgroup within said community, etc. By identifying with the man mentioned above, I'm able to see the world in a more universal perspective. Also, I've come closer to setting my priorities straight and I'm increasingly gaining the motivation to strive for something. I believe that I am no longer just cognizant of my great fortune and liberty, but I can actually use my knowledge and awareness to actively live. There was no emotional connection with what I knew, hence why I could not appreciate and/or take full advantage of what I have and what I know I can attain.

By disregarding the opportunities and fortune fatefully (or arbitrarily) given to me, I would be disrespecting not only my own self-interest, but also those that are in less fortunate situations than I am. I can pay homage to those that could have best utilized what I have by living my life the best that I can.

La Dolce Vita

"Once the Present has come to Past, there is no need to question it. What you choose for yourself at this very moment is not bound by time occurred." 

So I just finished watching Under the Tuscan Sun. I always viewed this movie as the ideal for how I wish to live my life. There is a specific character in the movie by the name of Catherine who tells the protagonist that she shouldn't lose the child within herself, that innocence that keeps us laughing and seeing hope in life. I couldn't help but smile throughout the film. I felt a true connection with the idea of living in a place like Italy, perhaps Tuscany specifically.

I've never been to Italy, but perhaps that should be my goal: visit, live, love in Italy. For the past few years I've been taking French and I thought that I might as well continue with it through college. My reason for this? Simply thinking of the regret of how I have possibly spent six or so years of my life learning a language I no longer have passion for. Perhaps I should take that as a sign and run with it. The fact that I can outright say that I no longer have a passion for the French language, it's time to move on. I guess I can relate that to other situations in life (i.e. love, friendships, work, etc.). As I said above, "Once the Present has come to Past, there is no need to question it. What you choose for yourself at this very moment is not bound by time occurred." When you're committed to something with no passion or genuine belief in what you're doing, it loses meaning, it becomes worthless.

What has already occurred is now a matter of fact, but the future, even the present for that matter, is still left for us to mold. Why let the past guide our future? By looking to the past and keeping ourselves on the same path because of the fear of regret, we only keep ourselves in fear, and we come to resent our whole being for it. Somewhere, somehow, I feel as if I've regained my personal muse. I now feel a desire for something, a desire to truly live. I've finally decided that I will go to Italy by the Winter/Spring of 2012 and spend my second semester of junior year in Rome. I will put French aside for now and take on Italian. If French is the language of love, then Italian must be the language of passionate love. 

Some might see the decisions I've made or will make as foolish, but that's life. This is how I see life. This is how I want to live life. I don't want to live believing that either I will find satisfaction in what I have or it's just the inevitable misfortune I was fatefully dealt with. I don't believe that. I want to live with hope, with desire, with passion. I truly do believe that I've once again found that inspiration to live. It wasn't a momentous moment by any superficial standards, but inside me I feel that I've find a piece I needed, but did not know. 

I can't look back. I don't want regret or doubts to stop me. This is one of those moments when I truly have to grab a hold of myself and believe. I must have faith.

Visage

I always wondered what it meant to be pretty, to be handsome, to be beautiful. I always believed that there is something beautiful about someone. Even if they're not breathtaking, they have at least one thing they could be complimented on. Yet when I reflect on myself, I can see the things I want to appreciate, yet I can't get myself to do so.

I look in the mirror and I see the things I like, but then my mind turn to thoughts on how others would perceive me. I wonder whether people outside of myself, beyond my own sights, would see what I see. I wonder if they would see beauty. Of course, it's irrational of me to believe that there is some sort of universal opinion as to whether someone is beautiful or whatnot. I mean, there are those that automatically catch our attention and there are those that we can give a few compliments to. I know that I'm not the former, but to think that what we can attain, even if it is something we never truly had control over, is limited to the latter, it's upsetting at the least.

Is it possible to see beauty in oneself? Is it possible to find that belief and self-sufficiently fuel it with no dependency on those external to us? I've come across a few people that seem to not give a shit about what others think and find confidence within themselves, yet through an internal perspective, I feel as if everything I believe, feel, and see is based on external opinion; specifically, how I see myself. I want to believe that I'm someone of worth, someone worth loving, someone who deserves to be happy, someone who is beautiful. Yet contrary to my desires, I feel as if my worth as a person, my worth as a beloved, whether I deserve to be happy or not, and whether I am attractive all depends on how others see me... Is it possible to find worth in ourselves? To see ourselves as being worthy and beautiful even if the world disagrees?