momo's world

Recently, a lot of things challenging me have been highlighted. Whether it is through friends, significant other, or simply reliving a past experience, I find myself oblivious to my mental blockage. For instance, I was reading up on my previous messages with my ex...and it really hurt to see the way I responded to him while he was really trying hard to understand and help us grow together. I was caught up in my predisposed image of him thinking up issues that weren't necessarily real. I felt that he had it so easy in his life and that nobody can understand where I come from. Maybe in a way that was how I justified my actions/attitude towards life. Nonetheless, it was not the correct way to treat another being nor was it reasonable to have such high expectation from another.

 My friend brought to my attention that my competitiveness is very unhealthy. I don't know if it is the way he said it, or because it really hit the true core of the monster I have been feeding, or because I knew he wasn’t attacking me but rather saying this from the care of his heart, it really stung. I started to think about where else my competitiveness seeped into my life. The answer was hard to swallow as it steeped in all aspects --- school, relationships, body image, or self love. It was unhealthy. I was constantly comparing myself to others, and I would feel a bit better if I thought I was doing better off than others...but was this the better off that really satisfied my hunger for approval? 

Growing up, I was in constant battle of proving myself. I really thought it was something that stemmed from proving to my mother that I was worthy of her time, of her giving up her early 20s. But really I was proving to myself that I was worth it. Nothing quite made me feel worth anyone's time. I pretend as though I have self love, that I have self care, that I know my self worth...but here I am, constantly comparing myself to others, putting myself through expectations and challenges that makes me question my life. I lost sight of what makes me happy, my purpose in life, and who I am at heart. I felt the constant overthinking, analyzing, and worrying fogging my mind. It was as though I was at a play and the stage curtains never lifted.

I started to dive into the bottom of the ocean I had sunk myself into. It’s a lot of heavy emotions that I had weighed myself down with. These past few days, thinking in solitude, confronting my heart has brought me to tears many times and I’m afraid that I won’t ever heal. 

As I inhale a fresh breath of air, close my eyes and let it my emotions spill over, I hear someone whisper, trust the process.

When I first started to orient myself in this hot mess of mine, my heart kept pulling me towards my younger self. The coping mechanism I learned from losing a father at a young age. A simple way of adapting into my new reality, I had denied the pain of losing a father. Anytime I was tended to this part of me, I saw that it was flooding and I chose to look the other way. I did not have the time to deal with past experiences. I didn’t enjoy being associated with the constant pity that people would have when they hear that my father passed in a terrorizing 9/11 event. One of my ways to cope with these emotions was to pretend that it was not something that could really affect me. I believed that any sign of weakness would have people question my entire life with pity all because a single man’s choice shifted my life into an alternate world. I didn’t want him to have that power over me. In my high school years I even came to the conclusion of forgiving Osama bin Laden. I just really didn't want to lose my life to him, he had already taken my father. So I acted tough, not phased by the consequences of his actions. Maybe that is partially where my competitiveness stems from? I would constantly compare myself to those around me who had father. I was so envious. I hear friends say “dad” or “daddy” and I would feel resentment. I never mentioned anything regarding this to anyone because I don’t want to get those pity eyes or seem weak. I used to make up stories that my father died a hero so I could feel like I didn’t miss out on not having a father. Other times, I would imagine that he was just away for work on a long trip. I would try using those nouns that identifies with a father figure, and caught myself in a pickle. What do I call him? I realized that it was absolutely unnatural for me and felt uncomfortable. 

Eventually, I could convince myself that I was better off, but in reality, I was not. The constant battle of comparing myself to those around me and wondering why I didn’t have what they had. It’s been tough pretending like some life event 19 years ago hasn't affected me...because I didn't allow myself to heal, I let the wound escalate into feelings of unworthiness, incompetence, and constant seeking for approval. As a child, it is hard to understand the cruelty that a human life can go through. That a person can take another’s life instantaneously without any real reason. I remember I used to think that if only I wasn’t born, if only he didn’t need that job in World Trade Center, that his life could have been spared. These thoughts never really left me. Later, as I grew older and ready to apply to a university, I found out with the scholarships that families of 9/11 victims received and the money my father had left me, I was free of college debt. I was so fortunate. I’m have a head start considering I didn’t need to work during school. I was so lucky! SO fortunate!!! But slowly that turned to haunt my thoughts. Was my education worth my father’s life? The fortune I had been granted put a price to my father’s life and I was reaping the benefits. It’s one things to be told how much your father's life was, I couldn't help but feel completely guilty knowing that not everyone could receive education free of debt like myself. I honestly pretended I was in debt just like everyone else. Another reason for my need to prove myself. I needed to know, completely by my heart that his life was not wasted. I needed to know that I didn’t cost his life for nothing; that I was capable of surviving. 

Have you ever had a moment in your life where you can see each of the choices in front of you play it out if you were to choose one over the other? Similar to choosing an avatar in a role-playing game, the choices you make add to your personal story in an endearing way. For instance, choosing who to hang out with. Maybe you want to hang out with person A, a donut maker, and end up learning the where the perfect donut shop is. Or you hang out with person B, a trekker, where you learn all the hidden cool spots in the trails around you. Possibly person C, a music lover, teaches you all the different class of music and how the industry works. It’s like seeing into an alternate universe of what could have been (perhaps is from a different angle). 

Seeing it so clearly that maybe whatever option you choose doesn’t make a real difference? Because at the end of the day, no matter who you choose to surround yourself with, activities you participate in, are all leading to the same learning experience. Eventually, you will catch them all. All the learning experiences that create you, the aesthetically unique mind. They all lead to you. 

I usually do not get the opportunity to remain calm and steady through a breakup. It’s something emotionally messy, and so many feelings you had suppressed comes all flowing out of you because you uncorked the wine and you don’t mean to hurt the other but you kinda do because you feel so hurt and you still love that person but you know in your mind that there’s a reason for all this heartache and...well here I am, two months later, breaking up with you again. Not because I didn’t break up with you that one day 10 weeks ago...but because you still haven’t found closure. I feel that I’ve been breaking up with you every other week. You keep seeking me for reasons why we broke up, and over and over again, I have to live through another breakup. 

I get thrown back though when you asked me “have you ever been dumped”? My answer was “yes” because before I dated you, I was broken up to too. I remember I wanted answers too...I needed to, I wanted to confirm that whatever we had was real...that it wasn’t all made up in my mind...that I wasn’t the only one who was head over heels into the idea that he was the one. As he pushed me away more and more, I had to move forward and explore the horizons alone. Of course, I couldn’t have done it without the help of my friends listening to me ask their opinions on my love story the millionth time. But I moved forward. I took a step. First, to relearn to self-love; it was easy to love another and lose track of how to love thyself. I took another step. I took myself out on dates, learned about hobbies I didn’t know I could have. How many steps forward? I lost track. But there you were as if you were waiting for me to stumble upon you. Right by my door, with your Shoei helmet and your long black hair. You asked me for chopsticks desperate for a connection. And all it took was a sunset ride. I was hooked, your back, so strong, so kind, so warm. As I hugged tightly, I flashed back to when I was a little girl, how I dreamt of feeling this type of way...as you hover my hand to keep the wind from freezing them, as you warmed up your hand on the engine of the bike to give me warmth -- I felt your soul.