Tired

I’ve taken a LONG break for myself. Because: 

I’m tired of taking on other people’s BS. I’m tired of saying yes. I’m tired of not speaking up. And ironically, sometimes I’m tired of over explaining myself. I’m tired of familial expectations. I’m tired of industry gatekeeping. I’m tired of people thinking I’m a quiet Asian. 

I’m tired of … I’m tired. 

So I started to draw boundaries. I started staying NO. I started letting people down so I can finally bring myself up to the table. I started telling people exactly how I feel. I started yelling back at those who said something. I became that loud, confrontational, talk- back- to- your- face Asian.  And somehow I feel like I became… the villain. But Hey…if this is what it takes to shake off years of self disappointment on the times when I didn’t do anything, then so be it. Isn’t this growth though? Learning and forgiving my past, so I can morph into a stronger ME. 

Funny enough, speaking up or yelling back to things gets really really draining. I’m now in that stage where I’m needing to pick or leave that battle. And if you don’t get it honey, at least I’ve said my peace. This very assertive stance that I hold now, comes from a lifelong pain and fury of not being able to stand up for myself when I couldn’t. 

All of those people who quite literally pushed me around, took advantage of me, called me a racial slur, questioned my abilities and masculinity- made me the very damn strong person I am today. It also means that I had to cry about it. Whole heartedly, probably multiple times, with real raw emotions in the corner of my bed, under a sea of tissue paper. 

This is why (personal plug) my latest obsession for film representation is BEEF with Steve Yuen and Ali Wong is fangirling all the way. My generational pain, meshed with surviving in America. I cried because I felt this series finally represented the crazy chaotic, psychotic rage that I feel and it was seamlessly written, shot and expressed. None of that stereotypical quiet submissive Asian BS. 

A breath of fresh air. SEEN. 

And just because I go silent here, doesn’t mean that I’m not moving. I’m heading to my healing and calling- even if that means resting.  This time with somewhat of a better balance. My mind isn’t in the gutters anymore, though it wanders. I’m not here to count numbers and likes because it gets draining too. I’m not fcking here for the algorithms.

I’m finally doing me, boo.