Last week I came out and said something that had been bubbling away in my mind for weeks.
It was the kind of thing I didn’t really think should be said, not just yet, but maybe in some ways, it did.
I’ve been doing this a lot more lately – coming right out with stuff. Uncomfortable stuff. And amazingly, the world isn’t ending.
It’s so easy to fall into the trap of thinking that nobody else can understand and nobody else is going through the same thing.
It’s so easy to retreat and hide. I spent most of 2014 avoiding people.
When my life was falling apart and there was no light at the end of the tunnel I couldn’t handle it – when everyone else’s lives were going much better I couldn’t swallow the jealousy. Pain is isolating. And it’s difficult to think that when I was wrapped up in my own struggles, friends were quietly going through their own heartbreaks. We’re all coming out the other side and bringing it all into the light.
(It’s really nice to not feel that way anymore. I know I can’t just hold it all inside again, because I will implode. It didn’t work then and it most certainly won’t work now.)
None of us can say our lives are what we thought they would be at this age. And as young women from Asian backgrounds, I think that’s in many ways extra hard to cope with and to admit.
But it feels good to let stuff out. It’s the only way.