There’s only one person in this world that will tell me how it is, straight up. In the earlier years, she’d always tell me things I didn’t want to hear.. Mostly cause they were true and I didn’t want to be proven wrong.
Now I’m not one to openly express all of my thoughts, feelings, and sitches only because I don’t see the point in sharing them. I don’t know why or how it came about, maybe it’s my second generation Asian-American culture that’s shaped me. But it didn’t hit me until today (a couple of hours ago, in fact), on how it can affect any relationship. I keep to myself a whole lot, it’s how I function. I’m more of a listener than a sharer I guess. I mean, I’ve got two ears and only one mouth. I should listen twice as much as I speak, right? Ha. That’s how I operate in relationships, and it’s what I love doing. It’s the sharing MY feelings part that I don’t like. *le sigh. I wish I was better at that, I wish I was better with words.
It wasn’t until my best friend, no, sister texted and called me when I realized how much ish I have mustered up. I didn’t have the desire to share with her, I just wanted one of those awesome, heartfelt hugs that she gives. And a lot of times, that’s all I need. I don’t want/need to share and talk, I just need a hug, and it really makes everything better. (seriously, it does) I pray to God you’re reading this, Nara! As we were on the phone, my mom came in and scowled for being cooped up in my room. I forgot I had my friend on the line, and in came the waterworks. We hung up on a somber note, and I buried myself under my blanket.
Everything from little bumps to a massive, 8 year long journey just got packed up to the brim, and I couldn’t contain them any longer. Here I was, thinking that my heart is a black hole that people and things get sucked into and never get seen again. Nope. I felt my heart collapse, and when I finally got out of bed to try and distract myself, my knees gave out.
I went to the kitchen past midnight to eat my emotions away, as usual. My mom came and saw me weeping as I was rinsing my cup of ice. She asked me several questions, by now she has them in order from past events haha. We sat down and discussed my immaturity, naivety, and laziness. She’s the only person that will tell me how it is because she loves me, because she wants what’s best for me, because she’s my mother. I couldn’t tell her everything, because I answered my own questions in my head. I realized that I needed words of affirmation and constructive criticism from her to be set straight. Hearing all that I needed to hear, I also realized how blessed I am to be raised by a woman and mother like her. She went back to her room, and I piled up munchies and went back to mine.
Reflecting on our conversation, I laughed a little because of some things she said. I have reason to believe she’s setting me up to be prepared to be single for a long ass time. Not because she’s against me and relationships, but because she’s a power woman. I’m the third generation of women that are bitches when they need to be. And I’m pretty damn proud of it, thanks Mom.
