It’s Okay

It’s okay not to have that perfect bikini body, to have the cute, expensive bikini to wear, to have the newest iPhones to take your bikini photos. Trust me, it’s okay.

It’s okay not to have that perfect boyfriend, the one that all of your hotter girl friends seem to have. It’s okay to let that person go, the ones who’s so good-looking, perfect on paper, but treat you like shit. It’s okay, you’ll find someone with better soul. You’ll find tons of them, trust me.

It’s okay not to have money to go out every weekend. It’s okay to save a lot because you want to travel the world, but your parents give you very few money barely enough for survival. It’s okay to feel like you’re the poorest kid at class, because maybe you are, and really, it’s no big deal.

You just have to be friends with those who don’t think all of these things matter. Hell, fall in love with one. If you keep thinking it’s not okay, you should find new friends and a lover to fall in love with. And when you find them, you will laugh at how perfectly okay all these things are.

Summer Finn

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Trust me when I say this: you’re going to meet a Summer Finn at least once in your life. The one with pretty eyes, fun attitude, great taste of music, and for a second there you thought you’re finally done with the searching. Everything is perfect until you get to know this person and realize you are not actually on the same page. But he’s just so dreamy, so you ignore those signs and fall in love anyway.

“No I’m not a lesbian. I just, don’t feel comfortable being anyone’s girlfriend. I don’t actually feel comfortable being anyone’s anything.”

“I like being on my own. I think relationships are messy and people’s feelings get hurt. Who needs it? We’re young, we live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world; might as well have fun while we can and, save the serious stuff for later.”

I found Summer Finn in my ex. I spent more than a year trying to fix things, until I realized there’s nothing to be fixed. We were just never on the same page, as simple as that. I wanted him to commit to only me, but he didn’t see the point of that. Months later, he’s settled down with a new girl he’s madly in love with. He’s no longer Summer Finn.

Right now, I guess I find Summer Finn in myself. I really am enjoying the time of my life by being a single 21 year-old who commits to no one other than myself. The idea of being anybody’s girlfriend, meeting his family, or having to hang out with his friends, is nauseating. What I want is him and I not holding ourselves back, not stopping when we kiss just to have the “what are we?” conversation, and basically just having the time of our lives being in love. I don’t need labels, god, I don’t want labels because there are certain expectations coming with any label. Heh, that was exactly what my ex said.

So yeah, I guess all of us are or have been Summer Finn at least for some period of time in our life, and that’s okay, really.

 

 

That Precise Moment

I have this weird thought that life is going to be a short one for me, and surprisingly thinking about it does not make me sad. Maybe it’s my inferiority complex speaking, but the more I think about this the more convinced I am that dying young would actually be kind of great. Because I suddenly remember all the things I have always wanted to do but always find excuses not to. The places i’ve always wanted to visit, the people I’ve wanted to fall in love with, the food I’m too afraid to try because it looks disgusting.

I don’t do all that because of one simple excuse: I am afraid of pain–so afraid that I had to cancel a lot of traveling plans because there’s always a possibility that I might get lost traveling all by myself, not being able to save enough money, not having a nice travel partner, and the list goes on. I’m so afraid of rejection coming from people I like the most. Just the thought of that makes me really, really sick. I’m also so afraid of, well, food poisoning.

I just don’t want to experience the painful part, you know. I’ve always been very, very careful when it comes to this. But when I think about it again, pain is necessary so that we can know what it feels like to recover from the worst.

You know that moment when you no longer have to bear the never ending pain of your new shoes because it’s already breaking in? It now fits your feet and not long after this you’re going to have a wonderful time together just by walking at your favorite street. Or the moment when you smile genuinely when you see your ex-boyfriend you used to be madly in love with now settles down with another woman? Yet before that moment you have to go through the 6 months painful recovery phase when you think romance is bullshit, love is overrated, and the idea of killing your ex-boyfriend makes perfect sense. Until you find love again and all that pain will be gone. Or the moment when you and your mother finally talk and support each other again after what seems like to be years of quiet because she thinks you’re living the wrong kind of life? Before that, you lost count on how many anti depressant pills you need to take just to talk to your mother.

I am a firm believer of sad endings but maybe this will change? Maybe death is not the painful part? Because death is supposed to be the time when you no longer have to worry about anything other than leaving in peace, therefore it’s not painful nor sad. It’s the living that is most painful and devastating. Yet in order to reach that precise moment of happiness when you die, you need to live, like a lot. The thing is, I have no idea when I’m going to die and the thought of living 100 hundred years makes me delay doing things because well, no need to rush. So maybe the reason i convince myself that i might die young is so that I live a lot, right now.

Oh well, we have a lot of weird things that help us sleep at night, after all.

On Breaking Up

On Sunday evening we would just sit in the park, enjoying our little chit chats, faces touched by the wind. We talked and talked, from the least important thing to the deepest secret that we never revealed to anyone else. When we had no more topic, we would just enjoy the silence and continue our thinking ritual individually.

We would do this three to four hundred times more, until we no longer do. And one day you would be there, and I am here. At two different parks, different companion, but still the same topic.

Relationship with My Father

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Why do people suffer so much? Even with the high amount of intelligence, money, and all that’s supposed to make us happy, we still suffer.

I suffer, too, of course, and it is painful. But thank God the pain is still managable. I just have to put a bandage here and there for me to go on everyday. It is a lot more painful for me to witness others sufferings than for me to experience my own, because in the process of witnessing that, I have to see how people project their own sufferings on others. Others, who are nothing but innocent, who are supposed to be their loved ones, who just don’t have anything to do with the fact that they’re suffering in the first place.

It’s a never ending cycle of pain in this sick world for all of us, without exception whether you’re a kind or a horrible person, because we let it happen. We let our own sufferings ruin us and others we love. And for me to witness this everyday, I am slowly breaking into pieces that have nowhere to hide.

I am now an open, contagious wound with no cure, trying to suffer the least amount of people I have no idea I am capable of.

2012 Journal: People Change

So I was looking through my WordPress drafts when I found this. I wrote this somewhere in early 2012 because a friend of mine, whose name I did not write so I can’t really remember, made my day with his one sentence, “you look different, in a good way.” I wish I would have let him read this instead letting it hid in a pile of drafts.. What a shame. My 20 years old self will not do such thing again because she knows better (I hope).

It’s 3 months to go to my birthday. I do realize I’m turning seventeen this year. That sounds scary to me.

Anyways, a thing that I’ve been observing lately (besides how I can reach 165 cm in one year), is the sad truth that people constantly change. Some best friends of mine became strangers to me. And I swear to God I didn’t want it to happen. But when I tell myself to try again at least one more time to see if we (my ex-best friends and I) were actually connected in some ways, I also hear my heart saying “no, it won’t work this time.” and right there I prove one more time my heart is right.

There are a lot of friends that I want to befriend with for the rest of my life. But I know the universe doesn’t seem to like my idea. There’s a reason why I give an invisible boundary between us. It hurts when people change and leave you for good, you know.

Today, one of my best friends said how different I am today compared to the old me and the way this person said that makes it sound like it’s a really good thing. I took that as a compliment but I didn’t say thank you because I couldn’t. I was speechless. And what makes me even happier is how this person really meant it. Here I am, writing this instead, saying thank you, because I don’t want you to think that you’re not my best friend. You are! I appreciate you so much. I’m sorry for all the bad things that happened between us. I guess we could change that, couldn’t we?

If someone told me I have only one wish. I would say, “You, never go away.” Now I’m gonna say something so cheesy but trust me this is what you call honesty. I love you, *insert lame smiley face here.* no of course I’m joking. I love you, with no smiley faces needed.

The Danger of Cool Girls

The article below was originally written by me, published on Magdalene.co, here.

coolgirl

As human, we are fascinated by instant gratifications. We want everything to exist in the fastest way possible with the least amount of effort. We buy lottery tickets because there is a possibility, no matter how little, that we’d get instantly rich. We love good news that we’ve never seen coming. Each day we appreciate less and less the good news that we’ve expected already.

Sadly, the way we long for instant gratification also affects our view on women. When the ambitious girl in your class graduates with a perfect GPA, you know it is nothing special. She will not get as much spotlight on her graduation day than another girl who is known to have partied every night, gotten drunk, rarely attended classes, but still graduates with the same perfect GPA.  Surprise, surprise!

When there are two spectrums of successful women, we try to balance it. While one side values the powerful, intellectual, and organized kind of women, the other side places their highest standard on the pretty, slim-figured, long lustrous hair who earn their living by selling their beauty. Our desire for instant gratification admires the balance of both sides, hence the cool girl.

The cool girl knows how to be impressive when it comes to instant self-care management. She will always look flawless in a series of “This is how I wake up” selfies. The cool girl knows how to talk about anything with anyone, from sex to football. They can appreciate fancy food and dig goodheartedly at disgusting dishes. And, of course, they are updated in current affairs. This ability shows a great deal of intellect, but not to the extent of being too nerdy.

The cool girl finds women’s friendship too enigmatic, therefore she prefers to hang out with boys who are emotionally capable to be overly enigmatic in the first place. The cool girl throws dirty jokes, smokes weed and drinks a lot with the boys, incapable of feeling guilty afterward. The cool girl is the probably the most easy-going person you’ll ever meet because she does not wear her emotions on her sleeves. In bed, the cool girl offers anal sex because she knows you’d say yes. She understands her man’s needs.

The cool girl also wants the world to know that she makes no effort to achieve such fulfilling state. What she has can’t be taught to anyone else because it’s a birth trait. Like Jennifer Lawrence who unabashedly worships pizza in her media interviews and  somehow manages to stay slim body. You know, I was born with this body, is what she is trying to say. Her flawless skin is not attained through expensive skin care regimes. No. It just happens to be silky soft and healthy. The cool girl does not even tell you that those rape jokes offend her. Yes, it sounds a lot like self-denial.

The bad news is that the cool girl phenomenon smacks of just another form of elitism. You’re not in the VIP club if you work your asses off to achieve something. Trying hard is not in the cool girl’s vocabulary, because it is something that only a bunch of serious, overly ambitious girls who clearly do not know how to have fun will do. The uncool girl would stay in to study for exams next week. The uncool girl with dreams to become a runway model would probably skip the pizza party because she needs to maintain her body weight.

By that definition, Anne Hathaway does not deserve the label cool girl, since she does not hide her respect for efforts. Anne has been called arrogant instead, because when she finds out bad news about her, she gets angry. The cool girl does not get angry, even when she has the right to be so, remember?

But women, let me tell you something: efforts are sexy.

The cool girl phenomenon has drowned men in the newest magical delusions of an ideal woman. Weary with the uptight, serious female archetypes, those who appreciate intellectuality or beauty a little too seriously, they long for the existence of a cool girl in their arms. The one girl they could take to anywhere without worrying she won’t fit in, because she is perfect in any situation. Men try to forget the fact that women are imperfect, and it will always be like that.

But the girl who refuses to have anal sex does that because for her, it hurts a lot. She does not understand football at all because she only subscribes to news about artificial intelligence or the latest fashion trend in the industry. However uncool that might sound, they’re simply being true to themselves.

So men, before you raise your expectation, let me tell you that there’s no such thing as the cool girl. She’s conjured out of the figment of your imagination. And even if she does exist, I surely hope you know better than Desi Collings. You know the duped guy in that movie about a cool girl.