pay attention

LINK: pay attention

Currently listening to: Runaway – Kanye West feat. Pusha T

Let’s have a toast for the douche bags
Let’s have a toast for the assholes
Let’s have a toast for the scumbags
Every one of them that I know
Let’s have a toast for the jerk offs
That’ll never take work off
Baby, I got a plan
Run away fast as you can

One of the residents pinged me, gushing about her new man. They’re three months in and it’s her second serious relationship. She is completely over the moon.

As I read her messages, I found myself smiling. She was so open, so unguarded about how she felt.

Immediately afterward, she began asking me for dating advice. As if I’m some sort of guru.

I’m not. If anything, I’m probably the last person anyone should be asking. I am not qualified to dispense any sort of advice in this arena. I have my walls so high that very few people get through them. I can’t fault her though for thinking otherwise. At work, my colleagues only see version 1 of me.

excerpt from: all

Version 1: what I present to my colleagues, acquaintances, patients, and strangers. I appear capable, reliable, and composed. I meet the expectations and appear calm and collected.

Version 2: what my friends and family know. I’m a bit more candid and at times can be quite funny. They see a sliver of my quirks, insecurity, and my complex thoughts.

Version 3: is the person I am with myself and here on this blog. This is where I voice my angst, exhaustion, desires, self-doubt, and vulnerability. It’s where I try to make sense of who I am becoming.

Many of my exes had issues with this. Some of them “tested” me to gauge whether my feelings for them were real. Unfortunately, they were sorely disappointed with the outcome. A part of me was saddened that they felt they had to go to such extremes. At the same time, I have never been fond of mind games and I found it annoying AF. The irony isn’t lost on me—that my metaphoric walls are what drove them to do this…

I’m not masculine by any means, but I do give off the unbothered, IDGAF (I don’t give a fuck) energy that makes me seem cold or indifferent. I’ve got that RBF (resting bitch face) locked down. It’s just that over the years, I’ve learned to cut people out of my life like a malignant cancer. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s because I’ve been burned enough times that this is my protective mechanism. What I feel and what I show outwardly don’t always seem to align.

My mom’s horrible dating advice doesn’t help either. It lives rent-free in the back of my head—the man should love you more, otherwise the relationship will be doomed. Another person I should not be taking dating advice from.

I also don’t naturally give off warm, fuzzy vibes either, unless I’ve had a couple of drinks. I blame this on my upbringing and the Korean culture. We’re typically not known for being openly demonstrative, expressive, or gregarious. Growing up, m parents would tell me to stop talking, to not be too social, don’t laugh so much or so loud, be quiet, or to avoid eye contact with elders or those with higher status.

When I read about her constant need for attention from her boyfriend, I thought about how free she must feel. The fact that she could be so open and be unapologetic about it. It’s refreshing to me. To want someone and just… I don’t know… to just say it without overthinking.

I caught myself wishing I could be more like that. Less controlled. Less scared.

I don’t consider myself needy either. If a boyfriend or situationship stops reaching out to me, I won’t chase him. I don’t have the bandwidth nor the time to run after him (especially working the hours that I work). I’ll either think that he’s mad at me and say nothing because if I do, words may be said that I won’t be able to take back. Other times, I’ll assume that we’re finished and tell myself that it wasn’t meant to be and feel regretful.

It’s not that I don’t care. It’s that I care too much to let it show…