Some Thoughts 005

1. I want to start to forgive myself. Whenever I read an old blog post, or see a social media post for x years ago, I cringe and hate my old (younger) self. I become so ashamed about how ignorant I was. I was too eager, too blind, too sure, too everything. I find it hard to even read over some thoughts I used to have. But when I'm hating on younger Laura, I'm also hating on current Laura. Because although I'm not the same person I was, that person is still a part of me. And I need to forgive them for being who they were with the information they had at the time. I need to forgive myself. Because the alternative, what I'm currently doing, is not helping me grow. 

2. Suicide is a thing I want to read more about. Not how to commit it (although I do have some days where I wish for it), but the wider social patterns regarding it. I want to read stats, and person stories, and "suicide prevention" guides, and words from academics, faith leaders, politicians, and people who've lost a loved one/s. I want to paint a bigger picture that's beyond my own dark thoughts.

3. Lately I've been enjoying readings people's #AppreciationPosts on social media. I used to read them and roll my eyes at the wall of text accompanying a photo, thinking that people are so desperate to project a life worth envying that they show off the markers of a happy life while actually feeling deeply discontent and insecure about their lives. Maybe that's the case, maybe it's not. But feeling that way about them ruins my life and my day. So instead, I read with the lens that people are so overwhelmed with genuine gratitude that even after expressing their appreciate with the people around them (incl. the ones they may be grateful for), they still feel a burning desire to share it online. Maybe they are, maybe they aren't. But it makes for a more enjoyable scrolling time for me. 

Do I need a ~why~?

That's it. That's the post.

A Dream From 2017

So I had a dream on Friday 10 November, 2017 and when I woke up, I wrote down everything I remembered in a notebook. I came across it yesterday as I was cleaning my junk and wow it was a trip re-reading it. I didn't remember from it so I was at the edge of my seat.

It took me on such a ride and I want to share it with you here. There's a post script at the bottom, that I wrote in my notebook after writing down the dream.

Content warning: mention of rape 
(I did not dream of the assault).

~

There are three characters I can remember. A girl (G), a boy (B), and the boy's baby brother (Bby). G and B start out as early-teens and Bby between 4 and 6 years old.

G and B are good friends.

G is always at B's house and so always helps B look after Bby.

Bby gets really attached to G, G is really nurturing. Bby starts to look at G as a pseduo-mother (I never see B's parents).

B's riiiiiiich and has a really flash house.

One day, G has to move out of town. It comes as a surprise to B and he is devastated and angry. He begs her not to go. G is crying and says she has to. Her mum's work is urgently pulling them both away. B is very sad but understands - he knows something Bby doesn't. They hug goodbye.

Years pass and G moves back.

G goes to B's house and B's so happy to have her back. G's heart becomes full when she sees B.

Bby is furious and hates G for leacing. Yells at her - WHY DID YOU LEAVE. He feels betrayed like he was abandoned by a parent (does B and Bby not have parents? Where's the $$ from?).

G tries to apologise and is crying. B steps in and tells Bby that it's not G's fault she left. It's not G's fault.

B asks G, are you sure you're okay with moving back into town? Yeah, I guess, G thinks. We have no other option.

B gives G a ride home (w/ Bby). First time we'll see G's house.

Bby and G are talking in the car (lambourghini-esque - hovers). Bby asks G if G can show her all the cool entertainment stuff ("boxes") when they get to her house. Bby is excited to finally see it.

G answerr, who it's something I can show you? It's all here *taps head, indicating imagination*.

Bby doesn't get it, B smiles.

When they arrive to the house Bby (and I) are shocked. I'ts a cruddy rundown apartment complex. Is G... poor?

G's mum is a cleaner at the local high school (where G goes). They moved back cos cleaners were becoming redundant everywhere they tried to live. They couldn't afford a place to live. he (it feels like an urban-hometown?), the school gave her her job back out of loyalty, she's from there and run-down accom is free. So they came back.

They moved away because G was rape. But several people -- high school boys, teachers, and others.

When G told her mum, her mum was like fuck this town, let's go. But life outside the town was HARD. They only they could be out there, was to be homeless.

So G's mum aplogised to G and said I think we have to go back. G understands. G's silver lining is at least B's there.

She told B about the rape before she moved away. He was surprised they came back. Being super rich, he didn't understand how life could be so hard for the super poor (G never told him that part of her life). He knew he was richer than her, but he didn't realise how their poverty restricted where they could live, choosing between a cruddy house in the town of rapists or homelessness.

He is in love with G. G is in love with him. He doesn't know how to tell her, ask her out, not wanting to pressure her - not from another guy. G want to love him too, but doesn't know how. She scared all she can give is come ugly morphed empty something.

She thinks B deserves the best and is scared she can't give him that.

Is she only told him that -- he would reply, the love you already give me and Bby is so much and it's so beautiful. I don't want to ask more from you. I just want permission to love you the same way I always have, and some more. I don't want to force you to accept my affection if it makes you feel unsafe in any way.

~

This dream felt very short. Came in unfinished flashes/scenes. Sometimes I'm G - crying, begging Bby for forgiveness. Sometimes I'm a third person observer.

I woke up crying. I cried when writing this.

As I was writing, details became clearer, made more sense.

Am I truly remembering? Or am I making it up when awake? Adding and changing it as i'm remembering?

But then, why shouldn't I? The dream is in my head, I can change the story however I want...

Just Some Thoughts 004

1. Lately I've been having dreams where I have a romantic partner. They're mostly boyfriends with one girlfriend (one partner per dream, very monogamous). When I wake up, I feel that I've broken up with them and I have to adjust to life without them. Except when I'm awake, the memory of them fades quickly and I begin to miss a blurry impression of a person. I mean, they were never a person to begin with... but still. I'm currently in that glum mode where I wished I had a romantic partner. To lightly brush my back as they walk past me in the kitchen, or greet me with a forehead kiss before launching into talking about the hellish day they've just had. Or someone to caress my hair while I cry about the overwhelming sense of inadequacy that visits me weekly.

2. As I get older, I become less and less concerned with what my tAsTe in music, tv, film and other at pop culture says about me. I used to be so proud or embarrassed about what aligning my interests with certain things communicates to others about who I am. I simply care less (not not at all... yet). The more time spent with obsessing about how my interests shape my identity, the less time spent enjoying/reflecting/analysing/replaying/rereading them.

3. I have a hard time saying no. So I lie and say yes, then disappoint people.

Just Some Thoughts 003

1. I'm am endlessly grateful to my dad for prioritising touch typing as a skill I had to learn as a child. He would make me take typing tests and exercises and would monitor my words per minute. I found it so tedious and weird that he was so obsessed with this skill that was only given cursory consideration by my teachers. Thank. you. father.

2. I'm trying to be better with money and boy oh boy is it a journey. I'm currently on my 6th attempt of a budget, tweaking expense lines, being a bit more honest about where my money is going, and extending the time frame to a year, to see a wider context of my future spending. But man, the first crucial and painful step, is simply to look at my previous spending. Just looking at it, really looking at it... hurts. But to solve the problem we must see the problem as clearly as possible. And looking at all the mindless food and uber spending. Well. It's not pretty. But it's a start.

3. I was looking after my niece the other day and there was a distinct moment where I was looking at her and I felt an overwhelming sense of an indescribable s o m e t h i n g. And I thought, oh dear, is this how this begins? I love taking care of my sisters' children and have zero interest in having my own children. I am though, interested in becoming a step mother.

The Meaning of Adulthood

I turned 25 six days ago and I really felt the shift in becoming this milestone age.

I felt... older. 

Since turning 18, I've been anxious about adulthood and how to do it and do it well. Adulthood has always felt like a great achievement that seemed so out of my reach. But six days ago something changed.

I'm starting to think that adulthood isn't something to achieve, or earn, or a phase. It's more of a... responsibility.

Adulthood does not require me to be perfect or spectacular or together. It does require me to consider how my life affects the world around me. Adulthood means that I have less room to be inconsiderate. 

I want to accept this responsibility while also allowing myself the grace to make mistakes and grow. I must not give into despair. I was watching Avatar today and Uncle Iroh said something that struck me emotionally:

You must never give into despair. Allow yourself to slip down that road and you surrender to your lowest instincts. In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength.

Adulthood means, for me, that it's my job to give myself hope. I need to inspire and motivate myself. Failing this, I need the self-discipline to do what's necessary, no matter how inspired I feel. And failing this, if I find myself falling, or paralysed, or completely hopeless and I've fallen to the darkness I said I would avoid, I would quietly forgive myself and lean on those I trust, so I do not stand in darkness alone.

And although I said that adulthood is not an achievement for me, making it to 25, still being alive despite many many many times I've wished for otherwise, feels like an accomplishment.

No matter what happens, I made it this far and I am proud of myself.

Just Some Thoughts 002

1. Adulthood isn't an achievement or milestone, it's a responsibility. To think beyond myself. To pay attention to the world around me, both locally and globally, and continue looking no matter what I see. It's accepting that my being here will have an effect for better or for worse so I should try my best to make it for better. To realise that I'm not just an individual in the world, but a part of what makes the world and it would be better if I were consciously connecting to others who are also making the world, but better.

Also I should learn how to drive.

2. For a long time I've felt a weird discomfort when reading stories about people who defied stereotypes by achieving things that are statistically unlikey for someone of their demographic. I didn't know exactly why but it just felt... off. It wasn't until I came across this quote one time on twitter that felt like the biggest eureka moment (except I have a feeling a eureka moment is supposed to be an idea I came up with lol). I pressed like, probably retweeted, but when I tried to find it again, I couldn't. I scrolled down my timeline, searching using keywords I tried to remember, but couldn't. I've been trying for over a year. But I found it again, reading an article on respectable politics:

Uplifting stories that leave out structural barriers, let alone the need for political struggle to correct those barriers, can gloss over the enormous challenges the poor face in an era marked by downward mobility. (Fredrick C. Harris, "The Rise of Respectability Politics", Dissent Magazine)

I think we (I don't who "we" are...) have to move beyond celebrating exceptional cases, and moving towards addressing, organising, and changing the systems that creating the norms that the privileged and brilliant few break through.

While also still celebrating important achievements and milestones of individual cases?

3. There's a minimalist on YouTube who I found, Youheum, and I love putting her videos on in the background as my white noise. That's pretty antithetical who her lifestyle as someone who is mindful and actively chooses silence over background noise but hey, I bet she wouldn't judge me for my choices (she said so in a video). I like the idea of minimalism, at least how she talks about it. You can find her at: Heal Your Living.

Just Some Thoughts 001

I think I'm a perfectionist. But I haven't done any thorough research so this isn't a claim I make with any certainty or authority.

I keep waiting for an ephipany, lightning to strike, or a burning bush.

But I can't wait any longer. I mustn't. I have to rub my own damp and crappy sticks together to make a small ember, then fan the shit out of whatever sparks into something that can bring light and warmth.

Here are some of my first strikes:

1. When a sad or scary situation happen, I'm... fine. I become a bit robotic and eerily calm and am able to just focus on problem solving. If it's not a situation that can be solved, I can sit there until the danger passes.

2. When I'm met with kindness and goodness and utter happiness, I cry. I want to cry when someone is gracious, forgiving, and understanding. I cry when someone shows me they love me more than I expected. I cry when good things. I never think good things should happen to me.

3. I spent so so SO much time and actual effort as a teenager trying to be DiFfErEnT. I loved to hear that I wasn't like other “girls”, “Samoans”, “people your age”, “people from South Auckland”, or any other identifier which I thought were lesser. It's only years later that I see that I had internalised so much sexism, racism, classism, and fatphobia (thanks internet cos no one in my real life taught me any of that lol). I loved to be complemented by being told that I surprise people, that I don't fit into the stereotypes someone had assumed of me. There's a term I've come across and would like to delve more into - respectability politics. Respectability politics is the expectation/social pressure put on individuals from marginalised groups* *(an idea I want to explore in another piece) to behave not only differently but better than the specific ways their group looks/behaves normally. Well that was an overly simply and perhaps inaccurate summation, and there are a lot of smarter analysis that political/social science/critical thinking writers have done that explore the wider social motivations behind this idea.

For me, I wanted white boys to fall in love with me.

4. I have a favourite ex that I like to talk about to anyone who wants to hear about my short-lived and not-at-all-whirlwind romance. Ours was a steady and sure love that I felt so safe and happy in. And when I talk about him to others, I begin to romanticise and miss him. Then I make a quick pro con list and force myself to remember that he was also flaky, kept big life secrets from me that affected our relationship, and he never really saw a future with me. That pops my What If bubble real quick and I'm able to land at a peaceful middle where I'm utterly grateful to have met and been in love with him, and glad that it ended when it did.