I've been trying to de-clutter my life.
I have donated or sold about 1/4 of my stuff, and I am selling ~1/2 of my DVDs and books. The books are particularly difficult to part with. I have history with each and every one of them, and I tend to be very sentimental about these things. About half of my closet is gone, along with about 4 boxes of just ...crap. Toys and random knick-knack things that are cute or amusing. I've decided they can be cute elsewhere and amuse others.
It's completely liberating...cathartic, even. I no longer have to worry about what I will do with this or whether or not I will ever wear that again. I can't worry about it if it's not there, can I? Hee hee.
And sort of along the same lines, I sometimes stop to wonder why I haven't put any real effort into dating for, oh, the past three years or so. I realized that I have spent the first 20 years or so of my consciousness dedicated to other people and things, whether it's family or fiance or boyfriend or even job. I'm going through some kind of personal woman's liberation movement (without the burning bras, however, unless you mean metaphorically, because I love my bras and they cost me a lot of money). I especially tend to lose myself in a relationship. My goals start blending with their goals, and my interests and activities inevitably start blending with theirs, until I'm not sure where I end and he begins. This isn't always bad, but I feel that up until recently, I have been missing a firm sense of self. This is me. This is my life. We can overlap, but I will know exactly where. And when we do, I will like it.
So when my ex-bf tells me that when he watches The Notebook (sappy romantic movie, and one that I actually like, but to be fair I read the book first and loved it), he thinks of me, instead of feeling like I want to rush into his arms with warm fuzzies. I feel rather cold and really ambivalent. Apparently he has a small fantasy that seven years after we break up, we will reunite, like the couple in the movie did. But how can we do that when I'm loving being single and liberated and, well, ME? I'm living for me. For once! Dad is still in the picture, and so are my friends and loved ones, of course. But I'm 26 years old and I'm finally learning to say no.
I think we can blame this on several things:
1. My Asian female upbringing to be docile and acquiescing and eat the lesser parts of the crab (Joy Luck Club, anyone? This is the only time I will EVER reference the absolute poser that is Amy Tan);
2. My lack of self-worth, which, come to think of it probably also has to do with #1. Anyone who grew up in an Asian (or Jewish, from what I hear) household knows what it's like to feel absolute guilt, even for something that is probably not your fault. Mom trips on a crack in the sidewalk and skins her old, tired knees, and somehow it's your fault and it more than likely has to do with you not getting straight A's in school like your cousin did. Of course it's absurd now - it was suspicious then, but children don't know any better until later (like when they're 26 and realize that they're not really interested in this person sleeping beside them on the bed);
3. My fear of healthy disagreements. Somewhere along the line, I picked up that dissention spells the end of a relationship (friendship or otherwise), so I used up so much of myself trying to keep everyone happy.
This isn't by any means an overnight thing. I've been noticing slight changes in the past few years, and just now at 1:30 am it is coming together cohesively in my head (and in English!).
Being unemployed is kind of lame. You feel a little worthless cashing a check every week, but not doing anything to earn it and not contributing to society at all. It does, however, give you plenty of time to clean out your closet (both literal and proverbial), and reflect on things and decisions you've made. Let's hope, also, that it affords me the time and benevolence to go back to school...but that's another story.
Lastly, because I'm in that sort of mood (and when I find myself listening to The Devlins and Damien Rice.. you know it's THAT kind of mood), and when you're in THAT mood, Robert Frost always comes 'a knocking very politely but insistently...
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And bot that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Just putting this up because the picture for some reason makes me happy. I remember it being about 80 degrees that day, but we were on the beach, so it was breezy and nice. Josh is looking up his flight information on his Crackberry. Hmm, in fact I think this was my last day in Newport Beach. I had dinner with Aiboo and flew home to Seattle; Josh had to take a business trip to Sacramento.
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