At first, I was good. Walking excessively in Busan wearing my tourist shoes meant that I had little care about what I was eating nor the amount. But as the weeks came and went, that little person inside of me that whispered eat, eat, eat managed to take over. So I gave in. I ate bread – a huge trigger food for me. I laid in bed, defeated, my stomach, bloated, and I didn’t know what to do. I hated the feeling of being full. If my stomach bulged out just a little from food I would go into full panic mode. When I was younger, this resulted in a kind of panic exercise induced black out. However, on this day, I had no where to go to exercise, so I fell back on something that I swore to my college self I would not do anymore.
When I was younger, I was obsessed with everything that wasn’t my immediate reality. Like most children, I dreamt of finding fairy circles deep in the woods, waking up one morning to find a letter on my desk inviting me to learn magic at some school far far away, or coming across a dragon egg while playing hide-and-seek on my friend’s ranch. I even redecorated and painted my room to look like the Gryffindor common room at one point so I could pretend just a little longer that I was living in an entirely different world far from the one of those around me
I wished, beyond anything, that this body I was confined to could be as easy to leave as anything else in my life. I felt that I was at a loss to win, and this inability to render my control left me as lonely as ever. I felt lonely especially because I couldn’t talk to anybody about it. If I tried I was met with rolling eyes and misunderstandings – you are beautiful, you are skinny, you are perfect the way you are – but every time I saw myself the reflection that looked back at me watched me with disdain, and worse still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was never, and would never be enough for myself.
The myth of childhood told me that when I got older, I would innately gain some kind of understanding about the world that would allow me to move forward both productively and confidently.
Sometimes I think in the midst of writing resolutions and starving ourselves for the newest fad diets at the start of the year, we forget about those little moments, what those bits and pieces look like when tethered together just tight enough. We spend our time moaning about how horrible the year was, how this year will most definitely, definitely (just you watch!) be better, then make silly promises to ourselves and others just to hold a semblance of accountability.
I had this list in my head, it went something like: acceptance of others, meditation – things of that nature. It was a very easy-going new year’s resolution list straight out of a women’s magazine – nothing too crazy, nothing too “Eat, Pray, Love.” But as I’m sitting here at my desk staring at this candle that has the phrase “Love Heals Every Body” printed across the front, in all capital, all assaulting, all very, in-your-face letters, I’ve narrowed my list down to one thing. One aspiration. One dear-God please grow up now or I’m throwing the towel in: Stop looking for validation from men.
Warning: This is a satirical piece. The author does not condone any of this behavior or practices. This was merely written as kind of a
I felt strange. Not really a tourist or visitor, but feeling like one in my own city. Connected, but not necessarily, and really only just in the occasional situation, and occasional environment. I felt a bit fragmented like I had been unraveled and was desperately trying to piece myself back together, yet I was always missing a few bits, and I found that they were much more important than I originally thought they were. I spent much of my time in America wandering, both mentally and physically. Much of my days passed at the backs of coffee shops alone or wandering through bookstores trailing my fingers along shelves, yet buying nothing.
A couple of weeks ago, I decided that I was going to be an adult. A real adult this time, like the kinds you see
Okay, I think I have about five more days left on my Final Cut Pro Trial…and last but not least, here’s the rest of the (useable) footage I have from this past summer when I was volunteering in Busan. It was actually really fun editing this one. I had forgotten about some of the things I had done with and time spent with the friends I made while in PNU, as well as a not so happy reminder that I miss my best friend back home a lot more than I thought.
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