I don't even know what I'm doing with my life. I don't know what I want to do. I'm afraid that I'm doing it all wrong. That everything I do is terrible and I'm going to wind up miserable and shitty and pissed off because I'm not good at anything. I got this internship to write for a food blog-paper thing, and I thought I was a good writer but apparently I'm bad at this or just don't know what to do with vague criticism and no direction (this is why I was not a journalism major).
And I hate being here & hate my job, but I have the potential to move to NY and do a higher level of my job and possibly either hate it more or hate it slightly less since I'd be living in a city that I love and making more money to dull the pain.
But I've also possibly got the opportunity to take a similar job for less then I make now (possibly a lot less) in Singapore. Which would be a great and fun experience and when would I ever get to do that again - provided I get this job and pull enough money out of my ass to move to and live in Singapore?
Singapore would be fun & I could travel and have all kinds of experiences and see the world and do things I never imagined and then maybe write about it - or at the very least start a blog about it. And it could open up the door to so many different opportunities & possibilities in the future.
While NY is my eventual "end game" plan, and it's sitting within reach now, do I want to subject myself to the same bullshit, different geography? Or do I take major risk and move halfway around the world with barely any money into something that I might even like or be able to afford to do?
At least the trying to live in Japan thing offered some sense of security, some sense of camaraderie with other people on similar positions; but I don't know anyone in Singapore.
I just don't want to sit around and look back on this whole scenario and wonder if I made a mistake like I already do when I think about moving to Philadelphia. And I don't want to think I missed a chance to do something amazing because I was held back by fear or money. I also don't want money & location to be my motivating factor behind my decision.
...so what do I do? What should I do?
Maybe I should just turn them both down and keep waiting for something better to come along. Maybe just because this is here doesn't mean it's right.
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Getting out of the 'Comfort Zone'
I've always had a problem with straying away from the familiar. For years, my wardrobe consisted of dark colors - blues, browns, greys, blacks. Graphic tees. Things that were comfortable and safe. Last year, when I started my new job, I started to venture out from the familiar as I re-vamped my work wardrobe. Button down shirts in every color of the rainbow with stripes and plaids, flower pins, snakeskin belts, herringbone flats, candy colored cardigans, pearl necklaces with tulle rosettes. Statement pieces.
In my regular wardrobe, I started to be more daring as well: Plaid orange and purple button downs. Skinny jeans with distressing and rips on the knees.4 inch wool grey pumps. Leggings with ankle boots and tunic shirts. A tan leather/bomber jacket acquired in Shibuya 109 with frilled shoulders, deep v-neck and a 3 inch zip on the bottom. A teal plaid flannel moto-jacket/shirt.
With regards to my life, I am still trying to venture out from the comfort zone I had always known. Growing up, I was the loner, the quiet, independent girl. I'd stay home and read and watch TV. I'd go to the movies and concerts alone. I ate chicken nuggets and fries religiously and was nervous about trying new foods because they might be gross or hot or spicy. I have and still am breaking boundaries in regards to my palate. I have acquired a love for Indian, Vietnamese and Thai food. In Japan, I was willing to try anything at least once like octopus, okonomiyaki and chicken curry. I have stopped being opposed to eating things just because I don't know what they are so I am not sure if I will like them or not. And now I found myself with a never-ending desire to eat corned beef sandwiches and tofu summer rolls.
My social life is still on eggshells. I am nervous about meeting new people and opening up about my life and my past. I am afraid to trust because I am afraid of getting hurt. I am basing everything in the future on everything that has happened in the past, and it is keeping me stuck in my comfort zone: being a shut-in every weekend when I should be out socializing and enjoying the weather and this city. At work, I don't talk to a lot of people other than those in my immediate office - I tell myself it is because I am trying to keep things professional, or because I don't care about getting to know little stupid facets of people's personal lives, or because I'm leaving next year so what's the point. But it's because I am afraid to let people in, to let them get to know me.
At happy hour last night, a co-worker that I'm not particularly fond of and I got to talking about stuff like TV and travel and I jokingly suggested we go to Atlantic City later that night. He was 100% serious about it. And so, at 8:30 that night, I found myself in the backseat of his car with him & his friend on the way to Atlantic City. Completely on a whim. Totally random. He joked with me that he was surprised I came because I "hate him". I joked back "Yeah, I know. I do." But we had a great time and of course, left alone with his friend, she asked me where I hung out on the weekends and I blushed and looked away when I told her I stay at home because I don't have a lot of friends, despite living here for a year. She told me that they go out a lot in my area and I should come out some time and took my number down. The inner dork inside me, the one longing for acceptance, smiled and save her number in my phone too. At the end of the night, I had had a really great time and made some new friends that I will hopefully hang out with again sometime soon.
See? That wasn't so hard. I can do this. Baby steps, baby steps.
In my regular wardrobe, I started to be more daring as well: Plaid orange and purple button downs. Skinny jeans with distressing and rips on the knees.4 inch wool grey pumps. Leggings with ankle boots and tunic shirts. A tan leather/bomber jacket acquired in Shibuya 109 with frilled shoulders, deep v-neck and a 3 inch zip on the bottom. A teal plaid flannel moto-jacket/shirt.
With regards to my life, I am still trying to venture out from the comfort zone I had always known. Growing up, I was the loner, the quiet, independent girl. I'd stay home and read and watch TV. I'd go to the movies and concerts alone. I ate chicken nuggets and fries religiously and was nervous about trying new foods because they might be gross or hot or spicy. I have and still am breaking boundaries in regards to my palate. I have acquired a love for Indian, Vietnamese and Thai food. In Japan, I was willing to try anything at least once like octopus, okonomiyaki and chicken curry. I have stopped being opposed to eating things just because I don't know what they are so I am not sure if I will like them or not. And now I found myself with a never-ending desire to eat corned beef sandwiches and tofu summer rolls.
My social life is still on eggshells. I am nervous about meeting new people and opening up about my life and my past. I am afraid to trust because I am afraid of getting hurt. I am basing everything in the future on everything that has happened in the past, and it is keeping me stuck in my comfort zone: being a shut-in every weekend when I should be out socializing and enjoying the weather and this city. At work, I don't talk to a lot of people other than those in my immediate office - I tell myself it is because I am trying to keep things professional, or because I don't care about getting to know little stupid facets of people's personal lives, or because I'm leaving next year so what's the point. But it's because I am afraid to let people in, to let them get to know me.
At happy hour last night, a co-worker that I'm not particularly fond of and I got to talking about stuff like TV and travel and I jokingly suggested we go to Atlantic City later that night. He was 100% serious about it. And so, at 8:30 that night, I found myself in the backseat of his car with him & his friend on the way to Atlantic City. Completely on a whim. Totally random. He joked with me that he was surprised I came because I "hate him". I joked back "Yeah, I know. I do." But we had a great time and of course, left alone with his friend, she asked me where I hung out on the weekends and I blushed and looked away when I told her I stay at home because I don't have a lot of friends, despite living here for a year. She told me that they go out a lot in my area and I should come out some time and took my number down. The inner dork inside me, the one longing for acceptance, smiled and save her number in my phone too. At the end of the night, I had had a really great time and made some new friends that I will hopefully hang out with again sometime soon.
See? That wasn't so hard. I can do this. Baby steps, baby steps.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
The Fear
If you've been following me for a while, you know I am ridiculously terrified of marriage , attempting to date in a city that really doesn't cater to women who enjoy the romantic companionship of straight men, and have lifelong trust and commitment issues thanks to the three & 1/2 years of my life I wasted dating and co-habiting with the World's Biggest Asshole. To be quite honest, as much as I hope to one day find someone who's presence doesn't repulse me and that I can have meaningful conversations and amazing sex with, I am staunchly terrified of having an actual relationship. But between all the fights and breakups and cheating and failed marriages that you see amongst your friends, colleagues and stars of the Silver Screen, is it any wonder that I'm having trouble finding faith in the success and stability of human relationships?
I read an article in a recent issue of Philadelphia Magazine which attributed having kids early on in your marriage as one of the major causes of divorce. Now, I don't want children to begin with, but could they honestly be serious about this?? Almost everyone that I knew and grew up with, their parents either got married because they got pregnant or waited a few years before they had kids. And there really wasn't any difference in the amount of couples who got divorced in my eyes. From the "getting married to make an honest woman out of her" to the "college sweethearts who got married and then had their first kid a few years after getting their Masters degrees" - both of these types of couplings led to divorce. So why would anyone use their children as a scapegoat for their own relationship problems? Clearly there are people out there in all kinds of situations who have married and had children at all stages of life and not divorced. Is this type of behavior somehow becoming more prevalent due to the decade and the state of economy that we're in? Perhaps.
I wrote my Senior thesis in college about the societal constraints that are put on women in order to get married, have kids and be successful - all in one shot; The whole "Superwoman" persona - saving your company's largest accounts by day and still having dinner on the table by 6 and tucking the kids into bed at night. But surely, more men are also playing the "mom" role these days too? Is this perhaps emasculating men who were raised to believe that the husband should be the breadwinner? Maybe it is that men can't swallow their pride in these situations that is creating a rift between husbands and wives. But what about stay-at home mothers who still find themselves on the outs with their supposedly doting 'heads of the household'? Ok, yes, things change dramatically when you incorporate kids into your marriage. It is no longer "You and Me" but "and Baby makes 3"; Maybe sometimes people are having children and aren't completely ready to accept this as a fact of life yet. But again, that in no way dictates that children are causing divorces - it just means that people are having kids before they are emotionally ready, because they think that is what society expects of them. That once you are married and settled into your new home, the next thing to come should be the pitter-patter of tiny feet. (and not of the four-legged variety)
Obviously, there is no dictating how relationships will turn out. There is no road map to life that can be purchased and help you learn the lay of the land. Unexpected things can happen around every turn; cheating, unemployment, death. No one truly gets that Fairy Tale ending. And I guess that's what scares me so much - that there is no way to tell how things will turn out. No one expects to be in a relationship for 10 years that never goes anywhere, or to live with someone who lies, cheats and steals (or even, to be that person who lies, cheats and steals). No one gets married with the anticipation of one day getting divorced. No one expects to have to figure out what they will do with their lives when their partner dies and because, since the State does not recognize their Union, they are not entitled to the benefits their partner has left behind.
And so, as much as I would love to be in a relationship, this fear still haunts me. We all have expectations and hopes for future romantic couplings. We want our mates to be these perfect matches, these puzzle pieces that fit perfectly into our lives. We hope for unending sophisticated conversation and superb sexual compatibility. You hate to think that you will ever get mad at one another, fight with the other, break that person's trust. You do not want to be betrayed by someone that you let into your life, your heart, your soul - that you give all your love to. And also, you do not want to commit the same atrocities to that other person who becomes your other half. What if I just can't do it? What if I just can't learn how to compromise my own stubborn sensibilities and I drive this person out of my life because I am too thick-headed to learn that a relationship is a two way street? What if I am too clingy or jealous or cumbersome? The thought of failure consumes me.
This is why my pseudo-relationship with Emmett has worked so well so far. We have never lived within close proximity of each other for anything to be considered remotely serious. Every encounter between us has always been light, fun and breezy, almost as if we are just test driving it before we commit to signing the lease. There are no strings or promises to each other - as much as I wish at the end of the day that there were - and maybe in a way, that is also scary as well. Here I am, pining over this man like a pair of expensive pants in a store window that I keep going in to try on, but don't know that I can ever bring myself to purchase. Even though they fit like a glove and make my ass look amazing and would go with everything in my wardrobe, they are always just out of reach. Maybe I will see them again one day on clearance and consider them a little bit longer.
But what happens when I finally buy them and bring them home? Will they have the same allure in my bedroom as they did in the dressing room? Was it all just lights and trickery in those store mirrors, as I try to replicate the same tantalizing appearance in my cheap $10.99 IKEA wall mirror at home? And after trying those pants on with an insurmountable number of tank tops, button downs and cardigans, will they just wind up in the back of my closet with the tags still on, never to be seen again? If this relationship ever really becomes real, will I be as ready and emotionally available as I make myself out to be in my head? Or will I struggle to find the receipt in my bag to take it back to the store?
Such foolish desires. Damn these wild young hearts.
I read an article in a recent issue of Philadelphia Magazine which attributed having kids early on in your marriage as one of the major causes of divorce. Now, I don't want children to begin with, but could they honestly be serious about this?? Almost everyone that I knew and grew up with, their parents either got married because they got pregnant or waited a few years before they had kids. And there really wasn't any difference in the amount of couples who got divorced in my eyes. From the "getting married to make an honest woman out of her" to the "college sweethearts who got married and then had their first kid a few years after getting their Masters degrees" - both of these types of couplings led to divorce. So why would anyone use their children as a scapegoat for their own relationship problems? Clearly there are people out there in all kinds of situations who have married and had children at all stages of life and not divorced. Is this type of behavior somehow becoming more prevalent due to the decade and the state of economy that we're in? Perhaps.
I wrote my Senior thesis in college about the societal constraints that are put on women in order to get married, have kids and be successful - all in one shot; The whole "Superwoman" persona - saving your company's largest accounts by day and still having dinner on the table by 6 and tucking the kids into bed at night. But surely, more men are also playing the "mom" role these days too? Is this perhaps emasculating men who were raised to believe that the husband should be the breadwinner? Maybe it is that men can't swallow their pride in these situations that is creating a rift between husbands and wives. But what about stay-at home mothers who still find themselves on the outs with their supposedly doting 'heads of the household'? Ok, yes, things change dramatically when you incorporate kids into your marriage. It is no longer "You and Me" but "and Baby makes 3"; Maybe sometimes people are having children and aren't completely ready to accept this as a fact of life yet. But again, that in no way dictates that children are causing divorces - it just means that people are having kids before they are emotionally ready, because they think that is what society expects of them. That once you are married and settled into your new home, the next thing to come should be the pitter-patter of tiny feet. (and not of the four-legged variety)
Obviously, there is no dictating how relationships will turn out. There is no road map to life that can be purchased and help you learn the lay of the land. Unexpected things can happen around every turn; cheating, unemployment, death. No one truly gets that Fairy Tale ending. And I guess that's what scares me so much - that there is no way to tell how things will turn out. No one expects to be in a relationship for 10 years that never goes anywhere, or to live with someone who lies, cheats and steals (or even, to be that person who lies, cheats and steals). No one gets married with the anticipation of one day getting divorced. No one expects to have to figure out what they will do with their lives when their partner dies and because, since the State does not recognize their Union, they are not entitled to the benefits their partner has left behind.
And so, as much as I would love to be in a relationship, this fear still haunts me. We all have expectations and hopes for future romantic couplings. We want our mates to be these perfect matches, these puzzle pieces that fit perfectly into our lives. We hope for unending sophisticated conversation and superb sexual compatibility. You hate to think that you will ever get mad at one another, fight with the other, break that person's trust. You do not want to be betrayed by someone that you let into your life, your heart, your soul - that you give all your love to. And also, you do not want to commit the same atrocities to that other person who becomes your other half. What if I just can't do it? What if I just can't learn how to compromise my own stubborn sensibilities and I drive this person out of my life because I am too thick-headed to learn that a relationship is a two way street? What if I am too clingy or jealous or cumbersome? The thought of failure consumes me.
This is why my pseudo-relationship with Emmett has worked so well so far. We have never lived within close proximity of each other for anything to be considered remotely serious. Every encounter between us has always been light, fun and breezy, almost as if we are just test driving it before we commit to signing the lease. There are no strings or promises to each other - as much as I wish at the end of the day that there were - and maybe in a way, that is also scary as well. Here I am, pining over this man like a pair of expensive pants in a store window that I keep going in to try on, but don't know that I can ever bring myself to purchase. Even though they fit like a glove and make my ass look amazing and would go with everything in my wardrobe, they are always just out of reach. Maybe I will see them again one day on clearance and consider them a little bit longer.
But what happens when I finally buy them and bring them home? Will they have the same allure in my bedroom as they did in the dressing room? Was it all just lights and trickery in those store mirrors, as I try to replicate the same tantalizing appearance in my cheap $10.99 IKEA wall mirror at home? And after trying those pants on with an insurmountable number of tank tops, button downs and cardigans, will they just wind up in the back of my closet with the tags still on, never to be seen again? If this relationship ever really becomes real, will I be as ready and emotionally available as I make myself out to be in my head? Or will I struggle to find the receipt in my bag to take it back to the store?
Such foolish desires. Damn these wild young hearts.
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