At 25, I’m only now learning about attraction and starting to navigate the emotional landscape of personal, intimate relationships. I’m definitely better at it now than last year, when I was basically a monkey in a china shop. I think I’ve made a breakthrough with figuring an important part of it out – but the problem has become this:
I thought she was cute, so I showered her with time and attention (fueled by genuine curiosity) but now that she likes me back, my feet are freezing up and I’m slowly succumbing to that persistent voice saying “RUN”. The box of reasons why I shouldn’t go any further with her has been knocked over and I’m fumbling around trying to shovel the grains back in.
That being said, not every reason strewn across the floor is irrational. She can’t eat gluten + I fucking love food. I love exploring the new restaurants in Toronto. I can’t do that with someone whose diet is so restrictive; She doesn’t have a stable job; She isn’t politically involved nor does she have an ear to the news. Everything she talks about is about being gay – it can get tiring, and reminiscent of the girl from last summer (…)
Yet I’m still not sure if these are real reasons or if it’s the “RUN” voice making excuses again. I should be head over heals about this girl if I liked her enough, but I’m not. I’m putting in a lot of effort.
There are so many blindingly obvious signs that she wants something with me. She was regretful about telling me she found one of my friends attractive. I didn’t react strongly that night, as far as I remember, but she was remorseful and abashedly told me to brush off anything stupid she had said, if I remembered.
Of course I did.
But I brushed it off, like she said.
I did fuck up though. After many nights out of nothing happening with her, I got frustrated and ended up making out with another girl in front of her. She was furious. She called me a “fuck boy” and stormed off. I walked her home, but trailed behind, sheepishly and drunkenly. But by the end of the night, I managed to diffuse the situation (for the most part) by talking about our deepest insecurities.
The day after I made out with the other girl at the club, we talked about this girl she had been sleeping with casually. She assured me there was no romantic attraction, but all I cared about was the fact that I was right – about her type. I don’t know why I’m obsessed with knowing her type. She’d mentioned this girl before and I’d brushed aside the fact that this queer girl was “her type”. We were supposed to go together, with a few film friends. But then she mentioned she would bring the other girl. Well… this was news to me. And my friends confirmed it was probably (definitely) a move to spite me for making out with that girl.
But it backfired on her because I gave her and the girl very little attention. I tend to lean away from couples – I absolutely abhor third-wheeling (This in itself warrants its own separate blogpost) – regardless of whatever attraction I had felt towards her. Luckily, I found a reason to remove myself from being near them. A friend of mine ended up bringing a queer femme friend and I gravitated towards her instead. She was cute. I like meeting new queers. Whaddya want???
She knows femme is my type and I’m sure she saw me giving this new girl all my attention. I wasn’t doing it just to spite her back – I genuinely thought she was cute and if She was going to get with the other girl, well then, great, all the best to ya, sayonara.
But I suspect it must’ve irked her. A few days later, she messaged me telling me she’d called it quits completely with the other girl.
It’s dumb, the games we’ve been playing. But it’s toned down. We’re more honest with one another… just short of admitting whatever feelings we may or may not have for one another.
It’s my fault.
She sets it up for me; She’ll lead the conversation and leave so many doors ajar for me to flirt, but I’m always too chickenshit. Instead, I remain a respectful guest in her house, mind my manners, dust off the doorknob, and close the door for her, before going back to the living room.
It’d be easier if I knew what I want.
It’d be easier if I wasn’t scared of hurting her.
It’d be easier if I didn’t care.
I don’t know. It’s Pride month. I’m meeting new queers. Let’s see where this month takes me. I’m ready to do it up.
When I fall for someone, it’s usually too late. It takes me months to develop feelings for someone. I need to know them, their story, their passions, their individuality.
A friend suggested perhaps I’m demi-sexual. I was taken aback at first but when she paired it with me going on and on about “emotional beauty”, it didn’t seem as far-fetched.
The problem is, I hesitate when people advance on me before I have any inclination towards them. If anything, I neutralize it and make it as platonic as white bread. And by the time I fall for them, it’s too late and they’ve moved on to someone else.
Perhaps the solution here is to voice this about me. Let them know to… well, not give up on me. The one thing I did learn and appreciate about J is, despite being an often-times awful communicator, she brought up the fact that she needs/likes when people ask her questions that help her elaborate, as she confessed she was bad at that. Not that most people don’t like this, but it certainly helped when she highlighted that about herself, and that she was aware of this about herself.
I guess voicing your flaws is a fairly vulnerable thing. But whether it’s an indication of trust or self-confidence, people like when you do it.
Whelp. I’d better let it be known that I take a while to develop feelings.
Last week, a new video came up on my feed from Stevie Boebi, celesbian Youtuber:
This stuck out to me because I’d initially thought jealousy was a symbol of affection. I would almost wear my possessiveness with pride and freely admit to being the “jealous type”. To me, jealousy “just meant that I cared”.
A part of me guessed this would (eventually) be a problematic characteristic in a relationship, but it never clicked with me that how I felt could’ve been because of how it’s been overly romanticized. In the video, they say that while it’s a human feeling, it’s narcissistic and selfish. Jealousy isn’t an indication of affection towards another – it’s an symptom of insecurity.
The more you know know.
I don’t know of many people who identify as Asian urban planners. Throw “lesbian” in there, and I would’ve claimed that as my predominant identity, on the basis that I’d be a rarity in Toronto.
So I wasn’t surprised at all when a brief urban planning meet-up with an acquaintance from the gaysian community extended beyond the workshop and lasted a full five hours. We mutually prolonged our time together, taking turns fueling our hangout with coffee place and artisinal shop suggestions for our (unplanned) next stop.
A mutual friend had introduced us a month or so prior after talking about us separately to each other. “You’d like her!” – these really are the most promising starts to friendships.
She’s an interesting one. We had a lot to bond over – our mutual interest and knowledge in urban planning unwrapped a whole layer of conversation that I usually reserve for my… well, urban planning friends. She made it clear that her sexuality was low in her hierarchy of identity, and naturally, queerness came up not too often in our conversation – if it did, it was likely on my part. We got raw with our conversations fairly quick and she told me about her own insecurities as I reciprocated with my own. I’ve never had anybody open up so quickly and blankly before.
To my surprise, when I saw her again at a party last weekend, she was a different person from when I first met her. She was in her comfort zone and far louder, she wore a bigger personality, which I had difficulty adjusting to. I preferred her quieter, more honest. I suspected, given when we’d talked about, that she was compensating… but I’m still not quite sure which side of her is real.
Had it been the same time last year, I would’ve been completely fascinated by her. But at this point, at the speed I’m meeting (queer) people, I just don’t know if I have the energy or patience to figure her out.
But it’s wrong of me to assume I need to figure her out. Perhaps what I’d considered the greatest lesson of 2016 was wrong; perhaps closure (in this case, on what she is) is overrated and it’s just a bandaid solution for people who overthink. Closure is not the answer to overthinking, just as dropping a loonie will not cure homelessness. In fact, in seeking closure, you can often make things worse – it’s a falsehood alluding to being in power/having control, when in fact, you are so far from it. It can fix that dreaded, baneful feeling of powerlessness, but it will not take your foot off your mind’s gas pedal. Being able to shift gears, stop, and sometimes reverse, combined with knowing where to steer and in what direction – that’s a better way to not spiral out of control.
Mmm this post took a turn.
I took her to a lesbian ping pong party last Friday night.
I’d been conflicted about signals she’d been giving off… I’m fairly thrown off by people who don’t answer their phones often or quickly – it seems pretty clear: if I mattered to you as much as you did me, you’d be ecstatic when my name appears on the screen.
I really do want to invest myself emotionally. She’s cute, and I like everything that I’m learning about her – every new tidbit about her is interesting. She’s a sportsgay*, a redditor, she knows her TV shows, has good taste in music (soft, indie stuff), and…. I’m learning more as we talk more. Sure we text fairly slow, but I like the dry humour and occasional sarcasm she’ll pepper into her responses.
* Up to this point, I’d never even considered being with a girl who was into sports. It was usually a dealbreaker for me – though, a subconscious one. I’d always assumed I’d be with (and taking care of) a femme girl, but I suppose that’s just my mind
So you can imagine how off-putting it was when I got her tickets to the Hayley Kiyoko concert and she responded with “hahaha thanks bud :)”.
Is any combination of letters more platonic and friend-zoney than calling someone “bud”?
I almost threw up in my mouth.
Learning from 2016, I’ve talked to several people about this and the (logical and obvious) conclusion they all individually give me is: “play it out”; “take it easy”.
Yeah…. let’s not think about it.
I really like the way her eyes fold when she laughs. But I wouldn’t be devastated if we don’t work out.
I’m cautious with my heart.
I went on a godawful tinder date. She kept trying to complete my sentences and she would not stop talking about herself.
She didn’t look anything like her profile pictures either.
It was intensely irritating when she went on and on about qwoc representation in media. A side of me wonders if it’s because I’m Asian, that she can win points by appearing to be an ally and ranting about how Scarlett Johanssen should not have been cast in Ghost in the Shell. Well, it’s one thing to be an ally but quite another to run your mouth about how “this might be a controversial thing to say, but I think we need more black artists like Beyoncé”.
Just shut up. Please.
The day after, she was supposed to stay til 6pm but lord have mercy, I wouldn’t have survived. I resorted to making up an elaborate story about my brother getting into a fight with my mom and needing to go see him. Even after then, she thought I’d let her stay at my apartment unsupervised. …FFS.
Woof. What a nightmare.
I just texted a girl from Tinder from a month ago (whom I’d stopped texting with) to tell her about it. We really hit it off the first time we texted back and forth but stopped after she went to go visit her brother in Welland. I never followed up and neither did she… But we’re picking it right back up. It’s odd but I like how loosely we’re taking it.
I feel so much more free since ending things with Tinder Nightmare (sorry, too tired to be a considerate human). The weightlessness is giving me the energy to meet new queers and I feel I’ve been doing so (even on the Friday before meeting her. I made out with a cute chick at a queer bar). Specifically, it’s the absence of a ‘potential crush’ that’s fueling the enthusiasm.
On a self-reflective note…
I’ve been preoccupied lately with the issue of me perhaps talking about myself too much.
I’ve long prided myself on being a great listener…so I’m terrified of entertaining this idea that perhaps I’m not /or I no longer am. J, C, and a lot of other gays are great at asking questions and I’m starting to compare myself (naturally) and I’m wondering if I don’t.
Being a good listener makes people more likable – this is known. Women are less assertive about their accomplishments and interests, generally speaking, than men. So although I’m naturally quiet and a person of few words, my conscious effort over these past few years to be louder, more articulate, and more purposeful with what I have to say might be drowning out my “introverted” side.
I’m worse at this in social settings than at the office. I’m a great listener towards my coworkers, but less so with my friends. One of my New Years Resolutions is to ask better and more questions of my friends when engaging in conversation – I’ve noticed I’m usually the one talking, and quite often it’s about my ideas or myself. (This is the opposite for me in the office.)
Then again all these are just my opinions of myself and could be totally wrong.
I broke my eight-month streak of not crying on Saturday night.
And I laughed it off as it was happening, because all I could think was “Of course. Of course it would be over this.”
I’m scrolling through my old blogposts to see if I had perversely written out that I had predicted my bond with C wouldn’t last. We are the same but too different.
As much as I welcome dialogue (and I feel I’ve been making good with that for the past year and a bit), it’s a two-way street that involves listening and talking from both parties. There was no dialogue these past two nights; only attacking and defending.
Let me explain.
On Friday night, I got drunk with my co-workers and decided to shoot C a text since I knew she was getting off work and leaving around the same time. We streetcar’d home together and we caught up on in person – I was drunk and verbal diahhrea’ing. I didn’t mind – I felt I could trust her to keep all this in confidence. I told her and showed her a picture of this girl from Tinder who I was texting (details to follow), talked about my coworkers, and talked about random things. Oddly, as I showed her our texts, she grabbed the phone from out of my hand and started going through my text messages with other people… It was intrusive but I didn’t know how to address it – I was drunk.
Even after getting off the streetcar, we took the long way back through her condo building so we could both have more time to catch up. We hadn’t in a while especially since I had distanced myself from her recently.
Next thing I know (and I’m still pretty tipsy at this point), she’s yelling at me in an empty food court at 3am. “I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t”. And she storms off.
I’m perplexed. My forehead sore from trying to recollect and make sense of everything that happened between getting on the streetcar and her abandoning me. It seemed to have gone downhill when the topic of the Korean girl came up — why her name came up, once-a-fucking-gain, I have no idea. Several times I was genuinely unsure if I was so drunk that I didn’t realize she was drunk – it would’ve helped things make so much more sense. It seemed to happen out of nowhere, her buried discontentment with me. It seemed like a terrible dream.
I messaged her the next day, open to talking out whatever had happened. I was still exponentially confused. She was open to talking but had no time until later that evening, at the bar where our friends would be meeting before going out to the club.
So we talked… and I made sure I wasn’t drunk this time.
And it went the exact opposite of how I had hoped. It blew up.
In hindsight, I wish I’d finished typing this up the day I started it (Sunday), but I dropped off after a few paragraphs and now it’s Wednesday…. and I’ve already talked far too much, to the point where it’s become exhausting to have to reiterate, revisit, and retell the stories – and relive what I was feeling when I was first telling them. But for the sake of this journal, I will try.
She was essentially berating me for how I had not invited the Korean girl and another person to New Years. My decision, as I stand by it, was built off “I cannot host another massive party as I have roommates/a live-in landlord. Therefore I must keep it small. Therefore I can only invite my closest friends”. When it was spread via social media that I had a party, it was interpreted by them as me siding with a friend in a feud she had with that person. This interpretation was wrong, but I can absolutely see how she would view it that way because if I were in her shoes, I would see it that way too. So I took the initiative to apologize for it seeming that way.
HER interpretation was that I had buried a bitter hatred for the Korean girl not reciprocating my feelings, thus it played a part in my decision not to invite them. Coupled with my rolling my eyes when she brought her name up, I can see how it may seem like contempt… which I could not explain in the moment – it was pure instinct. When she called me out on it and extrapolated that as an indication of toxic feelings, I gave a poor explanation, but in hindsight (and a clearer, less emotionally affected mind), I was able to articulate (to myself, and too late), that it was at the fact that we are, once again, talking about her. And I never bring her up. She’s the one who ever brings it up.
I just don’t have the energy to type it up.
TL;DR I trusted her and I felt like she betrayed my trust (by going through my text messages, by telling her partner everything) and while I thought she was listening and giving me a shoulder to lean on, she was silently judging me. And she let it show on Saturday in its truest form and I cried because I had opened up and been vulnerable (I argued that night that these two can be separated, but she argued that they go hand in hand — after discussing it with someone else who believed as she did, I think it’s something that I want to explore in depth – but another day. Because, as the point of this blog, I want to rationalize my gut feelings. Perhaps I am wrong, but until I articulate my gut feeling, I am going to table this. But I DI-FUCKING-GRESS)……… and I was hurt. And it hurt deep because the fact is she sees the good in everyone and has good intentions. As I’ve preached on this blog over and over and over again, the only thing that matters about a person when/if judging them, is their intentions – not their actions.
At one point in the midst of our heated argument on Saturday, she asked, rhetorically, what I think the solution to gay drama is. Unprepared, but without hesitation, I said “communication”. I still believe that. I genuinely feel if she had communicated how she felt all this time, we could’ve avoided all this. I did my best.
The worst part is, I trusted her enough to let her know about this blog. But I hope she’s not reading this because many of these are unfinished thoughts that I’ve rushed to write down – I’m already a few days behind on the posting and if I don’t write something down now, I never will. Not to mention things have unfolded that I think would be healthy to write about. Like having a minor (?) panic attack last night.
But I’m all “wrote out”. It will have to wait til next time.
I’d also like to write about the girl I’ve been texting. We’re moving a little too fast and it’s freaking me out.
And parts of her remind me of Twitter girl. Which scares me because I ended up falling for the idea of her, and not her.
2017…. please be kind. I don’t know how much more I can take.
I had a massive crush on a girl in third year. It was the hardest (and purest) crush to get over because I didn’t fall for her immediately – I slowly (and deeply) fell for her personality. (I’d written about her before)
She’s a good person with great intentions, and she’s highly empathetic, perceptive, and conscious of other people’s emotions. Most strikingly, she’s the best conversationalist – she’s so engaging and outspoken. And although this package would seem to be one wrapped in self-confidence, she’s so humble, modest, and self-conscious. As strange as this may sound, she opened my eyes to self-deprecating jokes.
I tried (we all did) keeping in touch with her but she drifted after graduation, spending life with her boyfriend (whom she’d introduced to us once). But we met up again for drinks tonight, her, a friend, and I, after over a year of no communication (nothing deliberate – we just drifted). At one point, she congratulated me on coming out. She also took the initiative to ask me questions about my life, deliberately switching gears from the conversation – which I found so interesting (and nice).
She hasn’t changed much. Only me – I’m just looking at her with new eyes. And she’s as beautiful (if not more) a person as before.
You know how sometimes you meet a person and you’re just so happy they exist? And that they make the world a better place by just existing?
I’m glad I fell for her. Bisexual or not, she was a crush that, in hindsight, I’m proud of.
p.s. she still does that thing with her hair – she twirls it round and round her fingers as you’re talking. The only thing that’s changed is her curls aren’t as prominent and her hair’s straighter. Must be the boyfriend.
It’s like sometimes the universe knows.
I’ve been feeling jaded and overwhelmed because of everything unfolding recently and these feelings are so strong they’ve seeped even into my dreams (as I’d mentioned previously). I need a
n out break from the gaysian group.
Then out of the blue, I noticed it was twitter girl’s birthday on Facebook and without thinking, I decided to wish her a happy birthday. We got to talking and she asked me how things were on my end. Giving the timing and prevalence of what’s been happening, I let her in on the gay drama that was unraveling. We hadn’t spoken in months, but she hadn’t changed – listening with patience and empathy. Next thing you know, she’d invited me to a birthday gathering. I had made prior plans so I messaged her to give her a heads up.
Next thing you know, we’re making tentative plans for a monthly queer dance party. I’m assuming this is with her gay friends.
I have no residual feelings for her (I stress they were invalid in the first place and for the idea of her rather than her, herself), but I certainly respect her for her social activism and strong moral compass – just because we had no chemistry doesn’t change that fact. It’d be nice to reconnect and catch up.
It’d be nice to get out of this circle for a while.
I’m still always shocked by how oblivious I’ve been my entire life, taking my family for granted. Upon listening to my other (Asian) friends lament the tension between them and their parents resulting from news of their queerness, I’ve begun to realize how unbelievably fortunate I am.
A friend – J – and I went for coffee today to air out some thoughts and completely unplanned, she ended up meeting my mom, who’d dropped by to drop off some food. Despite us just being friends and it not being a “meet the parents” kinda deal, she was nervous – I suspect it stems back to her bad experience with (Asian) parents and queerness.
My mom was also slightly awkward (but I was unsure if it was her being normal — now that I’m thinking back to how she meets my other friends, I suspect it was her normal. I guess she’s just a little socially awkward). I checked in with her shortly after, letting her know, “that was Jenny. She’s gay. We’re just friends.” Her response:
I almost doubled over from the mix of guilt and emotions. On the one hand, I’m asking “what did I do to deserve this.” On the other, I feel like this is how parents should be.
It’s just that the latter is obviously not always the case.