Writing Is The Way Our Voice Paints

I have waited a long time for this, but now it feels right. Allow me to introduce myself. HELLO WORLD! I am just a 35 year old, Asian American woman who was adopted and raised in a town with 1200 people, where I was a minority. Oh, and it was in Utah, and we all know what that state is known for...FRY SAUCE! So, there I was, an Asian little girl with a white family; not what you would call a member of the "fry sauce community."

I had to explain to all of my grade school peers what being adopted meant and why my eyes looked different. I was saying things I didn't even know the meanings for; it was just what my parents were telling me to say. Unfortunately, I was a walking target for all of my peers to make fun of because of my eyes. I remember coming to my mom crying and asking her why I can't just have regular sized eyes like everyone else.

Fortunately, I was blessed with the best, most supportive parents and family I could ever ask for. I used writing as an outlet for my inner feelings since I could not draw myself out of a bag to save my life. I started writing a lot of short stories when I was in grade school and embraced English. I loved when the teacher would tell us to write a short story starting with a certain sentence. I always thrived with those.

What I have witnessed as to why people tend to get discouraged is that they tell themselves all the negative lies they are taught throughout their lives. They believe there's no use starting, because they could never do what other people just like them do on a regular basis.

Sadly, that is what happened to me for a while. I got involved in a long-term relationship for almost 5 years at the ripe young age of 20 years old. He was 28, and I met him off of Myspace. This was ages ago, (before Facebook times). I had no idea what I was in store for with this man. According to him, I was constantly belittled because I was either "too young to understand" or "so fat and ugly no one else will want me."

He was extremely mentally abusive to me, and I didn't notice my self-confidence deteriorating. I no longer enjoyed writing, and I didn't have the passion or drive to dream much anymore. After I left him, I slowly started to get my confidence back, but I made the mistake of finding it in other people. I should have looked within for self-love and healing.

I got myself into a toxic co-dependent pattern with a few more men I entered into relationships with, including a recovering alcoholic, a manipulative depressed perpetual victim, and a vulnerable narcissist. I do not blame anyone else; I kept running from person to person, trying to help and fix these men when all I needed was some serious self-healing and reflection.

Let me take you back to May 2018, when the most devastating, darkest, and shocking experience I have ever had occurred. At this point, I was in a relationship with the vulnerable narcissist (let's just refer to him as "the narc"). About 5 months into it, we were already practically living together. It was around 11:20 pm, and we were watching an episode of the Netflix series "13 Reasons Why", when my phone lit up. It was my dad.

Now, my dad never calls me; it is usually my mom. My parents also usually go to bed around 10:00, so I immediately knew something wasn't right. I answered the phone and heard my dad's voice. He stated that he didn't know how to tell me this, and he hesitated. I was prepared for him to tell me that something had happened to my mom, my grandma, or one of my brothers. I took a deep breath and told him to tell me the news. He simply responded that my nephew was dead.

My sister's son was less then a week from graduation and less then a month from turning 18, and now he never would. I was in total and utter shock, and I denied it at first. It wasn't until he told me it was a suicide that I completely lost it. I screamed and cried harder than I ever had in my entire life.

I was in a complete fog and in shock for the next couple of weeks. His service actually ended up being right before Memorial Day. Let me paint you a picture of that day...

I lived an hour and a half away, and I had to work that day. I did not get off until 5, and his viewing was from 7 to 9. I asked "the narc" to be ready as soon as I get home, since this was a Friday evening and rush hour started right after I got off work. I emphasized how important it was that he be home so we could leave right afterwards.

I get home around 5:10 pm, walked in, and he was not home. I started waiting until about 5:30, and then I tried to call him. No answer. I texted him, no response. At this point, I was getting more upset by the minute. He didn't even bother to give me a text to let me know he was running late. All I needed was a little communication. I called him again at 5:45, and it went straight to voicemail.

I was just stuck waiting for him since I was already having major anxiety with the thought of having to face my nephew's body for the first time since his death. Finally, a little after 6:30 pm, he rolled in. I immediately demanded an explanation and did not hold back about how upset I was due to his inconsideration. He then tried to make me feel bad by saying, "Oh, I am sorry, I was in a meeting with one of my clients and got us some money." He then went on to throw a huge wad of money at me and walk away.

He had the nerve to actually tell me I could've just gone without him. I was so blinded and drowned in grief that I did not see the huge red flags that were flying high right in front of my face. I got to the viewing a little after 8:00, when I wanted to be there a little before 7:00. The important thing is I made it in time, and I had my family and true friends there. I mustered up all the courage I could and faced my nephew.

I had the privilege of speaking at his service the next day. Here is some of what I said...

"As most of you know, he was a very unique person, so clever, blew most people away. He was very funny and sarcastic, was able to develop the art of sarcasm at age 3, and started using words "actually" and "literally" by 5 and understood what they meant. Even though he is obviously younger then me, I have always looked up to him and really trusted his advice when he gave it to me.

"He was so ahead of his time at such a young age. He never asked me for anything when he was 5,6,7,8 when most kids that age are not shy to address what they want. Every time I offered to take him somewhere or I brought him a treat he would always ask me, 'Are you sure you can afford this? I don't want to take your money.'

"I know that time and time again he would outwit adults, especially his parents, and I know there were plenty of times when he'd be right and his parents would stand their ground and put up a front, but secretly in their minds they'd be like...'Dang it!'

"Your official title to me is nephew, but anyone who knew us saw that you literally are my entire world. You have always put other people's needs before your own and wanted to always help and comfort any way you could. I am sorry that you were suffering in silence for so long and I wasn't able to help you. You, however, have helped me so much throughout my life, and I honestly do not know what kind of a person I would be without you.

"You taught me so much about myself. You showed me what loving someone unconditionally truly meant. You were never a let down to me; even when you got down on yourself, I was always proud of you and felt so blessed to have someone like you love me. You were such a privilege, joy, and comfort in my life and was always there for me when I needed you without question...most of the time I didn't even have to ask, you just knew what I was feeling.

"Whenever I was sad or having a bad day, all I had to do was tell myself that I would be seeing you soon. I knew you would be able to make me laugh, get what I was talking about, and just be on my side about everything. You will always have my heart, and I will always carry you with me. I promise to never forget you and always love the people that were important to you. When I feel my heart breaking, I will stay strong and hold on, because I know I'll see you again. My hope for you right now is to find your own happiness and be at peace; I will always love you."

Just 5 days after his service, I got news that my aunt's husband took his own life the same way my nephew did. At this point, my hope and happiness had been completely vacated from my soul. All I saw going forward was grief, sadness, hurt, anger, confusion, and self-pity.

Not to mention, during all this, I was living with a covert narcissist who absolutely loved seeing me in grief. It was easier for him to control me and to mask the mental abuse he was performing on me every day. He would constantly lie about the simplest and smallest things. He would not even try to cover it up, almost like he wanted me to catch him to upset me.

It was not until mid-2019 that I finally caught on to what kind of mentality he had. We were in the middle of a huge fight, and he started accusing me of being a narcissist out of nowhere. When he said that, something clicked, and I started researching how this mental disorder operates. I will not go into too much detail about that topic now, but what I uncovered was almost identical to what I had endured for the past year and a half.

I was terrified and devastated, but I knew I had to get away from this situation, and I started the process of moving out. During this time, from July 2019 to January 2020, I did some much needed self-reflection. This was when things started to turn around for me. This is where my true happy ending starts.

In January 2020, I met a new friend. I honestly was not looking for anything, and neither was he. We both decided to go on an official first date on Valentine's Day 2020, and we are now living together happily. I need to include this part in the story, because the way he loves me allows me to take true care of myself, including reconnecting to my love of writing.

So, the question is, "What are you passionate about and why?" One word: WRITING! I have always had an affinity for writing, and I believe words and stories, whether fiction or non-fiction, are beautiful. Words are powerful. They have the ability to take someone anywhere they want in this world, or even alternate worlds. In a way, through words, we can make the future into the present.

Think about it for a minute. Everything that exists in this world right now was somebody's vision first. Regular people just like you and me decided they wanted to make their stories a reality. I believe we all have an inner voice that guides us to our true destiny. Call it your soul, higher self, or guardian angel. A higher entity is always guiding us closer to what we are meant to be in this life.

Pessimism, doubt, fear, anxiety, the words, "can't" and "impossible". These are all the things that keep us from reaching our full potential. They are planting lies in our psyche and preventing us from truly listening and trusting this inner voice. Don't feel bad for falling for these lies; I know I have been there and done that way more than I can count. "Can't" is the real "C" word. If you tell yourself you can't do something, then you won't. If you listen to someone who says you can't, and you believe them, then you won 't.

I write because I hope my stories can help and inspire others who are having or have had similar struggles. I write because I want to help others who may feel alone. I write because I believe all stories are worthy of being told, and we can all learn from each and every one of them. I write because it's an escape for me to be able to share my stories with whoever would like to read them. I write so I can have a way to slow down my experiences. Life moves fast, and too many of us are guilty of not celebrating the small things.

In closing, I just want to write and be able to read other stories. Writing is my magic. It's my way of manifesting what I want for my future. It's also a way for me to make peace with my past, not by forgetting, but by forgiving myself and others for my past hardships.