I am – Korean, Japanese, half-angmoh, mainland Chinese, pretty, ugly, fat, geeky, confident, shy, weird, normal, average, cute, stupid, smart, a loser.
At least, that’s what I’d be if I listened to everything I’ve been told by different people over time.
I only realised how silly it was that I was basing myself off others’ opinions when the lady at the bubble tea shop asked if I was from China. I think about 3 people have told me that I speak like a mainland Chinese, while others have told me that my Chinese accent is very weird.
If you ask me, I admit that I am not that fluent, but I really don’t think I sound strange when I speak. In fact, I often attempt to imitate the Taiwanese – the comments that people make must only be proof that I have failed.
& when it comes to looks, gosh. An entire spectrum of remarks, ranging from the snarky to the complimentary.
Recently dyed my hair a darker shade, to get back to my natural colour, which I INSIST is dark brown, not black. Anyway, some say I look better in light brown, others dark. Truthfully I think I prefer light brown hair, but I think it’s just because of my fixation with brown hair & brown eyes.
Yesterday I was scrolling through the FYhalfasian tumblr…so envious of those people who have such exotic mixes. Of course I’m proud to be Chinese, but I often wish I were half-something cool too. Then I’d still be Chinese, but I’d look much prettier on account of the mixed blood. 😦 superficial, I know. But most of them are so gorgeous!
like Ming Bridges.
anyway I’ve been feeling lonely these days, like it’s suddenly hit me that I’ve always been & might always be forever alone in terms of romantic relationships.
I turn on the TV & watch MVs where the girls apply makeup and toss their wavy, shiny locks while the boys serenade them in appreciation.
I read my novel, and it speaks of 13 year old girls hooking up with boys and the thrill of being asked out.
I listen to the radio, each song speaks of having loved or lost someone.
I am tired. Of having to wait for someone.
You know, people write books and songs and make movies about girls falling in love or out of it. But they never touch on what it feels like to be one of the girls who doesn’t know what it’s like at all, not out of choice but just…some mysterious circumstance. Destiny, if you will. Destined to pass her teenage years without having a Teenage Dream of her own.
I guess it’s because it’ll bore people. Who wants to read about a poor lonely girl moping and crying because no boy thinks she’s beautiful and wants to buy her tickets to a concert on Saturday night? No, people want to watch teens sleep around with each other (but not get any STDs because that would ruin the fantasy, wouldn’t it) , get drunk and naked, break up, make up….
There are sweet movies and books, yes, but I can’t relate to those either.
I live vicariously through all these works of fiction, and through the tales of my friends. So yes, perhaps I have been confessed to by scores of admirers too, or treated to lovely dinners. Maybe I’ve held someone’s hand once, or been hugged, or had a song dedicated to me.
What if, for the rest of my life, this is all I’ll ever have? There’s no certainty that love is waiting for me out there, that once I ‘grow up’ (I’m turning 19 – that’s like museum relic-old in relationship terms, especially when you’ve never even been confessed to.) somehow I’m gonna become the proverbial swan and everyone will start flocking to me.
What can I possibly do to make myself stop caring? I must not be doing enough of it, whatever it is.
Please come into my life soon, whoever you are. I don’t care if my mum threatens to take away my college fund anymore, I’ll find a way to talk her around. I just need someone to make my Teenage Dream come true, before I’m officially an adult & the chances of a fairytale ending get slimmer and slimmer.