I Still Remember

Often, there are certain people who have said that they have problems. The ongoing unwillingness of not wanting to cooperate, not having any motivation to help anyone comes from having problems, from feeling miserable from living in their present circumstance.

I remember a lot of things that I don’t often reveal, that I don’t talk about because it doesn’t make for pleasant, light-hearted conversation. I write them out instead only when I begin to feel extremely annoyed by others’ conduct for not choosing to be the best that they can certainly be. It’s never clear to anyone what any of us has gone through. Nobody can ever know even a quarter of what any of us has experienced. Regardless of how much we tell, regardless of writing hundreds of pages of our personal accounts of anything, none of us can intimately know anyone’s feelings and thought processes. The only real reason I bring up sensitive circumstances is because I want to assure people that they aren’t alone (however, if I am perceived otherwise, I understand, only, that it’s none of my own doing).

I still remember being threatened and harassed over the phone by classmates in middle school for more than a year. I received calls somewhere around fifty time a day. My parents often left the phone unhooked. My mother blamed me for giving out my number to classmates whom I thought were friends. She also thought there must certainly be something wrong with me for those girls to have threatened to kill me or kidnap me. I remember those days when I left that my mother wasn’t by my side. I never did a mean thing to her; I just wasn’t Chinese in her eyes, really, and that was it. I never defied her nor yelled at her nor rebelled of any sort yet she thought there had to be a legitimate reason for those girls to do what they did. Even threatening the girls that the police would be contacted if they didn’t stop didn’t work. They laughed and continued to threaten me until I started my last year in middle school and the calls stopped.

I still remember when I was in Mexico City and stayed there for about two weeks to take time away from my family in spring 2011. I remember when there was a man who asked me for help (I thought that he was friendly. I talked to him for a few days and I didn’t doubt his being nice as he smiled a lot and we had good conversation). He stayed in his room somewhere and he needed help carrying something out of his room and, because I had faith in his being of good character, I didn’t hesitate to help. I wanted to believe that he wasn’t bad (though, I was in an unpleasant situation in Istanbul as a tourist only that winter when a man expected me to have sex with him in his apartment). I still didn’t lose faith in people at the time. I am being frank when I say that that man locked me and himself in that hotel room and he threatened to suffocate and kill me if I didn’t have sex with him. His face and entire demeanor changed to someone extremely dark and absolutely capable of murder. Suddenly, it dawned on me that he had probably committed many violent acts from the look on his face. I felt horrible at that moment for thinking that that person had any goodness in him –he didn’t. And I don’t want to explain in detail what he did to me but I admit that I went to the police and got help in canceling my credit card because that man robbed me. He didn’t manage to take any cash because my cash was in a very battered pouch; he took my clutch which was only an imitation Prada item. At least I was glad for that. Unfortunately, as I was told it was Mexico, the police said they weren’t able to find that man since crimes went unsolved all the time in Mexico, that it was an everyday occurrence.

I still remember being assaulted in elevators twice in Istanbul, once in Europe and once in Asia. Again, I didn’t have any reason to suspect anyone would commit foul play. In Europe, I asked for directions in a hotel and I ended up not having the heart to end my conversations with the young bellboy abruptly. He said he wanted to show me a nice view of the city and, again, I didn’t think any bad way about him so I went in the elevator with him and he assaulted me. In Asia, I walked home from a shop and I noticed a man on his motorbike twice as I was walking. I thought that he was looking for his way home and didn’t pay much attention. When I finally made it back to where I stayed, I didn’t take much notice of that man having followed close behind me; I actually thought that he lived in my building so I held the door open for him when I entered the building (the building had eight floors and I didn’t know all of my neighbors. Again, I didn’t suspect anything bad to happen). We got into the elevator together and he attempted to assault me. I was confused yet I managed to keep him away from me until the elevator stopped at the sixth floor. He didn’t pursue me further.

I can speak about many assault cases. It’s not taboo to mention assault incidents. It’s not taboo to bring up situations of injustice. I have learned that it’s all just a part of being human; the good and the bad. I find that talking about general topics like how the family is, how work is, how the weather is, how the sports match results may be, etc. doesn’t incline me to feel much; or that living each day on conversations on mundane topics doesn’t personally fulfill me.

I still remember meeting ex-cons and ending communication with them.

I still remember my father suffering from severe back pain throughout my childhood, particularly for more than two years when I was in middle school because he was out of work and, while I didn’t blame my mother for being upset about it (because he wasn’t working and she resented being the sole source of the family’s income at the time), I thought she was a bit too harsh on him because he never retaliated and it was clear that he didn’t feel good. He didn’t have to hear her complain about and insult him every day (it wasn’t going to change the fact that he had a back problem) and anyone’s confidence would be damaged from not working for an extended period of time.

I still remember being unfairly criticized for not behaving in a way that wasn’t me, that didn’t help me grow repeatedly throughout my life even up to now.

I still remember intensely wishing my life to end in my last year in school. I felt more heartaches then than at any other point in my life.

I still remember being rejected in physical education class, in recess, when my classmates and I had to work together on class projects, when everyone thought I wasn’t good enough to be spoken to.

I still remember being so alone in China that I fell into being manipulated by someone I was practicing French with online.

I still remember feeling alone in my first year in university that I got caught up in one-night stands.

I still remember almost being raped by an old, blue-eyed man in a suburb in T’bilisi when I was out walking by a field but, fortunately, I fought him off and ran all the way home. Later when I walked by the field with a fellow teacher, she told me that many girls were dragged into the field, raped and never seen again.

I still remember visiting my mother in the psych ward for two weeks in summer 2012. She hardly saw me; so focused on plotting her departure from the ward, she didn’t pay attention to my crying from when she didn’t acknowledge my arrival but wondered why I didn’t fight for her to come home (it was obvious that she wasn’t well at all).

I am a little tired of people in my life who assume that I know nothing of anything, that my life has been nothing short of pristine. I would like to state that I know pain, that it’s something that I know intimately well but I tell myself that I am going to be okay.

I’m going to be okay in the end.

I’m going to be okay in the end.

I’m going to be okay.

Nowadays, when people tear me down, pull me apart, crumple me up, I tell myself I’m going to be okay. There will be a time when I’m going to live a comfortable life. I will live a peaceful and remarkably beautiful life.

I wonder if we would inflict less pain on others if all of us told ourselves that we will absolutely be okay?

I’m going to be okay. I know I will live well despite the immorality, pain, injustice, negative energy.

I’m going to be okay. I’m going to be okay.