Winter Passings

Winter is almost over. And in these 5-6 months that winter in Boston has raged on, so many things have happened. I’ve experienced so many emotional high’s and low’s. I’ve come to realize that I’m a fighter. Many people have hurt me, and I’m still hurting. But I’m a fighter. As I’m sitting here in the library listening to the Afternoon Acoustics playlist on Spotify, peering out at the vast, icy Lake Waban and the scenic structures hidden behind tall, aged trees, I realize that I’m in a whole different space and dimension from the person I was a year ago. I’ve grown up so much, and I’ve experienced so much.

The feeling of betrayal will never cease to prick at my heart. It’s when that betrayal comes from someone you least expect that you truly question everything you thought you knew, and you thought you loved.

Yes, I’m at a low right now. I’m hurting – I cried at least 10 times within the last 18 hours – and I’m just now healing. But part of me is happy because I know that what follows a low is a high. I’m starting to experience a lot of loss, but it’s a good thing. I was so caged up and protected before college that I didn’t know what loss was. I lost some really important people in my life, but I’m sure I will find some even more special people in the future – the future that I fully believe to be full of happiness, love, and security.

I just have to keep pushing forward and having faith. And being happy even when I have reason not to be.

View outside from the Clapp Library – “In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.”

Useless Yearning: Unproductivity

Recently, a guy spontaneously flew from California to Chicago to see my friend. Because he “had to see her.” My friend is really special; I’m still trying to figure out how she does it – how she manages to be a friend magnet, a boy magnet, a good-things magnet. It’s not her looks because she’s pretty, but no prettier than any of the other girls we know. It’s not her smarts because she’s smart, but no smarter than any of the other smart girls at my school. It’s not her humor because she’s funny, but no funnier than any of my other hilarious friends. I can’t really pinpoint it. Do you know where I’m getting at? I don’t know how else to explain it. Maybe it’s everything. Maybe she has the perfect combination of looks, smarts, humor, and quirk. Not too much, not too little.

But that’s beside the point. See, my friend met this guy through me. I’m the reason their paths crossed. And though I’m ridiculously happy for her, I also feel insanely jealous. I want to be wanted like that. I didn’t have that with my ex. I don’t think I’ve ever had that. But then again, the kind of guys that I like don’t usually act like that, right? They’re not quiet, extremely nice, almost push-over types like my friend’s new boyfriend. I like really really smart, funny, socially outgoing guys who have their shit together. Like my ex (maybe not exactly like him). He always said the right things. He never got embarrassed. He was never vulnerable. He’s way too intelligent to ever show that kind of vulnerability and sensitivity for a mere girl. He always accomplishes his goals. He has a good life that lacks very little things. He’s not the type to ever chase a girl like that, right?

So what am I to do. I want a nice, sensitive guy, but I also want a socially-ept, intellectually superior guy. Is it possible to have both?

What are my options? Do I keep settling for guys who have one or the other, or do I keep waiting. And waiting. For the right guy. Who may or may not ever show up.

It’s a tough a life. And what’s even sadder is the fact that I’m only 18, so I logically shouldn’t even be worrying. But it’s hard. When all around me, my friends are finding guys who are perfect for them (at least seemingly).

I’ve reached a good balance in my life regarding my ex. I’m starting to feel normal again. While the good memories remain fond in the back of my mind, the thought of him no longer brings tears to my eyes or causes this sharp pain in my chest that I can only assume to be heartache. In fact, I am annoyed by his overall presence. His utter lack of ability to text on social media. His insensibility towards the feelings of others (notably me). Why was I even into him for a second?

I can do so much better. I deserve so much better.

Don’t get me wrong, I still acknowledge his overall decent character. He is allowed a spot in my life, but no more than that.

Resolutions for 2015

Yes, I actually believe that I can do this. And yes, I’m optimistic that 2015 will be good. I’m going to do things right (or righter) this time.

  1. Cut back on the gossip. Even more. Have good intentions.
  2. Take care of myself. Spend more alone time next semester. Don’t disregard sleep.
  3. Surround myself with positive and only positive people. If there aren’t enough of them already, go out of my way to find them.
  4. Watch what I’m putting into my body, and do my best to make sure they are good things. If they’re not, make sure that they are truly worth it. This goes hand in hand with taking better care of myself.
  5. If I want to do something (that could only help me or give me a meaningful experience) but am hesitating because I’m “scared,” just do it. No regrets.
  6. Watch an episode of every TV show “You HAVE to see!” so I know central characters/basic plot lines and can be clued in to pop culture references.
  7. Literally. Stop caring about what other people think of me. As long as I know that I’m doing the right things. Just do me.
  8. EXERCISE. Oh my god. I need to stop neglecting my body. I have got to be strong and fit and healthy. I can’t get sick 3-4 times next semester again.
  9. Forget about boys. Literally forget. About. Males. Shouldn’t be too hard to do. Still look hot and have fun when the situation calls for it though.
  10. In general, be more productive. Actually enlighten my mind and cherish my education. Complete all the goals in this list.

Moving On

I give myself until the new year to sulk around and grieve over the loss of my ex. I want to be nice to and take care of myself, but as I’ve learned, I have to give myself a limit. I can’t let this unproductivity go on indefinitely. I thought I would be okay at the beginning of break when I purposefully went to the library and checked out Thinking, Fast and Slow, a book he had recommended me a while back. I was going to learn from this relationship, from him. I was going to improve myself and make myself worthy of bigger and better things. I had always feared that I wasn’t intelligent enough for him, and I was going to banish this fear by force-feeding myself knowledge in case I get another genius boyfriend in the near future.

But then I couldn’t do it anymore. I was reading the book in his memory. I was doing it for him. I was doing a lot of things for him. I’m still going to finish this book, but only when I feel ready to do it for myself. To improve for myself. To be happy for myself. To forget about him. I came out of my relationship with him stronger, and I’m grateful. That’s all there is to it. My deadline is 2015, so I have 6 more days to feel sorry for myself.

Below are the tools I need to heal.

Reasons he was not the one:

  • I never felt 100% comfortable with him. I was always a little bit intimidated by him, afraid of what he thought of me.
  • Contrary to my earlier belief, the amount of time he spends with his female friends is not normal. And neither is the sheer amount of female friends he has.
  • His roommate (we’re still friends, thank goodness) told me something along the lines of “he was enamored by the idea of ‘alpha male.'” Which, clearly, is not good. This made me glad I got out of the relationship before he was able to hurt me any more than he already had.
  • Physical attraction. Let’s just be real – when it comes to intelligence, I hit the jackpot with this one. (Ooh! He just sent me a Snapchat. Fuck my life that it made me this excited. What was I writing about again?) But physically, I can honest-to-god say that I can do so much better, which sounds kind of bad but it’s true. Like he’s not unattractive, but he would not meet my normal standards, especially his height. So in a way, I’m glad. I feel relieved that I am now free to seek out a better candidate in that respect (but then I think about how hard it is to find someone who has everything nowadays. But I will have faith. And lots and lots of patience. And I trust that it’ll happen). His roommate told me he said that out of all the girls he’s liked, I was one of the most attractive. Which flattered me, obviously. I kind  of hope that it all goes downhill for him from here LOL, as bad as that sounds. But I can’t really even say that I’m joking.
  • He just didn’t seem to care or get jealous when guys hit on me. I mean, he was… concerned. But not jealous. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. Maybe jealousy isn’t really what I’m looking for. But I just want someone who… cares more, you know?

New goals to focus on:

  • Enlighten my mind by reading interesting books and articles as well as daily news.
  • Find a good summer internship.
  • Apply to student leader positions for next year – RA, Academic Peer Tutor – literally basically only so I can get a single LMAO.
  • If possible, learn C++ and SQL on my own this break (or R and Stata? Not actually sure which ones I should learn first LOL ugh).
  • GPA – shadow grading is over next semester! No more partying without limit. No alcohol binges this semester, please. Of course, 4.0. Never less.
  • Do well at my new UROP (research position) at MIT.
  • Maintain and blossom current friendships as well as go out of my way to meet new interesting people.
  • Piano. Maybe join the Chamber Music Society when/if possible? Would be fun.
  • Seek out possible new, interesting clubs to join that would also boost my resume (if the CMS thing doesn’t work out).
  • Keep my eye out for a possible new boo, but don’t settle and don’t be in a hurry. Smarts and looks this time, please. And make sure the two of us are really compatible personality-wise. Make guy friends!

Happy holidays! (Does it infuriate any of you as much as it does me that Wal-Mart is closed today? NOT EVERYONE CELEBRATES CHRISTMAS, ASS TWATS.)


I am a newly single girl. Well, not that newly. We broke up on Friday, the day before I was to fly home for winter break. But I guess I just could never find it in myself to write about it until today. When it first happened, I cried. I cried for a long time. And hard. I thought I was prepared for this break up, I had been anticipating it for almost a month. I was never even in love with him. I always just felt… fondness and admiration for him, I guess. Yet it still came as a shock to me. And I still cannot go to sleep or wake up each morning without sobbing a little. I don’t understand how my heart can ache so much over someone that I’d thought I was ready to let go weeks ago, someone I thought I didn’t care too much about.

But I’ve come to discover that I had grown attached to him without even realizing it. I had come to depend on the routine of sharing things with him, of going to him with my problems, of just having him there to hold me. And regardless, it’s hard to lose someone that you’d spent so much time with, that you share many memories with.

I don’t regret any of it one bit. I came out a better person, and (though I’m a bit doubtful) I hope he did too. He is still the smartest person I know. When we were good, I had never felt more enlightened and motivated to fill my mind with knowledge than when I was with him. He truly did bring out the best in me. My playlist on Spotify has been updated (for the better) because of him, I am now reading books that he recommended me. I even have my new Macbook partly because of him. All of these little nuances of impact he has had on my life do make it harder for me to get over us, but I’m glad nonetheless. Even though we are over, I am determined not to take him for granted, to remember his wise words and follow his sage advice. I have never met someone who was able to achieve their goals so efficiently and effectively, and I admire this greatly about him.

I think we both want to stay friends. We are still one of each other’s best friends on Snapchat. I think we will eventually get past this awkwardness and hopefully become good friends! He would be an amazing friend.

But for now, I just want this ache in my chest to stop.

That Little Bit Of Sadness That Creeps In


I can relate to this so much.

Originally posted on Thought Catalog:


I’m not sure when I realized I was depressed. Maybe it was in the past couple of weeks. Maybe I’ve been depressed my entire life. I have no idea.

I’ve known a lot of people who have said they’re depressed, who would talk about the prescriptions they were on, and write detailed blog posts about their depression, noting every last depressed idea they had. I always thought it was sort of bullshit – the way they talked about it, shrugging it off like it was no big deal, popping pills, then doing the same things they’ve always done. I never related to that because in a way I just thought it all seemed like it was a part of some shitty Tumblr fad. That probably sounds awful and I’m not trying to make light of anyone’s mental illness. All I’m saying is that it didn’t feel genuine to me.

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Trying to be happy

I am having a good hair today. This afternoon, I spontaneously french braided my hair while reviewing math and received multiple compliments. The Christmas spirit is in the air (streaming holiday music as I type), and it promotes an overall positive mood. I’ve made a new friend from the same hometown as me (I am surprised how close we’ve become despite the fact that we met when I was drunk on Amaretto Sours) who I’m excited to spend time with after going home. I just aced my math exam. Despite the fact that I am so not ready for my econ exam tomorrow and it’s already 2 am, I am feeling optimistic about it nonetheless, mainly because I’m looking forward to what’s after it – going home! I want to hold my brother so badly.

But it’s easy to forget about all the things to be happy about. It’s easy to let negative thoughts and negative attitudes from other people bring you down. And that’s how I feel right now. Maybe I just need to go to sleep. I am in a poop mood. Maybe I’m just tired. The one thing I don’t want to think about right now  is my love life. I just can’t go there right now. I just want to forget about it. I want to forget that I even have a boyfriend. I want to lose myself in other things – friends, food, music, festivities. So that I don’t have to think about it. Because thinking about it makes my head spin. It makes me feel things other than completely happy and motivated. Maybe I’m not ready to take on a relationship right now. Maybe I was just lonely and needed affection – needed to feel wanted and loved. Because I’ve come to realize that relationships are hard. Relationships are complicated. They’re confusing. They make you question yourself.

Anyway, I said I wouldn’t think about my love life, and that’s exactly what I just thought about. I’m going to shift my thoughts somewhere else – perhaps on the Phillips Curve and open economy, Okun’s Law and the AS-AD model. Fun! So much less painful to think about!

Goodnight, all.

All I have to say is that I can’t wait to finally be in my own bed again in two days.

Searching for Answers

Every now and again, I wonder whether I’m ready to do the adult things that I’ve recently made a point to do. The truth is, I’m not as at peace with myself as I thought I was. I’m not always happy with myself. I can be an insecure mess. This, added to my innate paranoia, does not yield a happy, confident, cheery person all the time. How can one make another happy – make others happy – if one can’t make oneself happy? My boyfriend once told me that I made him happy and I actually wondered whether he was lying to my face. To me, I’m a nuisance to be around. I can be selfish, I often don’t know how to properly voice my thoughts, and I lack a lot of the characteristics that people would want to have: confidence, humor, intelligence – the more I hang out with people at MIT, the more I realize how fucking brilliant humans can be, and how absolutely deceived I was in thinking that my high school was the smartest place in the country, and worst of all, how stupid I am in comparison. One of my biggest fears is my boyfriend secretly thinking that I’m dumb and desperate – those two adjectives are among the worst that a girl can be called, IMO. Sometimes I wonder whether he dumbs down his speech when he’s with me. That is such an insult, come to think of it. If that were the case, I’d have to dump his ass so hard. But it’d be so embarrassing, knowing that my own boyfriend could not act naturally with me because of how dumb I am.

Because of all of this – because of all of these insecurities (not just in my relationship, in friendships too), I did something today that I’m scared but excited about. I signed up for a counseling/therapy session at the Stone Center here at Wellesley. Sometimes I actually wonder whether I have some kind of a mental disorder because my head doesn’t feel right. I don’t think I’m fully mentally healthy right now, and I think that’s the most important thing. I’m not crazy (I hope). I just need someone to talk to.

1. I can’t tell my parents how late I stay out in Boston almost every weekend. I can’t tell them I’m not a fucking virgin anymore.

2. I can’t tell my friends that sometimes I don’t like them. And that sometimes I wonder whether they hate me. (God, this post is going to make me sound so fucking crazy.)

3. I can’t tell my boyfriend that I wonder if he thinks I’m dumb or whether he puts up with me because I let him fuck me or because I’m out of his league and he wants a pretty girlfriend even if she’s dumb. (Did that even make sense.)

I just can’t let people know how messed up I am on the inside, how damaged. How unhappy (people think I’m a happy person here) I can be sometimes about the most irrational things. I need someone to complain to, I need someone to talk to me and pick at the scabs in my mind (or not) so that I can fix myself up and be healthy up there.

You know?

Until the day comes when people always do what they promise to do i.e. keep their mouth shut when they promise to keep their mouth shut, I will never fully have faith in our race. I will always be skeptical of everything good that is out there. And with good reason.

Hey you

Hey you.

I shouldn’t be writing to you right now, but perhaps now is just the perfect time. Maybe thinking about you will be just the thing to put me back on track. I’ve closed Facebook. I can’t keep doing this – you know, browsing through other people’s lives as if the piles of work in front of me are someone else’s priorities. I promise you, I don’t think about you anymore. I don’t. I’m happy now. I’ve been happy without you for a while now. But I feel like every year for the past few years, I’ve broken down at least once and written you a letter (don’t worry – I can’t keep track of them all. Some of them are probably lost in another dimension. I won’t be sending them anytime soon). I don’t understand it either. I don’t know what made you so different from everyone else who’s stepped foot into my life. You are nothing compared to some of the others. You take up relatively no space in the timeline of my life. Yet you still linger somehow. What makes you so special? You’re not special. Whenever I tell our story to other people, I pause in the middle and wonder why I even feel the need to tell it. It’s insignificant. Especially from their standpoint. But I always include you. Why you?

Maybe it was how unattainable you were from the very beginning. There was a time when I was afraid to even think about it. I only listened to other people talk about you and quietly observed. But I had you. I had you for that split second our eyes met. It was that look in your eyes. It was the shock I felt when I saw the look in your eyes. It was how helpless I was in trying to control my own eye muscles; I couldn’t keep them from widening. Every. Single. Time. And I don’t think I’ve seen that look in anyone else since. Why?

Maybe it was because you saw something beautiful in me before I could see it myself. And I’ve never been able to let go of this appreciation for that. I was insecure, confused, selfish, scared, lost. Yet you saw the good in me. If only for a few short moments.

Maybe it was because I lost you before I had you. Maybe it was because – I don’t know. I think deep down, I’ve compared everyone else to you. Have you become the standard against which everyone else is being measured?

I’m not obsessed with you. I am not even hung up on you. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know why I can never erase you from my memory.

I know you’ll do great things with your life. I think that, as much as I hate to admit it, I’ll always be watching from afar and appreciating it. Appreciating you.


I lost my virginity yesterday. Actually today. Maybe today. I don’t even know. The lines are really blurry. Technically, we tried last night, but it was sort of a failed attempt. We tried again this morning, and it “worked,” I guess? Either way, it hurt like hell. I actually cried. It was so bad. I think I just need to relax more. The second time we tried, it felt good for like a minute before it started hurting again. I can’t really describe the feeling. Pain is definitely in the mixture. He was really nice and tried to be gentle. My vagina still kind of hurts, to be honest. LOLOL. God.

Right before we were about to do it, he said, “I’m not sure how to do this right; I’ve never put on a condom before.” I literally freaked. I was positive he wasn’t a virgin. He’d had two girlfriends before me. We even had this conversation before. I asked him, “So you’ve only been with one other girl?” And he gave me a yes. But I guess I wasn’t explicit enough so he was purposefully ambiguous. God, this boy. I can’t sometimes.

I didn’t expect to do it so soon, but I guess I felt safe. I feel safe with him. Even though he doesn’t really align with what I had in mind for my future boyfriend maybe even a few months ago, I’ve realized that I couldn’t really ask for anything more. He’s so caring, likable, funny, and so fucking intelligent it amazes me every time we hang out. All my friends approve. Even my friends’ boyfriends approve. And it’s not like I’m in love. I honestly thought I wanted to be in love the first time I had sex, but I’ve realized that that doesn’t have to be the case at all. Regardless of whether I am in love with this man, I love him. We are so compatible personality-wise. He makes me want to be the best version of myself (kill me, that sounds so cliche); I feel more confident around people now. And I thought I’d feel different after my first time (it’s hard to think of myself as not a virgin anymore), but I don’t. I don’t feel anything. I don’t feel differently about him either. I was afraid that maybe I’d be more attached, but that isn’t the case.

Right now, the only thing kind of nagging me is the fact that I’m paranoid that I might be pregnant and that somehow the condom broke, LOL. But I don’t think I would be me if I were’t paranoid about this shit. I just need for my period to come next month, and all the burden will be lifted from my shoulders.

Anyway, as of now, other than the fact that I’m sick as fuck (my nose will not stop running, ew) and have piles of work to do, I’m happy.

Peace out, amigos.


I can no longer keep up with the pace at which life is happening all around me. I want to slow down. I just want everything to slow down so that I can have time to process it all. This goes to you especially, Stanley Chang – my beloved math professor whom I hate at times. You write too fast. You talk too fast. We get it – you’re brilliant. You’re a quirky, funny, brilliant, brilliant gay man who loves the Classics, but sometimes you just need to slow down. I feel bad for the other kids in my class who have never been exposed to multivariable calculus. You make Lagrange multipliers feel like the very fiery hell that we all fear the most. The worst part is how absolutely unhuggable you are.

But it’s certainly not just Stan who needs to take a step back and allow me time to catch up. It’s everyone. Everyone – please. Take a deep breathe and let me just look around. Let me just listen to one bird song and actually enjoy it before you pull me away by the arm to participate in what’s next on our long list of things to do. I want to sit (maybe lay) down on Severance Green and just look up. At the sky, the trees, the red autumn leaves. The way I was always meant to.

My life was never supposed to get this hectic, but it has, and I’m not used to it. I don’t know what to do. I feel like many people here suppress a lot of their frustrations. Maybe it’s because there’s a general consensus that certain things can’t be mentioned or that certain issues can’t be brought up. Everyone is expected to be happy, friendly, and understanding all the time, and it just gets to be too exhausting.

I need a break.

I want to just stay in my room for 24 hours straight and figure out who I am, what I want, and what I should do next.

But I can’t, Because life happens regardless of whether I’m ready for it.

I just have to adapt, I guess.

Falling, free falling

Fall in New England is just… wonderful. It’s magic on magic on magic. It’s nostalgic even though this is my first time here. Seeing the beautiful autumn leaves makes me relive every happy thing that ever happened to me, and I can’t explain it. Therein lies the magic.

Being out here, among the trees, by the lake… it just opens up the soul and creates a feeling of optimism and serenity unlike any other. It’s like the time one yogi told me to open up my chest while I was lying on my back with my legs straight up above me. I expanded my lungs, took a deep breath, and by the time I exhaled, I had released every negative molecule in my body. I feel that now, except amplified.

I want to start meditating again. This weather makes me want to just be calm and happy and zen all the time. I just want to vanquish my inner demons.

Hard to Read

So… this guy that I wrote about in my previous post. I honestly don’t know how I feel about him. It was fine the first two dates. I felt pretty much sure about him and that I liked him, or at least was beginning to. But then the third date happened….

Long story short: We kissed. He stuck his tongue in my mouth and tried to do some other stuff. Which I shot down. And he willingly obliged. Which is a good sign I guess (he is definitely not an asshole). But it came as sort of a shock. Which it probably shouldn’t because obviously he is a man and he has a penis. The mood just suddenly changed from our previous dates I guess. Before, it’d been all warm and fuzzy and sweet. (I like that LOL.) It was totally innocent, and I got the good feels. But this time, he was clearly horny. Part of me felt like he was trying to move too fast. We’d only hung out 2 times before this…. Honestly, I was surprised and on edge as soon as he stuck that tongue in my mouth. (Please don’t even get me started on the kissing. I don’t even know if it was good LOL.)

I just don’t know what his intentions are, and maybe it’s just that I don’t really know how read signs. I don’t want to be the gullible, inexperienced, innocent (dumb) college freshman that gets emotionally attached to a senior and then gets hurt in the end. I didn’t think he was the type, but he’s so hard to read. Maybe he was just testing the boundaries those first two dates. Like, if he just wants to have fun and have something casual, that’s fine. He can find someone else to have fun with. I like him for his personality, sense of humor, and intelligence. If I wanted to have fun, I would go for someone else, to be very honest.

All my friends keep telling me that I can do so much better. He is not even that attractive. I wouldn’t stay with him just to have fun.

Which is why I need to know. Now. As soon as possible. Whether he actually even takes me seriously!

We’re meeting tomorrow night again. I will literally straight up ask him what he wants from me. We planned on going hiking or bowling Saturday, so I guess I might cancel that plan depending on his answers, lol.

He’s a senior…. He will be gone next year. Will he just disappear?



So I went on my first real date last night. He was a guy I met on Tinder (yes… this part still makes me feel weird). He’s a senior at MIT majoring in computer science and math. When we talked on Tinder, I was immediately intrigued because he was so formal and serious. And he just seemed really intelligent, which is REALLY attractive to me. I was worried for a while by the fact that he didn’t really open up and crack jokes because I thought that maybe he just wanted sex (this is Tinder, after all). Maybe he was super busy with school and work and being a genius and he just needs some side action. I know I’m overly paranoid, but my self-protective instincts do me well. But after I gave him my number, I saw a different side of him. He’s clearly very smart, but he can be funny. And he’s sweet too. He agreed to come over to Wellesley, and suggested cooking together and a movie afterwards (we watched Oceans 11, his all-time favorite movie). Another thing that kind of bothered me was the fact that he’s kind of short. He’s 5’7″, I’m almost 5’6″, so there is basically no height difference. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about it, but in the end I didn’t care that much at all.

Basically, I couldn’t have asked for a better first date. He was respectful, nice, funny, likable, and really cute. There were multiple times during our time together that I felt like he had the opportunity to take advantage of me, but he never crossed the line. We have a lot of things in common, a lot to talk about, and many things to laugh about. My favorite thing is the fact that I can potentially see him challenge me as a person. He takes me out of my comfort zone and then makes me feel comfortable. We sang karaoke and danced kpop for like 3 hours last night LMAO.

I like him, but I don’t know if I have feelings for him yet. I feel like I need to hang out with him some more to know for sure. Before he left to board the bus to go back to MIT this morning, he looked at me like he was going to kiss me. And I feel like I wouldn’t have been ready for that in that moment, and I think he could tell. We hugged instead. It was a lingering hug, and I think I actually got the butterflies (lmao this is so embarrassing).

Some things I’m not sure about:

1) He goes to a co-ed school – why does he have a Tinder account. It’s not like he lacks female peers.
2) I stalked his FB. He seems very popular. He has a lot of friends, many of whom are very attractive females. Why me?
3) Why not find someone his own age? Why a freshman?


Hi guys :)

Sorry it’s been so long since I last posted on this blog. So much has happened. The short version: College is treating me well! I’ve made a tight-knit group of friends (there are four of us) along with some scattered friends in each of my classes and in my residence hall. I love Boston! I’ve gone into the city every weekend since I arrived, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave it. I’ve been to three college parties (one at MIT, two at Wellesley), and they’ve been…. interesting. I no longer feel deathly uncomfortable dancing; it’s actually quite the opposite. I guess I just had to be with the right people and in the right environment. I am also no longer a “grinding” virgin. (I felt someone’s dick… that was not pleasant. WHAT IS THE APPEAL TO GRINDING? I guess it’s a way to avoid kissing the guy…). I let some guy grope me and feel me up because I was too stupid to be more vocal in my objections. Thank goodness a friend saw how uncomfortable I was and got me out of that situation. He tried to kiss me, and I almost let him. But a voice inside my head stopped me. I’m glad. I want my first kiss to be with someone who actually cares about me… not some random drunk guy who basically violated me.

I’m excited for future mixers and parties though. Because I think that I’ve learned how to handle them. I’m excited to meet… better guys. I really like this balance that I’ve found here at Wellesley. I work so hard during the week, and on the weekend, I can allow myself to freak out over boys and try to fall in love or something (not at a party or something though…).

Also, I don’t know if I should be ashamed about this, but I made a Tinder account. That’s right. I mean, I go to a women’s college. There are millions of college students in this city. It’s a good way to meet people. Please don’t judge me! People have requested to meet up with me or take me out. I’m kind of hesitant because there’s always that voice in the back of my head telling me that every one of these guys is a rapist. But at the same time, I’m excited. My friends have offered to stalk us in the beginning to make sure these people are safe. But I shouldn’t solely rely on them to protect me. I need to protect myself. I guess I just have to talk to people some more and judge their character before meeting them in person. Some of the guys I’ve matched with are really sweet.

I’m excited for the future!

I couldn’t bear it.

What does it mean to be soulless?

Every human being has a soul, right? But sometimes life just dulls out the light in you. Sometimes, you’re just tired. The pain that you’ve experienced, the things (and people) that have been taken from you – you’ve had enough. It shows in your eyes. I got a good look at your eyes that night. There was a profound sadness in them that made me shudder. When did they lose their warmth?

Don’t look directly at me. I can’t bear to see such unhappiness resonating in your eyes. I’ve had my dark moments, but the one place where the light never fades is my eyes. They will always brighten when they see the stars, when somebody tells a good joke. They will always light up and accompany the sound of my laughter. And even when I cry, the tears don’t wash away the life – they magnify the sparkle in my eyes even more because at any moment the frowns could turn into laughter when a loved one tries to cheer me up. You see, it’s not difficult to find things to lift the spirits.

I’m just sad that this little light could not ignite the light within you.

I’m sorry.

But it’s like they say: “In the depths of winter, I found in me an invincible summer.” We can all do the same.

How an Abortion Saved My Life (Kind Of, Not Really)

twin embryos

I wouldn’t exist if abortions didn’t exist. Back in the mid-1990s in China, my mom was working as a radiologist in a hospital. Back then, I guess the protective facilities for doctors weren’t as good as they are now. I recently found out that my mom was actually pregnant with twins before she was pregnant with me. But due to her work environment, the twins were exposed to too much radiation, so she aborted them. Consequentially, she had me instead. And then twelve and a half years later, my brother was born.

It’s hard on my brain to think about the fact that I wouldn’t exist if my twin siblings hadn’t experienced such a tragic ending. If they were healthy, I wouldn’t exist. China’s One Child Policy guarantees that. But it’s also strange to think about the fact that my brother could perhaps still be born, since we had relocated to the States long before his birth in 2008. What if circumstances had been different? In an alternate universe, my brother wouldn’t just have one sister, but another brother or sister. In fact, in an alternate universe, I could actually have a twin (how awesome would that be?). It’s crazy to think about.

So yes, I will always be in favor of legalizing abortion. Yes, it can be devastating. Yes, it can easily be construed as murder. But it saved my life, didn’t it? 

Andi Dorfman – Slut-Shamed?

To be honest, while watching the actual episodes of The Bachelorette, I supported Andi. I understood that she had many difficult decisions to make, and I absolutely 100% support her final choice. Earlier choices – I’m not so sure about. I, for one, was in love with Marcus, and it physically pained me to watch him go. He was hands down the best bachelor on the show (I also loved Chris and JJ), but maybe that’s just me. Josh is cute, though. He’s obviously a good man with values, and I respect that. He and Andi might just be great together. I’m not the biggest fan of Nick, but during After the Final Rose I FELT for him! That’s when I realized how correct Eric Hill (R.I.P.) was in his accusations. Andi is a bitch.

First of all, during the segment, Andi had such a cold attitude toward Nick. I can’t help but wonder if that is her true face, the one that she can finally safely reveal now that the show is technically over and she no longer needs her “pokerface.” I can’t help but suspect whether her heartfelt, apologetic breakup with Nick was just an act so that viewers would remain sympathetic towards her, so that she wouldn’t be seen as “the bad guy,” which she totally, without a doubt is.

But when Nick asked, “If you weren’t in love with me, why’d you make love to me?” I was shocked. That is absolutely not okay to me. Not what Nick asked, but what Andi did. Nick has every right to ask this question; it’s a valid question that, by the way, Andi couldn’t give an appropriate answer to! Andi clearly knew early on that she wasn’t going to choose Nick, which is FINE. But to know this and then sleep with Nick anyway? If that’s not a slut, then what is? If that’s not a bitch, then what is? I’m not saying every girl has to know that she’s in love with her guy to be able to have sex with him. But not only was Andi not in love with Nick, she WAS in love with Josh! So why did she have to bring her relationship with Nick to the next level? Just to toy with him? Obviously, her job as the Bachelorette requires her to lead on many guys to a certain extent. But sex is “below the belt,” it was never aired, and it was COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY! This one is 100% on Andi. It’s proof that she is without a doubt a slutty bitch.

Am I “slut-shaming” her, though? No, I don’t call that slut-shaming. I call it “bad-person”-shaming. Saying that I’m slut-shaming Andi is like saying I can’t criticize a woman for cheating on her husband, which is on par with what Andi did. To me, slut-shaming means BULLYING (not just criticizing, but making her life hell) a SINGLE girl who likes to sleep with multiple guys, and it may or may not be at once. Obviously, that’s a mean thing to do, and it shouldn’t be done. It ESPECIALLY shouldn’t be done exclusively to females, which is just plain sexist. However, people should be allowed to call girls AND GUYS out for being a “slut” without being labeled a slut-shamer. I feel like society is getting to the point where people are SO excessively concerned with being liberal and “politically-correct” that it now is a crime to even voice one’s thoughts. CHILL THE FUCK OUT.

Regardless, Andi’s situation so goes beyond the term “slut-shaming.” Some people believe that if the gender roles were reversed, people wouldn’t be so shocked by the lead’s (the Bachelor/Bachelorette) actions, and that the Bachelor probably sleeps with multiple girls and viewers would be fine with it. WELL THIS VIEWER ISN’T. First of all because I’m not sexist. I would never respect a guy who did that, and if he did it to me, I would leave his ass like Andi (which I really respected her for back then) left Juan Pablo. It goes both ways. If you are already in love with someone else, and you know for sure you aren’t going to choose a certain person, DON’T SLEEP WITH THEM FOR THE HELL OF IT. That is a bitch, dirtbag, douche move that I do not approve of.

I honestly cannot tell if that smile of hers is real or fake.

I honestly cannot tell if that smile of hers is real or fake.


What Even?


Is it weird that I’m jealous of my mother?

Like, I literally believe that my mom is more beautiful than me. She is pale (yes, I’m Asian, which means I don’t believe in the beauty of tanning), unlike me. She has perfectly clear (normal, not oily or combination) skin, unlike me. And most of all, she is extremely photogenic, unlike me. Honestly, did I seriously neglect to receive any of her good genes? I just saw her work ID photo, where her hair is messily tied up and she is wearing smocks (she works in a hospital), and she looks fucking pretty. Which isn’t something I can say for myself in ID photos. Ever. Or any photos taken by others for that matter. (I’m actually a boss at selfies, though, because I can control the lighting and basically my face.)

My mother is 45 years old and she looks not a day older than 30. I’m 18 years old and people mistake me for someone in her 20s (even LATE 20s once, which honestly felt freaking AMAZING at the time – NOT) sometimes. She has actual BOOBS (not huge, though, by ANY means. But to me what she has is good enough. I personally hate large breasts), unlike me. Frankly, I’m ashamed of myself for admitting this, but I am actually envious of my mother.

Did I not meet the societal expectation that offspring should surpass parents? I honestly don’t comprehend this. Why? WHY.

No Chemistry with Chemistry

Today I woke up feeling like crap, for reasons I’d prefer not to think about. But I want to turn it around! Even though it’s already noon, this can still be a highly productive day.

Goals for today:
1. Finish at least 5 chapters of the chemistry review book (not counting the last 2 pages of the one I didn’t finish yesterday…)
2. Exercise. That’s right – for the first time this entire summer, I plan on not being a lazy bum today. I was thinking yoga or zumba.

I don’t have many goals for today because I have a feeling #1 is going to take forever, especially taking into account the amount of procrastination I’ll probably also involve.

As a science-lover, I just have to emphasize my strong dislike for chemistry. You might even say I hate it. It’s just so tedious to learn,  and it takes extra effort to understand all the concepts because they’re all so abstract (I suck so hard at spatial thinking)!! I’ve taken lots of chemistry before, but it’s been 8-9 months since I even thought about the subject, and and I seriously need some reviewing if I want to place out of General Chemistry this fall. Cannot go through that hell again.


New waterproof winter boots!

I’m Sad


Something has happened way too often to me. Growing up, I’ve seldom had great, awesome friendships. Even now, most of the friendships I’m lucky enough to have are just kind of meh. Don’t get me wrong, the people I’m friends with are awesome people. But maybe they just know me too well, or maybe they’re too similar to me. The friendships themselves just aren’t really the ideal type that I want to have, you know? I’ve more or less settled for the quality of friendships I’ve had all my life.

With a few rare exceptions. I’ve had, like, four true best friends. But circumstances have caused all of those relationships to disseminate – most of the time, it was just the fact that they moved to a different city (this happened with 3 of them). My most recent best friend and I kind of just drifted apart. She found a new group of friends, I guess. We’re still really, really good friends, but we don’t talk nearly as much. She still hits me up once in a while to vent to me (I’m kind of hesitant to do the same simply because I feel that disconnect) because we just had a habit of venting to each other. We listened to each other’s problems, and we genuinely tried to help each other. (I don’t experience this often with people; most of the time they’re too caught up with their own issues to truly care. That’s just how people are – they’re selfish unless they truly care about a person.)

The moment I really felt that break in our bond was when she broke my trust (I think I wrote a post about this trust thing a few months ago). It really hurt because for the longest time I saw her as that one person who was the most trustworthy. I’d trusted her with a lot of my secrets because I knew she would keep them to herself. And she did. Until a few months ago when she broke my trust even though I specifically asked her not to tell anyone (but I guess that “someone” is just closer to her than I now). I still have a lot of respect for her because she owned up to it and apologized, but I don’t think I will ever be able to fully trust her again.

The best friend before her, my best friend in junior high, and I were extremely close as well. But lately (according to Facebook, which I know isn’t all that trustworthy but still), I see that she’s changed a lot. For one, she has a boyfriend. And, I don’t know, she gets her eyebrows done routinely (yes, I can tell), she gets her hair colored every month, and she’s started wearing makeup. She was never the type to do any of those things. I mean, she’s always had a habit of flirting with way too many guys, but it just didn’t matter as much when she didn’t have a boyfriend. I just feel like she’s become the very type of girl that we used to hate back when we were best friends. And I know I might be too quick to judge, but that’s just the impression I get. Maybe it’s just because I feel so distant from her now. We haven’t talked in months. It’s crazy. But even when we do talk, I just get the very clear sense that she’s changed so much. Obviously, I probably changed as well, but (at least from my perspective) I feel like the same person.

It’s rough. I just hope that in college I will have it in me to finally go out and make those long-lasting friendships that I’ve always wanted to have.

Crazy (to say the least)


So I recently got into trashy reality television – I started three in the last week: The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, and Married at First Sight. Let me just start off by saying that I think these people are absolutely CRAZY. Going on these shows, to me, is a sign of desperation (or maybe they just want the attention of being watched by millions on TV), since they clearly can’t seem to find a decent love life in the real world, the natural way. However, I can’t see why they would possibly be desperate since, in order to be on one of these shows, one has to meet certain qualifications. Physical attractiveness is one of them. They also seem to have a certain level of charisma and social adequacy. Most of them are relatively successful in their careers, and they’re loved by their family. Simply put, they seem to have their life together (it’s impossible to have it any other way, or else these people wouldn’t be perceived as desirable by the other players on the show)! So why would they go to such lengths to “find love”? The only possible explanation is that they’re plain crazy.

Also, The Bachelor/Bachelorette, especially, make me extremely uncomfortable. How are these men/women stupid and naive enough to fall head over heels for some trashy reality star and then watch him/her kiss/fuck their 10+ other competitors? Has the world really come to this? These shows do nothing but promote polygamy under the pretense of finding monogamy, (“Oh! I want to find the one! I want to find passion and true love!” Bullshit. Excuse me while I go puke on my Cosmo.) Like, how can these people bear that? How can they still like/love someone who is swapping spit (or worse, bodily fluids) with a different person every day/week? How is that “finding love”? How desperate can someone (who is seemingly beautiful, successful, and charismatic) be? The concept is just so extremely stupid to me. It’s honestly hard to watch sometimes.

To be honest, though, as much as I would hate being one of the 25 people vying for the heart of the Bachelor or the Bachelorette (I would never put myself in that awful situation), it would be fucking awesome to be the Bachelor or the Bachelorette and have 25 people fighting for my love and surrounding me and loving me and worshipping me and making me their queen. That’s the life, man.

Despite the fact that I hate the concept behind these shows and I’m like 97.6% sure everyone on them is hopelessly dumb, I still can’t help but watch them and enjoy them and even find them cute sometimes. The guys are actually really hot. And Andi Dorfman (as bitchy and slutty as she is) is actually really pretty (her voice sounds exactly like Nina Dobrev’s, and they actually look pretty similar as well). Speaking of Andi Dorfman – even though she’s an attorney, I seriously questioned her intelligence when she said to Juan Pablo, “I just like being in court. I don’t read. I hate reading.” (Or something along those lines.) Um, 85% of a lawyer’s job is to read. I don’t even know sometimes.

Needless to say, I’m so conflicted about these shows!!

Body Confidence and Political Correctness

There are so many movements that aim to promote body confidence or body acceptance in women (and men, but I can’t really speak for them). Is it just me, or are those movements actually pretty futile? I’m going to try to approach this topic from a politically-correct perspective, but in all honesty, fuck that. It’s so tiring to be politically correct all the time. It’s impossible not to offend somebody, unless you speak like an alien, always use “gender-neutral” (or whatever) pronouns, and, most of all, never, ever actually communicate your true opinions. But in this post, I will. Because I can.  Continue reading

Wellesley Shopping List

  • snow boots (boy, are the ones I got cute!) – waterproof and toasty
  • down jacket for those cold, cold, wintry days
  • 2 pairs of high quality, durable jeans (preferably from American Eagle) – medium wash, at least one pair of skinny
  • shower caddy (maybe also loofah?)
  • water filter
  • 4-5 notebooks
  • good weekly planner
  • highlighters
  • maybe some additional cute (but allowably cheap) clothes? hehe
Wellesley College, Galen Stone Tower

Wellesley College, Galen Stone Tower


Okay, I am kind of pissed off right now. For multiple reasons. But I will touch on the most recent one first. I’ve noticed a very prevalent trend lately on social media sites and blog sites where people just feel a strong need to criticize everything (in the comments, etc). People pour their heart and soul into creating something they’re proud of, and then you just go and ruin all of that to boost your ego. Literally, I’ve read posts where there is literally NOTHING about it that you can possibly, for good reason, criticize, and then I scroll down to the comments section just to find that 80% of the people are judgmental of it in one way or another.

Like HOLY SHIT half these people use the most atrocious grammar and spell “prove” with two o’s. How are they in any position to tear apart someone’s hard-work? It’s just so obnoxious. I even feel like these people just criticize for the sake of criticizing. I’m all for sharing opinions and free speech. But just because it’s legal to say whatever you want, the moment what you say hurts another person, you should rethink yourself. As a member of this society. Like, you can say you disagree; that’s fine. But use words. Use decent, human words that don’t include derogatory terms. People seriously need a lesson on how not to be a complete asshole. Not just online, but in all areas, actually.


Hello! I’m back from China! After two months of immersing in a very monophonic culture, I’ve realized that I’ve lost some of my English abilities – I get occasional brain-farts while conversing with native English-speakers (never noticed how FAST we speak) and can’t think of slang expressions that I want to use on the spot. It’s quite sad, actually. Also, I tried hand-writing some things last night, and my handwriting looks…uh, different (translation: bad). It’s okay, hopefully time will fix all these things.

Also, transferring flights in Toronto was one of THE worst life experiences I have ever had. Even broke down in tears in front of a (very tall and handsome) American Airlines representative. It was embarrassing, but he seemed nice enough not to further make me feel like crap. I won’t elaborate on the horrific layover experience because it brings up bad memories (even though it was, like, yesterday), lol. So I digress.

Additionally, as soon as I got home, my TOM (time of the month) came, so I knew it was going to be crampin’ time again (I have the absolute WORST period cramps on the first day. Like, every time I literally feel like puking and going number 3 at the same time. Sigh, my life is too hard). Sure enough, just as I was getting ready for bed (got home at around 1 AM, mind you), the pain started. It was unbearable. This, added onto my horrible jetlag, added onto my semi-insomnia, resulted in my getting a grand total of 90 minutes of sleep. It was great. Uh, not. My stomach (that’s probably not the correct term – uterus?) is still hurting as I’m typing this, by the way.

The trip in general was interesting and eventful. Along the way, I was able to cross off numerous things from my bucket list, which was absolutely amazing. Needless to say, I saw a lot. But the trip also made me realize a lot of things that I thought differently about before, so I will probably reflect about those things in a later post. Now, I’m going to try and fix my internal clock with a melatonin tablet (ugh). I will leave you with a beautiful sneak peek (taken by my brand new camera) of the many wonderful sights I saw.

Lugu Lake
Yunnan, China


The Boston Student ‘Bucket List': 10 Things You Must Do Before You Leave Beantown


I’m going to come back to this! (Sorry for the absence; anything with “wordpress” in the URL is BLOCKED in China! :C)

Originally posted on Thought Catalog:

In a city where the residents and visitors are energetic running enthusiasts, I’ve often wondered when anyone has the time to stop and “smell the roses,” (or the tulips, if you’re in the Boston Public Garden), especially in a bustling metropolis where work, studies, and other intellectual obligations dictate students’ schedules. My personal experience with bucket lists is that they just aren’t – they’re more of a romanticized conception of what you WOULD do IF you had the time.

Instead of theoretical ponderings, here is a “bucket list” of ten beautiful buildings you SHOULD and CAN explore before you have to leave Boston. Feel free to run, walk, or even take the MBTA on your adventures, as the locations are listed by their positions on the public transport line. 

Go out there and explore, snow or shine. You won’t always be twenty-something living in Boston! 

10. Historic North End 


View original 1,046 more words


So I’m just, you know, hanging out at DFW all by my lonesome right now. I board in 23 minutes. It’s kind of lonely (this is my first time flying internationally alone), but at the same time I like observing the flow of people and the chatter peacefully by myself.

Random picture of a new toner I got because I feel like this post needs some visual embellishment :)

Random picture of a new toner I got because I feel like this post needs some visual embellishment :)

A Tribute (Not) to Someone

I see the way you admire yourself in front of our sink mirror.
You tie your hair up. You quickly let it down. It’s not much better.
That mucky yellow-brown hair. You love your dyed hair.
You run your hands through it again.
You smile at yourself. Forty-five minutes pass.
I grit my teeth, still waiting for a chance to brush them.
Waiting until you stare at yourself long enough to see someone beautiful.
You are not  beautiful.
No, as far as I’m concerned, you are narcissistic.

The girl I knew before I really knew you was someone I liked.
Someone I would consider beautiful.
Now I know that, to the outside world, you only pretend
to be friendly, selfless, kind.
You pretend so that you can gain the things you treasure.
Attention, companionship, adoration. Your words are empty.
You need stimulation. Social stimulation.
So you suppress your ugly, selfish side.
You save that side for me.

Now, no matter how I look at you,
no matter how long you take to apply your makeup
and brush your hair,
change in and out of clothing,
I only see mean.

I could never stand up to you.
I never had it in me,
no matter how hard I tried to be courageous.
I guess I’d just never met someone like you.
Every time I respond to your sharp words
with soft words
of submissiveness, weakness, and fear,
I think of a cleverer response much later.
One that I wish I had said,
but know that I wouldn’t have,
even if I had it on the tip of my tongue.
Because I don’t do conflict.

But that’s a lesson I will have learned through my time with you.
Because of you, I know to be stronger,
Because of you, I know to grow.

I know that your time will come, too.
Soon, someone will finally be able to do what I never could.
They’ll be even more thick-skinned than you.
They won’t take your shit.
Both literally and  figuratively.

As for now, I just can’t wait until
I will never see the reflection of your face
through our sink mirror ever again.
Striving so hard to be beautiful
but never achieving it.


Pretty by Katie Makkai

When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother, “What will I be? Will I be pretty? Will I be pretty? Will I be pretty? What comes next? Oh right, will I be rich?” Which is almost pretty depending on where you shop. And the pretty question infects from conception, passing blood and breath into cells. The word hangs from our mothers’ hearts in a shrill fluorescent floodlight of worry.

“Will I be wanted? Worthy? Pretty?” But puberty left me this funhouse mirror dryad: teeth set at science fiction angles, crooked nose, face donkey-long and pox-marked where the hormones went finger-painting. My poor mother.

“How could this happen? You’ll have porcelain skin as soon as we can see a dermatologist. You sucked your thumb. That’s why your teeth look like that! You were hit in the face with a Frisbee when you were 6. Otherwise your nose would have been just fine!

“Don’t worry. We’ll get it fixed!” She would say, grasping my face, twisting it this way and that, as if it were a cabbage she might buy.

But this is not about her. Not her fault. She, too, was raised to believe the greatest asset she could bestow upon her awkward little girl was a marketable facade. By 16, I was pickled with ointments, medications, peroxides. Teeth corralled into steel prongs. Laying in a hospital bed, face packed with gauze, cushioning the brand new nose the surgeon had carved.

Belly gorged on 2 pints of my blood I had swallowed under anesthesia, and every convulsive twist of my gut like my body screaming at me from the inside out, “What did you let them do to you!”

All the while this never-ending chorus droning on and on, like the IV needle dripping liquid beauty into my blood. “Will I be pretty? Will I be pretty? Like my mother, unwrapping the gift wrap to reveal the bouquet of daughter her $10,000 bought her? Pretty? Pretty.”

And now, I have not seen my own face for 10 years. I have not seen my own face in 10 years, but this is not about me.

This is about the self-mutilating circus we have painted ourselves clowns in. About women who will prowl 30 stores in 6 malls to find the right cocktail dress, but haven’t a clue where to find fulfillment or how wear joy, wandering through life shackled to a shopping bag, beneath those 2 pretty syllables.

About men wallowing on bar stools, drearily practicing attraction and everyone who will drift home tonight, crest-fallen because not enough strangers found you suitably fuckable.

This, this is about my own some-day daughter. When you approach me, already stung-stayed with insecurity, begging, “Mom, will I be pretty? Will I be pretty?” I will wipe that question from your mouth like cheap lipstick and answer, “No! The word pretty is unworthy of everything you will be, and no child of mine will be contained in five letters.

“You will be pretty intelligent, pretty creative, pretty amazing. But you, will never be merely ‘pretty’.”


I am never going to have sex.

So I had a dream that I was having sex last night. It wasn’t graphic or anything, lol. Well, actually it kind of was. Not going to go into detail about it, though. It was only after it (the sex) was finished that I realized that the guy (some random guy I conjured up in my dream, he looked like a rapist) wasn’t wearing a condom. I wasn’t having safe sex. In my dream state (although it felt extremely real), I wondered why I wasn’t having protected  sex, why I was having sex in the first place. It just seemed so unlike me. I’m responsible, I’m always overly prepared for everything, I’m somewhat of a feminist (guys can do shit with their bodies without worrying about things like pregnancy, while females can’t).

I suddenly became really worried, so I asked the guy if he had AIDS (I’m kind of blunt in moments of anxiety; no time to play games).

“No, but I have HIV.” As if HIV and AIDS were two completely separate diseases, as if one was less threatening or fatal than the other.

What is the difference?! Both are a death sentence. (Basically. Although I’m aware that there are HIV-positive people living normal lives, but I would prefer not to be HIV-positive. I would prefer not to have a shitty immune system and die decades earlier than I’m supposed to. I would prefer not to spend millions on colorful pills. I may as well be dead.)

Suddenly, I was infuriated. By this man standing in front of me who engaged in sexual activity with me knowing he had a sexually transmitted virus. Who was so careless and thoughtless that he didn’t even think to wear a condom. Who had no regard whatsoever for the well-being of others.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Just wash yourself right now. Especially the outside. It should be fine.”

What the fuck? The outside? If it was the outside that mattered, people wouldn’t be dying from AIDS all over the world right this moment. 

Obviously this man was delusional. I might as well be speaking to a dead horse (he was dying, anyway).

I was terrified. I was hyperventilating. My mother came in (I have no idea why she was there) and asked me what was wrong. I was panicking. What was I going to tell her? That she was about to go bankrupt? That her only daughter had disobeyed her and not only had premarital sex, but had premarital sex with a stupid, reckless, diseased man I didn’t even like. The sex wasn’t even that good.

It was then that I snapped out of my dream. I woke up in my dorm bed. The first thoughts that entered my mind were, I haven’t had sex, I haven’t had sex. I don’t have HIV. I’m safe.

Two seconds later, I’m never going to have sex.

Who can I trust? How do I know these men aren’t walking around with HIV? Even if I wait until marriage, how do I know my husband isn’t walking around with HIV. It’s just so stupid. Is sex worth dying for?

My mom is right. I should probably listen to her for my own safety. The other day, I told her that I wanted to lose my virginity before marriage. She was mortified, of course, and even threatened to not send me off to Boston for college. After reading half of Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar, I could relate to a lot of what Esther Greenwood was talking about. It just seemed so unfair, that all guys either have premarital sex or want to have premarital sex. And girls are expected to remain “pure” for their husbands. At least that was the expectation of young women in the 1950s, when the story took place. But that’s also what’s expected of me now by my family.

But I just think that it’s impossible for me to find a good husband who is also “pure.” There are no guys like that, at least not in America. Even the supposed Christian guys who act pious are off secretly doing drugs and smoking without their parents knowing.

So I might as well not be “pure” either. At least it would be fair that way.

My mom got really mad when I said that, lol. She said that girls who have sex before marriage are hurting themselves. Why would I want to hurt myself just to seek some sort of justice? There are all sorts of risks, like STDs and pregnancy. And no contraception is 100%. Even women who tie their tubes have stillbirths, which is even worse on their bodies. Not to mention birth control pills have side effects. Why can’t men eat birth control pills, pills that kill their sperm? They should be the ones experiencing the fucking side effects.

The truth is, men and women will never be equal, at least not sexually. We weren’t built equal. Women, like it or not, are baby factories (it makes me mad just to think about it. It makes me want to go on strike and never have a baby. It would spare me the pain, anyway). We have to protect ourselves. Men and women can be equal when it comes to rights and intelligence. But biologically? Who are we trying to fool?

My mom assures me that there are men out there who respect women and choose to abstain from sex until marriage. They’re virgins, but not because they have no other choice. I’m just worried because what if they lie to me? What if they say they’re a virgin but really aren’t? Going back to that whole unfair thing….

I don’t know. I think I just have to wait and see what happens next in my life and not worry too much about whether someone has had sex.

Life is just too difficult. I really don’t want to lower my standards.

Health Update 2

With high school coming to an end, I want to finish strong. I’ve grown very health-conscious lately, especially after finding an awesome medical/health blog and getting my physical examination lab results. I’m healthy right now, but I’ve realized that I could be healthier. Most importantly, I want to maintain my health – for years to come. I’m still not very good with the whole exercising thing (very, very bad actually), but I’m actually not that concerned about it right now. For me, it’s like the icing on the cake (bad analogy for a post about health). My life is by no means sedentary (it’s really pretty active), so getting the chance to regularly exercise is just a bonus. I need to do it in addition to eating healthy and living an otherwise healthy lifestyle, not in lieu of it. With that, here is my update.

Skin: Meh. My skin has not been that great lately, but I don’t think it’s necessarily my doing. I think I just have to wait it out. I’m getting my first facial this Saturday, so hopefully that will help immensely with my congestion problems!

Hygiene: Pretty good. No comment lol.

Sleep: I feel like I get good sleep (enough sleep), but I’m always very groggy in the morning. No idea why. Maybe I need even more sleep?

Body: I went to get a physical on Friday, and in addition to still having 20/20 vision (I’m very proud of this), I’m currently 5 feet 5 and a half inches, and 115.7 pounds. Which I’m honestly okay with. I want to be ~115. Any heavier and I know that I’m not eating healthy. Actually, even at 115.7, I honestly haven’t been eating the healthiest I can. But I feel like 115 is a weight I can maintain. A couple of months ago, when I was exercising and being diligent, I was down to 112 (and I was on my way to being even lighter, but of course I terminated my healthy lifestyle before I had the chance). But the 112-113 range is really difficult for me to stay in because I either stop exercising or start eating a shit ton, usually both. I do eventually want to be one of those runners though. I promise. I’ll get there. One day.

Diet: Let me put it this way: I eat really healthy when I want to. When I make a conscious effort to have a healthy diet, I do, and it feels great. But as soon as I have a craving, I usually give in. Which I need to stop doing. I’m going to try to not do that at all this week (after that, it’s all up in the air because I’ll be in China. There’s no use trying to resist food in China).

Mind: Good, I guess. Sometimes, I get pretty emotional though. I start crying for no reason. I get too overwhelmed by love, I guess. LOL.

Firmly Rooted

Sometimes I worry that I won’t be able to make it on my own in this unforgiving world. I’ve always dreamed of being an independent woman firmly rooted in her beliefs and passions, who is an expert at finding happiness in her own company. But the older and hopefully wiser I’ve become, the more I’ve come to appreciate the people I once thought I didn’t need. This enlightening realization is also what makes me afraid to go out into the polyphonic buzz of human society by myself, with no familiarity, no safety net, no soothing voice to tell me how to fix my life. Is this fear, loneliness, and emptiness what everyone experiences and becomes desensitized to, or are certain people just naturally immune?

Maybe I’m lucky that nothing has ever gone terribly wrong in my life. I’ve been blessed with a healthy family and healthy upbringing. So what will happen when things start falling apart around me? Will I be able to handle it without falling apart myself?

I’ve been contemplating converting to Christianity, even though I’ve believed narrowly in science for almost six years. But lately, I’ve found myself in situations where I’ve had the urge to pray. For myself, my family, for things that are just out of my control. It’s depressing to leave everything up to chance, to coincidences, and to the mundane dryness of science. Fate is what creates that spark in our lives. I think I believe in fate and the power of the universe. I also like the idea that someone is watching over me, protecting me, listening to my prayers, and smiling knowingly every time I make mistakes because they know that each mistake is a lesson. Maybe I don’t believe in the Christian God. But I want to start believing in my own god – my own guardian angel at the very least. I want to start believing that I’m never alone in this world, that I’ll always have someone on my side who sees the bigger picture, whoever they may be. Maybe I’m not so rootless after all.


So beautiful.

“I was always an unusual girl.
My mother told me I had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean…”

Faith Renewed

I have renewed faith in humanity! (Sorry, 3rd post of the day. I promise this is the last one.)

Case 1: I was freaking out today because I couldn’t find my French textbook anywhere. No one seemed to know where it was. I was panicking and almost hyperventilating because I was thinking about paying $100+ for a 200-page tiny textbook. The last time I knew for sure I had it was on Monday, which was TWO DAYS AGO. That’s a long time for a book to be wandering by itself in a 30k-student university. I thought I’d lost it. I thought whoever laid their hands on it would just go and sell it on Ebay and make $100 or something. However, when I retraced my steps from Monday, I came to Sage Hall (the computer area), and saw it resting innocently underneath the Apple mouse. I almost cried from relief. 2 days. In a crowded computer area. Exactly where I had last left it when I used the computer. No one had taken it. No one had even moved it. (Well, maybe it was moved a little, because I don’t remember ever putting it under the mouse.)

Case 2: I’ve been freaking out for the past two days over my college decision.What if I don’t make friends? What if I don’t fit in? What if I suck academically? What if this, what if that? I even vented on College Confidential (I’m so cool). And then today, I saw that another member of the Class of 2018 reached out to me. She called me “amazing” and “genuine.” It made my day. Because even though this doesn’t really guarantee that I’ll have a great time at Wellesley, it at least gave me some reassurance. I made my first Wellesley “friend” today. (I also stalked the other girl and realized that we have much in common! I hope we can be friends.) That was just so nice of her.