I have 15 minutes to tell you what I’d tell my therapist, if I had a therapist, because I’ve had them before sporadically, I just don’t have one now at this point in my life.
And it took me three minutes to formulate that first sentence so I’m doing a bad job right now.
By therapist, I very broadly mean someone you pay to talk to, degreed or not. Because here in Belgium you don’t need any official or specified academic degree to be a therapist. But if I had a therapist to talk to for, now, 7 minutes and counting…I’d say:
Today I’m feeling, overall, misunderstood and defeated, disrespected and devalued. Maybe by one specific person and maybe by more or a mob or maybe because I’m not allowed to feel like everyone else around me because I’m so different, so none of my feelings actually matter to anyone but me. Having left America and its culture to live in Belgium enveloped in its culture while never having fully ever left behind Korea and its culture, makes me different. Life doesn’t stop, your past follows you. It is you. So today, mentally and emotionally and physically too, I’m sore, but I refuse to roll over for anyone. I will not live my life, overall, being misunderstood or defeated or disrespected or devalued. Fuck no.
My brother is getting married in three months and as his sister I have things I must do, as a Korean and as an American-once-a-New Yorker-always-a-New Yorker, and the part of me that is now Belgian too. I return to New York City after a four-year separation.
I carry three identities yet everybody wants me to conform to one boring box. No.
And that’s what I’d tell my therapist, if I had one, today. In about 300 words. Not much for 15 minutes. But enough too.
Because I have too much shit to do, so blogging just has to wait.
Coming up in February though I do have a guest blog in the works.