In classic fairytales, the princess would meet the prince, and through overcoming evil or learning an important life lesson, they would live happily ever after. They’d never have to worry about filing taxes on time, dealing with severe droughts, or even the potential hidden danger of consuming genetically-modified soybeans.
My coming out process was supposed to be the story. In a conservative Chinese family, the protagonist realized the value of truth and self-worth, and risked everything to be himself. Fueled by cultural differences, there was a dramatic clash with his parents but through the power of love, everyone came together, saw past their differences, and learned a valuable life lesson. And like the end of every fairytale, having gone through everything I’m supposed to end up with this new found confidence and everything else in my life should fall neatly into place, including my very own happily ever after ending!
But as it turns out, coming out the closet was only the prologue to my story. TL;DR — I’m a friggin’ homo, now what? Turns out, being a gay man is a lot more than just being attracted to your own gender. If only.
I’ve always loved a perfectly new notebook, ripped with the scent of freshly-cut pages. I especially love the way a new notebook always starts with a blank canvass, ready for someone to dive in and start writing in his or her new masterpiece at a moment’s notice.
I have a lot of these notebooks. Probably no less than a dozen, many of them still have their plastic wrappers around them. Yet the only task they’ve had so far was to sit on my work desk, collecting dust as time goes by.
It’s not that I don’t have anything to write, because I certainly have plenty to say. But when push comes to shove and when my pen is about hit the pages — I back out. I don’t want to ruin this perfectly new notebook with my subpar handwriting, ya know?
Day 92: I’ve driven on the I-5 more times than I can count since moving down to LA two years ago. The best part of this 6-hour drive to/from the Bay is the fact that I can catch up on my never-ending Podcast queue.
Just last night, I was listening to this five-part series on how a t-shirt is made. Sure, I might be driving a straight line down the otherwise dull highway in real life, but in my mind I was travelling around the world, completely captivated by the story of how this seemingly ordinary cotton t-shirt is anything but.
Day 90: Several of my friends have mentioned they like reading my status updates on Facebook/Twitter because of my self-deprecating humor, and that while amusing, the updates also tend to provide a tug to their heartstrings.
I’m not sure where my sense of humor came from. I’d never been inspired by any particular comedian growing up, though I suppose a big part is just how I see the world. There are two sides to any given situation, but sometimes it’s simply better to make fun of the ridiculousness of the situation rather than labeling it as good or bad.
Day 87: I have the utmost respect for teachers. Growing up, I was always that kid who hung out with teachers during recess and lunch. Sure, they taught me what their syllabuses indicated, but it had always been outside the classroom where they truly influenced, inspired, and shaped me into who I am today.
I’m fortunate to be in touch with so many teachers who have since become my friends (not to mention my mentors as I stumble through my adult life), as well as my friends who have since become teachers, inspiring roomfuls of hopefuls of their own.