Liljumper’s Adventures

I never took note of the fact that I was in an interracial relationship. It never even registered on my radar until someone mentioned it to me.

Our differences don’t matter to me and I never even noticed them. But do they matter to others? Do other people see them? And should I?

I don’t think it makes us any different. But our experiences with society are different, very different. There are differences.

I haven’t thought much about this topic, but it has been something I’ve kept in my mind since I was alerted of the fact.

To some people these differences matter and I wonder why.

This post is very short and there are no real answers. Just a question, a thought. I’m sorry it’s not satisfactory or complete, but that’s how a thought for one of these posts begin, with a question, some words on a notepad like this.

Telling people you love them can be the hardest thing. But why? The feelings are real, but there’s sometimes a moment of hesitation.

And why? Maybe because those kind of statements make someone vulnerable. Telling someone you love them makes you vulnerable.

Love is a hard emotion and it’s an emotion that opens you up. It is easier to deny feelings and not tell people how you feel. It’s hardest to tell people you love them, to open yourself up, because we’ve learned that those statements can lead to pain and rejection.

Love can lead to pain, and even though there’s not that much chance of rejection, it can still be painful. You could realize that the feelings you have are not on the same level as their feelings for you, and that hurts.

It is harder to love, you need to accept people, see their mistakes, forgive them, love them. It’s easier to just never forgive, and harder to forgive, knowing the past pain, and the possibility for future pain. Even more, that first pain, that first burn, hurts. Afterwards, perhaps it hurts more, knowing that you fell for it or got yourself into a situation where it could happen again. Trusting afterwards is even harder.

It’s harder to live with an open hand, then a closed fist.

I wouldn’t necessarily say I am a perfectionist. I don’t need to make sure the lines are straight or anything like that. What I do, though, is to expect perfection from the things I do: my grades, cleanliness (to a degree), those types of things. It’s not necessarily about things needing to be perfect, it’s a standard of behavior that I hold myself to.

The easiest way to see this is grades, A is the only thing that I strive for, and anything else is worse. I don’t have this attitude with anyone else, but me. So I never expect this of others or what not. So to a degree, I realize how strange it sounds.

It’s almost as if I expect perfect every time, the first time. This is something I really identified with Felicia Day’s biography, which I basically loved and bought the audiobook and the hard cover and had it shipped to Germany.

I realize how irrational it sounds, where is the learning? the growth? etc.

And to a degree I can understand those, because it’s rational. We need to grow, to change, and to learn. Mistakes are how we learn things. So I do understand.

But it’s taken me a really long time to get to this point, and I still have to say, my first reaction is disappointment. I don’t look at a bad grade or a mistake as a learning experience firstly. I look at it as a personal failure. I had a teacher who said that the grades were learning experiences. And they were. And it was something I had to deal with when I was younger, but I kind of thought I was over that now, matured and wiser now.

But I’ll never be perfect, the first time, or any time. Perfection is a dream, it’s irrational and unrealistic. Yet even as I say this, I know the next bad grade or mistake, I will feel as if it reflects some deep mistake and personal failing.

So all I can say is that to redefine my expectations of myself and my mistakes is a constant every day battle. It requires me to evaluate myself and separate certain actions and mistakes from my character and worth as a human being. You can make mistakes and not be a flawed human being. Human beings make mistakes.

But the mantra I need to repeat is: My mistake does not make me a flawed person.

There is a mistake and there is me and I am not my mistakes, I am the person who learns from her mistakes and does not make them again.

 

I was pretty unhappy overall the past year. It wasn’t a daily everyday thing, but it was a deep unhappiness. It was a year of change and growth, and change involves pain.

Coming back to Munich involved a lot of sadness, to leave home, but also fear, to return back to a place where I had felt unhappy. And there’s a difference between being unhappy about something, and that deep feeling of discontent or unhappiness.

So to combat these feelings, I thought I would approach my return back to Munich differently this time. I know now the way I could feel, and know the things that have made me unhappy.

So to combat my….

immense free time with only class a few times a week, I want to make a list of all the new things and experiences I want to have/do

feelings of isolation, to both make new friends, but have the courage to go off on my own and experience things

I want to live the life I want, not wait for that life to begin

Like I talked about in the last post, I take a long time to process things. In general. Whether it be sadness or upsetness, frustration, emotions in general.

I can be quick to anger and quick to emotion, but that’s not constructive in the way that after I put out the emotion, there isn’t a reason or a point to follow. It would just be an outburst.

But I’m the type of person who needs time to think about my emotions. I used to just explode, and it was bad for me because sometimes I wouldn’t even know why I was upset, but I knew I was. I need the time.

I need the time to come down from the heat of the moment and really think. Really think, how do I feel, what do I want to say, what is at the root of the problem.

It’s inconvenient for a lot of people and for my relationships because I need that time and in the middle of an argument or something I can’t process. I need that time, but also space, to be in my own head and see if something still does bother me, or if it changes shape.

It is frustrating for me as well, but it’s just how I process things in general. For example, it took me a while to figure out that I was being resentful when I moved to Munich. It took me days of processing, being upset, having time to think, and figuring out what was really going on. And that’s just how I seem to function now.

I can get upset or let out emotions right away, and sometimes that does go well, but it makes me uncomfortable. It feels unfinished to me. It feels like I am not prepared, I want to know how I’m feeling, and right in the moment, sometimes I don’t know.

Not everyone is like that, and everyone’s totally different. Other people want to talk immediately and sometimes I wish I could do that.

But ever since I’ve been taking longer to process, I’ve found it’s actually been beneficial, because I’ve realized the root of some of my anger/problems. For example, I’ve realized that it’s not the sink that bothers me, it’s the implication that I have the time to empty the sink and that someone else doesn’t (a different evaluation of the worth of our respective time). And it takes time for me to process why I am upset.

Often when I talk too soon, I regret it, and if there is a conclusion, it might not be the best, or even accurate if I come up with something that is bothering me afterwards, or the root of the problem afterwards.

There’s nothing saying my way is a correct way, but it does seem to be the way that has been working for me so far, and I think that’s important. Before I didn’t and I wasn’t happy with how things were being resolved, but now it’s getting better, and it’s really allowing me the space and patience with myself to learn what things bother me, and what my limits are.

I have immense jetlag. I went to bed at 8ppm here and woke up around 1 am, only to eat McDonalds and then go to sleep again around 5 to 12.

It was a wild night. Filled with tv shows, McDonalds, and sitting on the couch.

But it has made my day very sleepy.

Sleep loss is a strange thing, but it drives you crazy.

Anyway, am jetlagged, so I’m sorry the blog post was a late today!

I am off to clean up around the house after my master unpack yesterday (because I hate going to sleep when I’m still packed)

By the time this posts, this should be post number 218 and that’s so wild to me. I never thought this would be as popular as this has been. But the feedback I have gotten from people have encouraged me to keep this blog going. I have another blog which I have, but I don’t post as regularly because there’s a lack of audience, but for this one, there are so many people! I can see when people have viewed the posts and it’s so nice to know real people I know are reading this!

So thank you for all the support you all give me. Whenever you want to reach out, just write me an email, if you respond to the email the newletters are sent to, it won’t get to me, so it has to be my own personal email. I can read all of the comments, so that’s a good way to get in touch, but if you want to send me something privately, email is the best way. I’ll try to figure out if there’s a way to enable a contact me form or something when I return to Germany.

But thank you again! 🙂

In case anyone was sad or disappointed in the lack of post yesterday, we took a day trip to Watkins Glen and the Corning Glass Museum. It was an all day affair and I had no time to write one before or after. But I should return to the normal posting schedule tomorrow! So never fear 🙂

I return back to Germany Saturday! So very busy getting things done before I go: haircuts, packing, etc.

Support is:

Standing by someone, even if you don’t like what they do, but it makes them happy

Being there for someone no matter what

Seeing something someone would like and snapping a picture to them

Asking someone randomly how they are, just to check in

Writing someone to let them know you are thinking of them

Sharing hobbies, the other person may never understand, just to be able to share something you love

Appreciating people’s limits

A quick chat to say hello

A funny photo when you’re bored

Openness and acceptance to be the most true version of yourself

Like a big nice hug, that you know you can have whenever you want

 

I really like Doctor Who. And if you’ve never seen it, it’s a show about an alien who has a spaceship which is also a time machine. There’s a pretty big rule about not interfering with your own personal timeline and what not, but it makes me wonder (and impacted by my time here at home) what I would change if I could?

Would I be one of those people who tried to change the world and events? Or would I only be interested in myself? What would I do and how would that change me?

Because I do believe in the butterfly effect. What I do would change who I am and the world. Every decision has brought me to where I am today, and any changes might have changed it. I would be somewhere different.

But is that better? Desirable?

If I could time travel, would I tell myself to stop doing something or to change sooner? To be more mindful? To be better?

I do want to be better, but there’s a certain permanence that time travel erases. The actions and decisions we make have a finality. We can’t change it, and we have to move on and go on. Live with the choices we made and move onwards.

Onwards, never backwards.

Time travel is almost an escape, a way out. But it really isn’t.

There is a need to be present, to be aware now that time travel could erase.

I’m not really sure how this ends. But it’s just some thoughts I’ve had.