If you aren't a proud feminist, I don't respect you (that includes you, boys)

OK. So, most of you reading this are highly educated and well-versed in social/political discourse about feminism and equal rights. You're actually probably more widely-read and in the know than I am (honestly, I suck at keeping up with lingo and theoretical nuances). Although, I can't shed light on any of the subtleties of feminism like many of you can, I wanted to write an opinion piece on the topic because I realised I have a lot of connections to people who may not fully grasp how important this issue is to not only me, but all of the girls around them. Yes, that includes your girl-mates who on-the-surface are "too cool" for feminist propaganda. They do care, secretly. Or - at least, they should.

Firstly, feminist is NOT an ugly word. Feminism = equality of the sexes. I once had a conversation with a group of men (boys) who said that if a girl was too "flashy" or "combative" with her feminist views, they would automatically brush/avoid her. OK. I get it, it gets repetitive (as ANY topic of conversation does after a while) - but boys, don't you see that it's substantially more repetitive/annoying to you because IT DOESN'T PERSONALLY AFFECT YOU? Like, definitely understand that you probably feel a little helpless and targeted, but honestly, you presuming that any 'feminist propaganda' is a direct insult to you is honestly a reflection of the self-importance this world has fed your entire gender. OK, that was a little aggressive of me but maybe I am appealing to the women reading this who are braver than me on a daily basis. Ladies, I see your posts, and I love them. You've inspired me to speak up against my strategically curated, young-girl, yeah-i'm-cool-with-the-boys, 'laid back' demeanour and actually say something about an issue I know will continue to be beautifully revolutionised in my generation.

I'm lucky to be in a country where I can choose a career-path that is male-dominated with ease. I am so proud to know that more women are proportionately qualifying as doctors every year in this country than men. I'm not, however, as chuffed to know that we hold a dismal proportion of the authority positions in the field. But, hey, that's changing. It's changing in medicine, but it's not changing in a lot of other places where my female friends are trying to enter and make their mark. Furthermore, I'm not sure if it's changing sustainably in all sectors of our industries, including my own.

By 'sustainably' I mean that women are gaining power more often in the guise of playing the career-game like men. By my own reasoning, this suggests that the game is still systematically and strictly in the hands of men. We are being more aggressive, taking-no-shit and hiding many of the other emotional facets of our female-identifying selves to get a leg up. Yes, that was a gross oversimplification of what's going on in each and every one of our workplaces, but it rings true in many ways.

I know the argument for this mindset is that logical, no-bullshit, cool-tempered, reasoned business-sense and work ethic has shown ample success in the past for men. As a species we've built cities, multi-national corporations, endless technological innovations and a tonne of things my own singular brain cannot even fathom. I, however, like to think that the world has room for female intuitiveness and passion. It has a place for non-traditional approaches to problems that have been dealt with at a 'satisfactory' level for centuries that could be made better.

My own personally thought up example is in health, whereby much of the care provided, especially at end-of-life and in addiction/psychiatric settings is still highly impersonal and clinical. No bullshit. Systematic. Safe. I, however, spoke to an addiction physician (funnily enough, a man) who believed that it was the creative, non-systematic, unable-to-be-quanitifed, personal therapies that he saw as anecdotally helping his patients the most. I thought about this, and although this is highly stereotyped, I could clearly see such services and programs being designed and superbly executed by my female peers. Although I do not doubt my male peers are very well equipped to lead the charge in making healthcare more holistic, I honestly and resoundingly think that most of the men I see as able to make waves in these settings are able to because of the positive influence of WOMEN in their life.

Yes, that's how influential I think women are.

Anyway, my main reason for this article was to get angry-boys (baited by the title) and curious-women to have a leisurely read and take the time to reflect on their personal views on feminism.

I am an proud intersectional feminist. I am proud to associate myself with other wonderful feminists (most likely including you).

I hope you feel proud to.

Keep on keeping on.

Love, M.

The sunny side of being single (and possibly ready to mingle)

Sitting alone in bed on a Saturday night was not the moment I envisioned I would vividly come to understand that I'm doing a really good job of mending myself and thriving - yet, somehow this is where I'm at and I'm not at all disappointed. The screenshotted list above is an iPhone note I wrote a week after I was broken up with last year and holy moly when I opened the old, forgotten note on my iCloud this evening I literally shed a tear. Yeah that's absolutely sappy and totally self-indulgent but I did. I am so proud and excited to have an awareness of this feeling of accomplishment that I've earned.

I remember sincerely sobbing writing that list, thinking over-and-over, 'these things will make me so distracted I won't even worry about being single and missing him'. That was not entirely true, and heck, for the first few months I thought those things weren't really doing anything at all... but look where I am now? Look how many recpies I've churned out, the extra 20 push ups I can do in a row, not to mention the truly supportive university relationships I've managed to forge. I took myself out of the deep pit I described in an early blog and Bruce Wayne'd the shit out of my heartbreak prison (See! I can even reference Batman - his favourite hero - without wanting to cry sappy, awful, longing tears).

I've got a deeper knowledge of my strength and resilience now that I've done all this. Look, I'm not trying to insult anyone who's currently in a relationship (or is a serial relationshipper.... guuiiiiilltyyyy) - I'm merely writing this because I know heartbreak happens to almost everyone at some point. No matter how many times you hear the phrase "it gets better" in those acute weeks of ABSOLUTE fear for your seemingly inevitable life-long loneliness and years of pining over your lost love.... it doesn't feel real or make it hurt any less. I just hope someone can read this and be like 'damn, I know exactly what she means' and that this journey I'm taking from being broken to being OK helps them forgive themselves for falling into all the traps of reminiscence and feeling like they're not doing enough to move on.

I didn't feel like I was doing enough - but now I know I was. I know I am after reading that list and re-imagining what I felt like on the day I wrote it. Looking back, I am stronger in more ways than one.

So? The sunny side of singledom? As cliched as it sounds, it's meeting people. When you're single, there's this abstract freedom in getting to know someone - like - there's the possibility for adventure and spontaneous passion that you unknowingly end up forgoing when you're in a loving, wholesome relationship. I'm not saying it's better or worse, I'm just saying it's good.

I mean, it's fun to have a cheeky chat with the cute bartender and find out he's an aspiring actor who moved here from a small country town. It's nice to tell someone about yourself who knows nothing about you, hoping maybe you might click on a deeper level than just acquaintances. Maybe even best friends? When you're in that bubble of a relationship it feels like you already have your whole world and everyone else becomes a little less bright, colourful and enticing. We don't mean for it to be that way, it just is. I'm just happy that right now I'm okay not knowing. 

I'm comfortable with being unsure where to channel my love, hope and adoration. I have freedom to channel it into the things that might make me more balanced, more confident and less reliant on assuring words from that loved-person I so often crave. 

I am not debilitatingly insecure right now. I am just your average amount of young-20's female insecure and I could not be more proud.

To all my single and frustrated friends: work towards loving your loneliness, it'll start feeling less lonely if you do. This is like my #fitnesstransformation, but instead of a new body, I'm getting a new mindset. So far, the progress is pretty damn satisfying.

- Mielzy

A post about F*ckboys/gals (and how they just aren't the one)

Look. I might be a bit nosy at times, and mostly i'm either (a) inebriated and unhinged, or (b) sincerely concerned about your pressing issue with that person who won't 'define the relationship' (a.k.a. DTR-phobe), is consistently leaving you on "read" (a.k.a. the archiver) or 'only texts you on weekends' (a.k.a. douche-bag).

But, I'm not concerned as a person in a position of superiority, I'm concerned as a person who has been there with likeminded people and is sick of the bullsh#t too. Honey, I FEEL YA. Well, not presently since I'm unashamedly uninvolved but regardless, I have experienced the wrath of the f*ckboy.

Alright, ya da ya da ya da "nothing good comes easy", they say, "it's all about the chase"... sure. But the chase shouldn't go for 6 months and include 5 very-real, very-tormenting months of embarrassment when anyone asks "well, what are you?" when you giggle and say "he/she's just not ready for commitment at the moment".

Really? You'll let them have that?

If you guys are just casual - and you're fine with that - sick. You go for it. It's a liberating arrangement and can actually be fun, exploratory and super chill. Let your goddamn freak flag fly as high as you can hoist it if that's what wavelength you're on. I'm serious. Serial monogamy isn't for everyone, and sometimes you just want a selection of petit fours instead of the goopy, warm - albeit delicious - sticky date pudding. Especially when you've just eaten sticky date pudding for 2 years and are now in a perpetual state of over-eating discomfort (did I take that metaphor about casual flings and long-term relationships too far??)

Anyway, if you're not fine with casual and are pretending to be fine with it (which I know is super common because I've done it multiple times, and know other girls who have too) - then, here's the big 'ol fix-all tablet for you to swallow: let them know. Like... for real. Challenge them into explaining themselves. You are all too wonderful and all too caring for them if they won't give you an answer as to why they won't proclaim to everyone that you're theirs.

You deserve that, regardless of your level of comfort when it comes to PDA and/or cheesiness. You might not want proclamation and yelling from rooftops, but I've got a feeling you probably want some kind of security - right? Well, duh. I know you do. You probably wouldn't be reading into this further than the part when I said: "If you guys are just casual - and you're fine with that - sick."

Yeah, gotcha.

I saw this lame-ass insta post the other day that read: "may your first love last forever p.s. you are your first love, take care of yourself". I won't dwell on those sentiments any more (since it's the theme of this ENTIRE blog), but as lame as it is - it's true. I suggested that you give the f*ckboy/girl that ultimatum because you deserve to either be loved/cared for by someone who is proud of you, or at least deserve to have the attention-span and time to really attempt to work on that wretched task of loving yourself.

That's all I'm gonna say. If you've read this and feel personally attacked (sorry), just know I'm being the big-sister you never had. You're likely a dynamic, intensely passionate and curious person. Don't let f*ckboys and f*ckgirls dampen your ability to thrive. Take that precious time for yourself.

There will be a person that won't need 'f*ck-' to prefix their name when you think about them.

They will choose you.

Well I hope they do, because one day I hope I stumble upon mine too.

Love yas.

x M

You can’t big-spoon yourself (and other battles of being single)

There’s a reason Lorde’s new album is such a banger, and it’s highly due to the fact that her melodies are catchy, yet also due to the vulnerable sentimentality of her lyrics. Look, I know it’s such a passé thing to do… every single person eventually will take an emotional ride on the tsunami of a music artist’s work (it’s kind of the point) but honestly, I had to give the lady credit for some seriously raw and beautiful stuff. 

In the killer track Hard Feelings/Loveless, Lorde chimes “It’s time to let go of this endless summer afternoon”… and when I heard that, I immediately felt a huge pang in my chest. Why though? I’d made all this progress on the path of self-love and moving on but it still hurt me to think the endless summer afternoon had an end-point. What? Girl, we’ve been through this before – it HAS ended. You. Are. Not. In. Love. Anymore. Then I realised.

I hadn’t truly let go of the fact that “he” somehow still loved me. This stems from this phenomenon I’ve encountered through social anecdotes of love and loss when people can look back on a lost-love and feel a sense of gratitude and optimism. The oh-so-hopeful “I loved him, and he loved me, and hell yeah, we could’ve loved each other forever but the timing was just all wrong” type anecdote we imagine old people rattle off with a wistful look in their eyes. I had this ambitious impression that I could manifest this distant romanticism that belonged to my future-self straight away. I had the belief that it wouldn’t be damaging to do so, but I was wrong.

I was still coddling myself with the belief that this person who said goodbye was going to spend a lengthy time pining over me, and that somehow, the forces of the world could bring us back together by chance if it just so happened to be. In a sense, I really hadn’t let go of him as an object of love. I just pushed him aside to somewhere in my heart, thinking, “people always have a spot in their heart for people they once loved”. They do. Not straight away though. 

Definitely not 6 months after that person broke them into pieces.

Moving forward in the wrong direction – and forgiving yourself for that – is a big part of the process of reform. I’ve looked into what went wrong for me and realise that my incapacity to truly, truly let go of this (and likely any) major love are due to 3 main battles with myself:

1. I am fixated on the idea of constantly and always being the object of another person’s romantic love

2. I struggle to live day-to-day in a life void of romantic affection (including affectionate thoughts and memories)… ya girl just wants a good, meaningful spoon. Y’all know what it’s like.

3. I’m truly unable to see myself thriving as a single entity in this crazy journey through life

I was going to expand on these, but truthfully, I think they speak for themselves. My general belief in love conquering all still stands, but I feel now more than ever that I can’t let it restrain me through the aforesaid mechanisms. 

Therefore, I should - and will - be fine knowing not a single person in the world holds romantic love for me.

I should - and will – be able to get through the painstaking responsibilities of being human without wrapping myself in someone else’s love.

And lastly, I should - and will - realise that being in a partnership should not define my life’s course.

I should. And despite every emotional obstacle entrenched directly in my way – I know. 


I know that eventually, I will. 

x M

Progress post (on my heart, not my abs, unfortunately)

It looks like almost half a year has gone by since I was acutely heartbroken and started writing about it - so, what do I have to show for it?

Not long ago, a distant friend of mine reached out about her own very recent heartbreak, and even though I don't know her that well - or even for very long - the way her voice sounded was so familiar. It was that devastating mix of desperation, shock, fear and intangible longing. She was right at the beginning her repair journey, unsure of whether she could muster the cojones to climb out of the deep well she found herself in. I told her she would. Everyone does, it's just a matter of time.

I do not claim to have made a gigantic leap, nor am I going to prematurely say I've wholeheartedly moved on from the hurt that encompassed me 24 weeks ago. I'm still in a transitional stage and I don't quite know how long I'll be here or whether I even know what course is coming next in this emotional degustation.

My progress is realising that I'm 22 and my entire life I've been in love with the idea of other people, but never the idea of myself. My progress is also realising that I'm not alone in this dilemma. I was listening to the lovely artist Lorde's new album (fab), and there's this song called 'liability' that honestly ripped at my poor ol' heartstrings. I go into most of my friendships/relationships believing I have nothing to offer the other person - or even more severely, I am a burden to that person.

I know this sounds like a cry for help/obvious call for validation, but it isn't. I know there are people in my life who appreciate my friendship... but none of that means I am able to effectively convert that to a self-knowledge of my own value. I continue to fear there's this undefined "something" I will do wrong that will cause me to lose everything. I know a lot of you out there who have experienced anxiety might feel this way, or have once felt this way, too. That's why I continue to write.

This means that I am obnoxiously paranoid about the likelihood for other people to impress and serve my loved ones to a better capacity than I can. I know in the past that this has manifested itself as jealousy, which has been to the detriment to my romantic relationships and even some friendships. I am scared of not being wanted so often that it's kind of debilitating (regardless of how I look on the surface).

This breakup served me in the sense that it brought all these issues to the surface. As a single girl, I'm not allowed to seek minute-by-minute validation from my 'it' person to tell me that I'm an alright human being when I need it. I can't leech of their love for me to fill a confusing void of self-worth. I need to find that self-worth, and although this process will be arduous and self-involved, it needs to be meaningful and far-removed from any kind of superficial measures that have thus far worked only to deplete it.

I need to stop asking myself what I'm doing wrong and learn to focus on what I have done right to have gotten me to this point. It's not just me though, we all need to do this. I see a lot of people around me who are undoubtedly already SO successful and resilient who constantly tell themselves they could have more or do better.

What is wrong with that mindset is the baseline you're comparing to. If it's yourself - fine. One single mark more on a university task should fulfil that 'do better' principle. Having more energy because of an extra hour of sleep is already a big tick on that 'have more' checklist. The problem lies when you start to involve others' progress in evaluating your own. I am a major culprit of this and it's probably a huge part of why my anxiety was exacerbated in the selective school system. Although academically I've grown a lot since then, socially, my comparison reflex is still in overdrive.

This is where I've made the most progress. Whilst I continue to reflexively compare, it's no where near as bad as it used to be. It's a matter of seeing someones travel photo and being mindful that I should feel wonder and intrigue rather than immediately rush to question whether I'm doing enough with my life (I call it the FOMO effect - seriously, this has happened distinctly on COUNTLESS occasions). It's finishing a test that was hard - yet feeling like I've passed - and not being emotionally affected by that ONE person who said it "wasn't bad at all". It's seeing love manifested in PDA and not obsessively wondering why they're so lucky and instead realising that my own timeline is unique and I can't just force love to happen.

Hopefully an accumulation of these things will help me understand that I'm an alright human being without a partner. Hopefully they make me realise that a life on my own - albeit unwanted - would be interesting, dynamic and absolutely survivable (if not great).

And if that someone does come along, hopefully it means I can accept their love without questioning whether they will leave if something better comes along.

I guess it's just a matter of time.

x M

Today I didn't wake up okay (but this is not the only time)

Last night I had a vivid dream about blurred vision and shaky hands. I had a dream where everyone around me was moving on, happy and secure and I was stagnant; lonely; still. I used to have these dreams very often - but then I sought help - and now they're a lot less frequent and a lot less suffocatingly realistic. But the annoying thing is, they still exist. They still make me want to be alone and safe in my own little cave where no one can taunt me or make me jealous.

I am in bed. I just woke up and it's 12:53 PM and I feel horrible. I feel like I wasted my morning because I was too lazy to get up and do things. I was too scared to wake up and face the day. I never used to admit that, but hey... here I am admitting it. Step one.

I know my mind is playing tricks on me, but I can't help but feel like I'm weak for letting it. Weak. Ugh - what a yucky, sad little word. But everyone with anxiety knows that word. There's a consistency in this disease that doesn't ever really fade or go away. If you convince yourself you're not weak, you worry that other people know it's all a facade. "She's really just faking it", you hear them think (yes you can hear people think), "she actually isn't cut out for this." Cut out for what? you ask... everything. I wake up most days with a very real version of impostor syndrome.

When my psychologist first told me about this phenomenon - or 'fraud syndrome' - I had difficulty placing myself in its confines. What? According to Wikipedia - "Despite external evidence of their competence, those exhibiting the syndrome remain convinced that they are frauds and do not deserve the success they have achieved." I know I work hard. I said to them. I wanted to dismiss that I could be described as someone who was avoidant, ignorant even. 

Avoidance was the key. My life, as many others with anxiety, is avoiding being put on the spot. Avoidance of someone realising how little worth we have in the grand scheme of things. Competence, knowledge, security - those are all things that are so intangible to me oftentimes I want to give up on it completely. But I won't. It's 1:06 PM and I'm going to do things with my day. 

I wrote this because I was scared of starting the email to my M.D. tutor about how I haven't submitted my ethics and I need help (because it's hard and I don't know how to do it). I wrote this because I felt like if I didn't, I'd fall back asleep and try to avoid it for 1 more day. I wrote this because although sometimes I can look fearless and strong - like I've overcome my mental illness - I sometimes am not, and that to me doesn't feel ok. 

But I am awake, breathing. I have love around me and a pretty wicked mind that can accomplish amazing things.

I can do this. 

You can do this.

Let's go.

x M

Why it's important to remember that success doesn't equate to worthiness (or happiness, for that matter)

Growing up, I always thought the person with all the awards and formal acclaim for their hard work was the person that knew the most and was getting the most out of life. I carried that belief with me through school, and it essentially dictated my entire interaction with the greater world. I convinced myself into believing that the people who accumulated great and glamourous achievement were somehow happier than all of us too.

Without diminishing the incredible feats of determination it takes to get tangible proof of your success (degrees, job offers, awards, widespread social approval), I want to consciously disassociate myself from this school of thought. Look, there's no denying that someone with a PhD is intellectually commendable and undoubtedly has a vast rage of insights into their field. Yet, their PhD shouldn't make them any more or less worthy of my internal praise or admiration than the person who has no qualification whatsoever.

I am a major culprit of the conversational "what do you do?". Well, what do we do? In my idealistic heart I'd love to say we all dream, explore, love, take risks and inspire others - but instead, I'm succumbing to the social idea that people should be well-defined by what they can say they do on paper. It's not a habit I will fall out of easily, and honestly I'm not sure I ever will - because sometimes it's simply a little less awkward to ask "what is your job?" rather than "what breathes life into you? what are your passions?"

So, what are they? What do you want to accomplish in this 90 years of life you might have?

I was watching a TEDx talk called "Am I dying? The honest answer" by an emergency medical technician in the states. He denoted that there are 3 salient trends in the type of things people acutely focus on in their final minutes of life:

1. They ask for forgiveness because of built-up guilt or regret

2. They ask to be remembered or hope to be remembered
3. They wish to know whether their life was meaningful

I, being a very-young, very-inexperienced life-liver have written myself a few valuable reflections on this topic that will hopefully mean I will continue to grow personally in terms of self-worth (which I - along with many others - struggle with on a regular basis, albeit subconsciously) and general self-fulfilment or 'self actualisation' (...my inner psych major couldn't help but reference Maslow, sorry).

Celebrate the little wins. Any regret in my life thus far has often been the result of chasing after the next goal before truly understanding how well-earned the previous one was. It's meant a little less time spent relaxing and countless missed moments of true life-giving satisfaction. Inevitably, my self-worth has suffered. Say you get a promotion at work - don't let the next thing you do be an automatic, demoralising comparison of your promotion to your faux-friend from high-school's engagement or their downpayment on a home. Think to yourself: 'fuck yeah I did a great thing'. Go and do something you really love and indulge in the fact that you are powerful, hard-working and awesome. 

Don't have too much pride. I often suffer from the capacity to be easily hurt by people even when they don't mean to be hurtful. I will then automatically project that they've somehow insulted the very basis of my character and move forward in my interactions with them with an unrelenting bias that clouds my capacity to truly understand who they are and where they're coming from. I need to work on that, but hey, maybe we all do.

Remember that theoretically your legacy will continue existing indefinitely either in writing (0.00001%) or through the way people remember you (more likely), so value your relationships as much as you value your measured triumphs. I throw around the word love on this blog like bloody confetti but honestly it's because the way I see it - love is the basis of most meaningful things that happen in life. And no, I don't just mean romantic love - I mean love in the way that one person deeply cares about the other person's passions, understands what they want out of life, and is there to listen when listening is needed. 

Anyway, I just wanted to share my thoughts because they've made me feel quite excited for the countless years of life I am yet to live.

Oh, that's another one - I always used to say 'you're running out of time' to myself, basically about everything. Who is timing this figurative stopwatch? So here's my big cringe-worthy sentiment of this post: you are the master of your milestone timeline.

Personalise it, stretch it out, publicise it if you wish - but, don't live by it. There's more to you than a collection of milestones.

xoxo

Your friendly neighbourhood cliché machine -
Mielz

"But you don't look that Asian" & other struggles of being a culturally ambiguous girl

Ok, so unrelated little intro, but this past Friday I went to Adele (amazing) and sat alone. It was a journey I did not expect to make, but one I deeply value. I felt pretty much every single human emotion within that two hours and it was extraordinarily eyeopening and deeply gratifying. I just had to share that, and also remind myself (and you guys I guess) that I should go see music artists, visit art galleries and indulge in community events well and truly as an independent person more often.

Note to self: explore the arts independently, it's hella fun and oftentimes pleasantly insightful.

Ok, so back to my clickbait title (lol). I am Asian. Yes. South-East Asian - Filipino to be exact. Cool, so now we've established that - I feel it's necessary for me to give a little bit more context. I was born in Australia and have spent my entire life living in Australia. I do not speak any other language other than English (unfortunately) and I haven't been to the Philippines since I was 12 years old. I grew up in Penrith NSW (predominantly caucasian) yet attended a selective high school (predominantly Asian). All facts.

Ok, so this post is going to inevitably delve into dating (I tend to channel Carrie Bradshaw when I sit here typing), but it's one of those confusing ones where I don't really know what the point of this particular post is. Regardless, my brain has no intention of letting me sleep and I have every intention of sharing my thoughts with the world - so, here goes: I have only ever been in interracial relationships (BOOM). Yep. This is fact. Yet, a fact that I did not forge or premeditate... just one that happens to be.

I have not dated a Filipino boy (despite that being the go-to for a lot of my Filipino acquaintances) and there is no particular reason for that. Ok that's not true. Here are some hypotheses that I have come up with that are the root of my culturally ambiguous purgatory
1. I didn't grow up with Filipino pals. Nope. I guess I had a few family friends, but then I went to my predominantly Caucasian primary school straight to my predominantly Asian (Chinese, Indian, Korean, Vietnamese) high school. So, where would I meet said boys except at family events (who are mostly cousins)?
2. Whenever I did by chance start a friendship/flirtation with a Filipino boy, him (and all his friends/family???) would consistently comment on how tall I was. YES. This is actually a thing. I know I am tall but it gets uncomfortable when it's all people say. Then I get all insecure and sh#t because it's like, why would they be interested in me - the behemoth - etc etc. and consequently project that insecurity onto all situations
3. My mix-matched upbringing has made me into a person so culturally different from traditionally Filipino groups that I cannot seem to feasibly bridge that gap in values or lifestyle. Furthermore, I don't look Filipino according to a lot of people, including FIlipinos. I don't know whether I'm imagining it but somehow I feel like there is a valid point in this idea somewhere I just can't quite express it verbally, so if you understand - yay, and if you don't - please disregard.
4. My family is not exactly heavily involved in any Filipino groups or activities. And, with family being such a huge influence on me, I feel like I just took that relaxed attitude as well and never really took the train to Filipino-populated areas to hang out in shopping centres and just like flag down new friends

Ok. So, I would date a Filipino boy. But it's hard because I don't know any - so, I have since (it's been years of this) broadened my horizons. I check out people of all cultures (no joke) and have harboured crushes on the most culturally diverse people, but somehow I'm always left with the same problem/persisting doubt: would they be interested in someone like me?

Alright so everyone has that doubt... I know. And, I also know that I'm not special with being culturally ambiguous in Australia because it's such a great, multicultural country but man if you understand my feels right now THANK GOD because it's legitimately so tiring being worried all the time and constantly second-guessing myself. My underlying thought (and overriding worry when writing this post was this):

If you're comfortable in your skin, then you should just be satisfied and confident that you - no matter your racial appearance - will be attractive to others

There are (2) major issues with this thought
1. Am not entirely confident in own skin due to various sociocultural and emotional reasons
2. I reject that culture/race and upbringing does not have an impact on who you're attracted to

Let me expand on 2. I have been the girlfriend of a boy who only dates Asians. Yes, and I knew this going into that relationship (despite it being strange to me, I eventually just realised it was a personal preference thing rather than that other problematic submissive vs. dominant fetishisation situation often referred to in cultural discourse). I have met countless white men who have explicitly told me they like "blondes", or "brunettes" or "girls with blue eyes" etc. (I mean, there are no other categories, right?). The closest I get to feeling attractive in many social situations is when someone says "I have had a stint of yellow fever before" and this is a cause of concern.

But then, I also feel awkward about that because most Caucasian people I know also tell me I don't look Asian. So, does yellow fever even apply to me??? It's all too confusing. I am tired just thinking about it. Am I anyone's type? SHOULD I CARE? I probably shouldn't but hey I wrote this so I obviously do.

Ok it's midnight, I need to sleep. If you're a brown girl/racially ambiguous girl like myself and wanna vent tho pleeeeease HMU for coffee because I am looking for a mate who understands what I'm talking about and can give me validation hugs + words of advice.

Night loves,

Mielzy x

Why I'm choosing to remain optimistic even when it seems so uncool

I wrote a poem about my broken heart the other day (above) and posted it to instagram after a gruelling mental debate on whether it was tacky and well... just a downright shit idea. It turned out it wasn't and I'm super glad I mustered up the courage to post such an intimate, mundane and oddly significant piece of myself online. This blog post isn't just in reference to internet sharing - even though I am ecstatic to be seeing fellow friends putting their wonderful selves out there with their art/writing/photos/opinions (I thoroughly enjoy venturing inside a mind other than my own once in a while) - I'm writing about why I had to question myself and my motives in the first place.

I questioned myself because in the past I've been teased, belittled and singled out for being a "try hard", "hopeless" and "naive". I am all of those things, some of the time. I know this now, and after doing a bit of adulting I'm actually seeing how all those insults actually helped create a version of me that I don't want to dampen or let go of. I am oftentimes judged by the fact that I don't keep much of what I'm thinking to myself, that I post too much, or I say how I feel too easily.

It makes me think of how I approach people - friends, men, acquaintances (anyone, really). Actually, I wasn't planning to admit this anecdote online - but it just came to mind and it nicely summates the kind of thing I'm talking about. A couple of years ago, my sister - being an overly-protective, curious older-female figure in my life decided she needed to monitor my "texting habits" to the people I was dating. Her reasoning: 'you're too excitable, you give too much away'. I took this as an insult (I'm sensitive, I know). I just want to talk to guys the way I talk to everyone, I said. 'You've got to play the game,' she replied. I remember distinctly thinking, the person I'll really want won't play the game either.

Whoa settle girl, you say, cringing. I know - who is that optimistic in the dating world?? Oh, he took 2 minutes to reply? You should wait four. Or seven. But, who's counting?

I decided I wouldn't. I really didn't want to (couldn't be bothered to?) subscribe to that confusing tangle of mindgames and cynicism. I believe that if someone wanted to be in my life, they would. They wouldn't want to make me feel as though I had to wait an hour because I would apparently seem too eager. I decided to be optimistic about the fact that someone out there felt that way too. And, If you're planning to crush my dreams and tell me 'a little of the hard to get game won't hurt', I understand. You're trying to save me from making a fool of myself because you know from experience - and you're right in many ways. But hey, I've been a fool too (trust me), yet somehow this hopeless idealism has brought me real love before - and although the last stint didn't quite last the forever I hoped it would, I'm not backing down anytime soon.

This applies to a whole lot of other stuff too - like when people ask (and I absolutely hate this one): "why are you so passionate about 'x' when in reality your contribution to the cause probably won't do much?". This apathy is something I feel like truly optimistic people can't stomach. I know, I sound like a nut when I cheesily reply with bs like 'every little step in the path of progress helps'... I choke on my words when I say them out loud - but, in reality I actually, honestly and resoundingly mean it.

I wish I could have more of an impact on the world (here's me dreaming that one day I actually might) - and me putting my hat in the ring at the barely-qualified age of 22 is ambitious to say the least. Yet, I hope to stay positive. I endeavour to put my hand up to be ever-present, ever-sharing and sometimes overexposed because our generation has so much (so much!) freedom to discuss and generate awareness and change.

We've gotta believe our own passion, and really genuinely convincingly have faith in it for it to come across to others.

Here is me openly choosing to remain hopeful and romantic about all things cliché like love, equality, peace and happiness!

Here is me hoping you choose to, too.


♡ Mielz

What is love? (baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more)

Since I've been writing these blogs, people from all over my life have been asking me questions about relationships and love (and giving me much appreciated validation, haha thanks guys). My general response is - "don't ask me, I still have no idea how you know it's going to work. If I did, I'm not sure I'd willingly be in this position." What position, you ask? I'm sure you know by now. Heartbroken, insecure and unsure of what the f*$% I'm gonna do with all this goddamn affection and love I have been fostering within me since before I can remember.

All this goddamn love for a person I currently don't even know exists.

I wasn't inspired to write tonight by any bout of sadness or resentment, but rather was motivated by the sadness of close people around me in the lead up to the supposedly-joyous occasion of Valentines Day. Funnily enough, I'm not affected by it this year (because I don't see it as an entirely genuine holiday, but that's my own opinion) and I just wanted to have a crack at looking at why I feel so attached to this concept of a future monogamous relationship.

It's crazy for me to say I'm maintaining a love for someone who is essentially hypothetical at this point in time - but let's be real... there's more than a handful of young women and men out there that know exactly what I mean. I honestly don't need to love right now. I don't feel like each day I'm constantly searching for "him". But I am optimistic. I know that eventually I'll naturally find myself back wanting to have that exhilarating feeling of being vulnerable but comfortable and secure at the same time. It's that paradox we search for that makes the love feel real - the assuredness is paramount, but so is the helplessness. It's not a yucky or demoralising kind of helplessness though - it's not really 'helplessness' at all. I like to think it's the part of love we oftentimes like to call infatuation. Here - let me explain:

Infatuation is helpless in the way that you can't help but want more of them. Helpless regarding the inevitable jealousies that might sometimes (or often) plague your mind, regardless of whether you voice them or not. It's helplessly hoping they are considering you in their future plans and helplessly thinking of them when momentous things happen. It's being unable to help yourself from fondly branding their little quirks, mannerisms and the sheer sensation of their presence in your mind. It's a helpless feeling of sickness when they're not around for long enough, and a similarly helpless feeling of ecstasy when they return.

Those are some of the things that make love for me - for all of us. Yet, of course, what I just described wasn't love but rather infatuation. Love is that, plus stability; commitment - choice. That is the kind of love I'm holding out for. The combo.

Anyway, this started out writing this as a kind of expose on 'how love changes you' but decided to reroute it because I suddenly realised that my relationships have changed me in such complex ways I couldn't even begin to ascertain any kind of definitive list. One thing I know for sure is that the years of being in love, convincing myself I'm in love and dating duds to find love have helped me figure out what love is. Well, at least what it is to me.

I freaked out earlier that writing this series of self-concerned heartbreak blogs would make everyone in my life reject me as some crazy-overbearing man-obsessed human that can't regulate her feelings. And hey, maybe it will.

But I'm willing to do that because I know some valuable people understand where I'm coming from and want to know someone out there is thinking what they're thinking too. Happy valentines day to you guys, here's me appreciating your pent up love for your future hypothetical partner.

We're in this crazy world together.

It'll be alright.

xxx

Why being single makes me feel so insecure (and why I should probably be single for a while)

While I was travelling, I started drafting a blog on our generation's values. It was kind of like this social commentary on being 20-something in an inevitable world of social media and the toxic new '#goals' that we have thereupon laid out for our bright, bold lives. Unfortunately, that drafted piece spiralled into bitterness. See, I'm not usually a bitter person (and it actually really disheartened me when I realised what had become the basis of my writing) - but, something about the subject matter really hit a nerve with me. So I scrapped it, and I'm here instead writing about the emotions involved in the process.

The prior piece on our generation's values quite carelessly (hypocritically) criticised the seemingly consumption-driven, travel-fuelled, spontaneous lifestyles of my peers. It criticised them because I was angry. I was angry at my ex boyfriend for leaving me to 'better' his life with travel, new people and new opportunities. I was angry because in my own mind I could not even hold a light to the spectacular, adventurous people he was so desperately craving to meet. I was not a bohemian nomad with nowhere to be and all of the world to see. Not at all.

Instead, I am a 21-year-old girl with anxiety who freaks out when her train connections have an interval of less than 5 minutes.

I am not carefree, nor am I entirely spontaneous. I like to see new places, and experience new people and moments... but I also like being grounded, safe - secure. I like home. I like Sydney and my beautiful, caring and extensive emotional support network. I like knowing roughly where I'll be in 5 years. I like that, it's not a lie. I decided on my career at four years old, I'm starting to think it's just a part of who I am.

I liked being lazy with my boyfriend and eating Halal Snack Packs at 2AM. I liked not having to constantly analyse or worry how pretty I was, because I already had someone who adored me even when I've just woken up (I do not look nice at all when I wake up, trust me, it's like a scene from Where the Wild Things are). I liked having someone to share my little anxieties with on an hourly basis. I liked knowing someone was proud of me for trying. I liked knowing I was enough.

Now that I'm single, I could eat a Halal Snack Pack at 2AM but then I'd feel horrible for fattening myself up when I've got no 'safety net' anymore. Gross thought, but it's true, and I know girls out there feel the pain too. I shouldn't have to feel pressured to be thin to attract male attention, but the truth is that more of that attention that many of us secretly adore comes when we are this thin ideal. How can I not convince myself that it's important? My mind knows it isn't, but my irrational insecurities don't.

Therefore, it's hard for me to think I'm at all enough. I know countless motivational Instagram posts tell us to value our integrity and brains over the mainstream idea of beauty - but even more social media posts celebrate it. They celebrate the girl who is toned, boho and seemingly secure. So, on social media, I emanate that girl. Yet - as I said before - I am not that girl. Parts of me have affairs with her spirit - nights out, holidays, festivals - but mostly, I'm just average ol' me, literally sitting in a Kmart shirt and 3-year-old undies with my dog on my lap trying to make sense of who I am and how I will survive this year single.

I make the statement that I should probably be single for a while for 2 main reasons:
1) I would like to really figure out how to feel pretty and enough without male affirmation
2) I would like to see how strong I can be on my own, because right now I feel pretty damn weak

Look, I am a classic maker of grand statements. I can't say what my love life will be in the near future, but I definitely don't think my soulmate will come striding in to commit to me and my big plans any time soon, so maybe this is my chance to work on how I feel about myself. Not myself on a holiday, or myself at a festival. Not how I feel about myself with a hypothetical partner and life.

Myself.

Just me, as I am.

So I can be the one that determines whether I am enough.


x M

As alone as you feel you are - you aren't (trust me, I'm with you)

'Language has created the word loneliness to express the pain of being alone and the word solitude to express the glory of being alone' - Paul Tillich

I've always loved that quote. A lot of people I've talked to over the years who have gone through break-ups, been bullied, or have undergone bouts of anxiety and/or depression (oftentimes clinical) have expressed the hardest part of the downward emotional plummet is the perpetual feeling of loneliness. For me, when I'm anxious I feel like no one is there to help me with my never ending cycle of thoughts. I feel like my brain smothers me in bleak isolation. For all of us, I feel, the loneliness comes from a similar place. We feel as though no one will be able to embrace our brokenness without judgement - that we will be a burden for others to brush off or resent. 

That is not true. 

Whether it's a simple anecdote you wish to share about a lost loved one, or a worry you have about your future - we, as a human species, aren't that bad at hearing each other out. Sure, you may need to choose your audience, but there's a lot of people out there who are willing to listen. I've been so determined to avoid this loneliness that I've actually approached random people I've never talked to on a deep level (or haven't spoken to in a very long time) and opened up to them about how I'm feeling. And, you know what? The response was refreshingly full of worthy insights, wholesome support and mostly, lots of love.

There's no particularly insightful purpose of this post other than to remind anyone who's struggling that we are here. All of us are here as people, friends, grievers, motivators. Humans inherently will care if you show them you need it. Don't feel scared to share your loneliness, it only makes the attainment of solitude that much harder. Now I'm working on being okay by myself, but I'm so grateful and humbled by the people who have made this transition less lonely. I needed it more than you know. 

Love, M x