Hello, lovely people!
Yes, I am still trying to make this blog happen. I know it’s been a long time. The stats on my dashboard on WordPress definitely takes note of that. I wanted to update you all on what’s happened so far.
I got my hair cut about a week ago and got six or seven inches chopped off. I admit, that’s not the longest I’ve let it grow out. if I recall, I got a haircut in high school and donated my hair to Locks of Love. The hairstylist told me she cut fourteen inches. Since my hair was much thicker then, I actually donated twenty-eight inches.
Anyway, I am now donning an adorable bob. I forgot how much I love having short hair. Sure it takes a little longer to style but I save a good amount of shampoo and conditioner and have gone from fifteen minutes of drying my hair to about five minutes.
I’m sure almost everyone has heard a variation of this phrase by Coco Chanel, “a woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life”. She’s right. I had the irresistible urge to cut my long tresses. When my wonderful stylist, Morgan, made the first snip, I felt liberated. It’s a bit silly to say that but it’s true. I felt as though everything I had been holding on to fell away. Literally, a weight on my shoulders was gone. I really enjoy having long hair but it was becoming a burden to keep up with and when my hair is long, I don’t feel happy. I wasn’t too surprised that after I left the salon I was ecstatic over my new hairdo. I felt really good and gushed about my hair while I drove home. I even texted a selfie to Alex and Kristi, two wonderful human beings that I have the privilege of being friends. I can’t remember if I used all caps and how many exclamation points I used.
When I went to work the next day, I always forget that people will always ask, “Why did you cut your hair?”. I believe my excuses don’t sound as valid as they used to be because I wasn’t convinced myself. I was avoiding the real reason why. I just wanted to. I am going to repeat that again in bold face, italicize, and underlined. I just wanted to. That is a valid reason.
I’ve gone through life trying to explain my decisions to people who could care less about me and to people who love me very much. Even the simplest decisions I would talk for a whole minute as to why I chose this and not that. Basically, I have been trained to validate my existence.
First and foremost, I have the utmost respect for my older siblings and parents who emigrated to the States in the late eighties. They are so admirable and it makes me cry whenever I imagine how difficult it was to move to a country where you don’t know the language and its customs. I don’t tell them that face to face because we’re traditional and we don’t share feelings like that. It makes things awkward. However, I can say it on this platform because I know they don’t read my blog.
Back to what I was originally saying. Growing up in a traditional Asian household is tough. Growing up as a first-gen Asian-American is tough. Growing up in a traditional home, as a first gen Asian-American woman to me is even tougher.
I’m the second youngest of eights kids and I’m the youngest daughter out of the four daughters. So I was given the chance to do things that my older siblings weren’t able to. My oldest sister likes to remind every now and then of this privilege. Being the youngest, I developed a different type set of opinions and morals that sadly didn’t get sorted out till late last year. It’s what happens when you’re the baby girl. You take forever to get your crap together
I remember when I was about seven or eight I made the statement as to why us women do all the cooking and cleaning at these, what I’ll dub as, jingle bell parties (I’ll elaborate on that at a later time). I used to get so mad when I was helping out (I wasn’t much help anyway) and all these men who were very capable of helping out as well sat in the living room and gossiped. That’s right! I said it! They sat around and gossiped! I mean, all the older ladies did too but they were prepping food at the same time.
I want to clarify when I say traditional household I mean the way how it was in the fifties but with Asian people. The husband was the head of the household and the wife was the homemaker. If you were a boy, you did “boy things” and if you were a girl, you did “girl things”. I hated it. At a young age, I couldn’t fathom why everything felt so unfair. I was eventually told to stop asking questions and conform to the ways. Unfortunately, I did for some time.
From my viewpoint, women and girls in my culture aren’t valued as much as their male counterparts and it frustrates me that it’s still like that to this day.
In the eyes of the older generation, I only become a woman when I get married and have kids. Like a power ranger, I must transform in order to attain this mystical status that grants me special powers. I cannot be a single mother because I’ll just be considered difficult and unmarriable. I cannot even be a single woman with no children and not in a relationship in her mid-twenties and above because I’ll seen as an old maid or a lesbian.
The thing is that took me so damn long to realize is that none of that matters. To quote my friend Kristi who advised me so eloquently when I told her my coworkers kept saying I looked like another coworker after I cut my hair short, “**** ‘em.”
Regardless of my relationship status, sexual orientation and where I am in my life, I am a woman. I don’t need other people’s validation to say that I am or I’m not. If I began my teenage life without caring what people perceived me as, I’d be much happier and less sarcastic. The only opinion that matters the most in my life is mine.
I’ve always had these thoughts I just haven’t written them down. It’s funny how they snowballed when I cut my hair. I started out just writing to you guys that I got a haircut. Then it went into a completely different direction. A direction that needed to be known nonetheless.
I saw on a text post on Tumblr a long time ago. I think about it whenever I feel inadequate sometimes. The original writer of the post wrote the artists who had thousands of followers and thousands of likes on their posts. They felt they weren’t good enough because they didn’t have that talent. Another person, who is one of the many wonderful artists on Tumblr, commented and wrote that without people like the original writer their work will not be shared and talked about. Without an audience, they would not be as popular if they didn’t have people sharing, reblogging, liking, and commenting on their artworks.
I have arrived to the conclusion that I cannot become a full-time writer or author of some sort. I tried writing every day and reading books to get a better idea of writing but found that I enjoy reading more so that writing.
I know I’m not a good writer and whenever I try to write a story I lose interest quickly. I have too many documents on my computer of possible plots and prompts. It does make me sad that I can’t become a name in literature but I’ll gladly be one of its appreciators.
Now making a random left turn in this post, I’ll be attending SHINee’s fifth world tour in Dallas, Texas on March 24th (#SWCV2017 #SHINeeWorldinDallas) with my older sister who is also attending the concert despite not being a kpop fan. This is their first world tour with stops in the US and Canada.
It hasn’t sunk in that I’m going next week. I’m not prepared at all for it. I have an image of these guys and I’m scared that they’re going to be everything and more.
I did spend a lot of money on this trip and a few people have said that it’s a waste of money. Given that this is my once in a lifetime chance to see my favorite kpop group perform, I don’t really care and I don’t want to miss it.
Buying tickets to the concert was stressful. I don’t ever want to go through that site again. That was terrible. Seriously, I had amazing seats (they were P1 seats, side by side) but I kept getting the message that something was wrong with my payment confirmation. Nothing was wrong. The site is crap.
I spent so much money on preordering merchandise. I wrote it all out in my trip journal but I haven’t looked at it recently because it makes me sad.
I know this is going to be an event I’ll never forget and you can bet I’m going to brag about it when I get back.
Live long and prosper,
Ellen Jones Vang