I was thinking the other day about how my whole life can be summed up in one term: misfit. I mean, how many times do I use “my parents are immigrants” as a way to explain my eccentricities? If you think about it though, being American-born Chinese really has put me in this odd space. For example, growing up in Frederick, there were less than 10 Asians in my high school (close to 1000 students?). I was always harassed for being Asian, small, and scrawny. People made fun of my parents. People bullied me. Then whenever I went back to Taiwan as a child, I never fit in there either: my skin was too tanned; I was too big-boned compared to my cousins; I didn’t speak the Taiwanese dialect; my Mandarin was too basic or whatever; I was too unruly and defiant. When I went to Duke, there were more Asians but I was the underachieving one with my mediocre grades. In Shanghai, my “yellow face” prevented me from getting teaching jobs despite my training and experience. My relatives there described my Mandarin as elementary or awkward. When they heard me speak English, they insisted that my American accent wasn’t the same as John’s. Meanwhile J would say a few words in Mandarin and suddenly, he was super advanced. 

Now, in Silicon Valley, I’m either the “soft” engineer (civil) with the social skills at a tech startup, or I’m the comm person with the engineer’s social awkwardness at the non-tech workplace. Everywhere I turn, there is some part of me that isn’t quite right. I think of my friend J who grew up moving to a different state every two years. She has incredible awareness and social/emotional intelligence. She credits her ability to read people and adapt quickly to this upbringing. I suppose I can credit my resiliency to my history of being an eternal misfit. On good days, I think I’m pretty adaptable: I have a high tolerance for discomfort, and I’m not afraid to push myself despite the natural fears of rejection or exclusion. But on my bad days, I feel tired. Tired of trying. Tired of pushing. Tired of not having the ease of being immediately accepted and welcomed. In these moments of self pity, I remind myself that these struggles are minor compared to “real” troubles people without privilege face. I try not to complain. So instead, I have days and maybe weeks where I feel overwhelmed by the constancy of being a lifelong misfit. I wonder what is wrong with me. Why are certain conditions so absolutely unbearable for me while for others, it’s simply no big deal.

Yesterday morning, I received an email from my Duke roommate. She is a successful, high ranking OB/GYN in the military. In the last two years, she met the love of her life, got married, bought a house, got a dog, had a kid… anyway, she was in town for a friend’s wedding and wanted to know if I was free for lunch. It had been a long time since we’d hung out one-on-one, and I was kind of looking forward to catching up. As we hit all the key topics, she asked about my job and I admitted that I hated it. She agreed that she thought social media was a weird fit for me, and then she made this comment like, “What job number is this for you?” I shrugged my shoulders and replied, “Everyone’s got a puzzle they’re trying to solve. Not everything lines up at the same time.” We went onto other topics and then her friend joined us. Then it was all about child-rearing and that person’s soap opera drama (seriously, she was dating her best friend’s soon-to-be-ex). On my drive home, I just kept replaying my friend’s comment. I get so disappointed when people say the most insensitive things. I’m a sarcastic person, so sure, I get that not everything is so goddamn literal, but fuck man, words also matter.

I mean, she was unlucky at love for almost 20 years: failed relationship after failed relationship. Did I EVER say to her, “what relationship number is this now?” When I was at Duke, I had nervous breakdowns bc of my grades. To make matters worse, I had my parents calling every damn week harassing me about my test scores, giving me advice on how to study harder or better… The transition from high school valedictorian with all my awards and extra-curriculars and Chinese school accomplishments to sub-par undergrad was a difficult period for me– a paralyzing culmination of expectation, pressure, privilege, and disappointment. I remember once when I didn’t agree with her strategy for taking classes just for the “easy A” as she described it, she said, “well, unlike you, I’m not trying to get the lowest GPA possible.” It’s weird bc I’ve always had so much loyalty for that friendship, and now reflecting on the last few encounters, I really don’t know why. To be honest, things have never really been the same since graduation, and maybe that’s my own damn naive fault. Through the years, she was awful at keeping in touch. I wasn’t even sure about going to her wedding in September 2014. Ultimately, I was glad I went bc I really wanted to celebrate her milestones, but maybe now I can just let things go. After my visit with her, I drove home, stepped in the door, and just started to cry.

J keeps saying that 2015 has been a shitty year for me. Aside from the work dissatisfaction, he always points to the shifts in my friendships as playing a key factor: the openspace people moving away, changing jobs, or retiring, G& J being in Seattle, J&J having a kid… I always rejected his theory. Then, over Thanksgiving, I felt like I couldn’t really have a conversation with J&J without them being distracted by the baby. And we’ve certainly seen less of them now that weekends get filled with playdates and kiddie camping trips. I don’t begrude them of cute lil’ H, but for some reason, I had an epiphany. 

A long time ago, I read an interesting essay about friendships: the article likened them to catalysts and enzymatic reactions. You need proximity, attraction (through common interests), and frequency. In the past, when I had lost touch with S from grad school, I chalked it up to just us not having things in common anymore, bc she was a housewife living in the South. She had had two kids and that life was exhausting, and we had fewer and fewer things in common. Maybe that’s what’s happening now. Slowly and esp bc the kids are in their needy years. I dunno.

J has suggested that we focus on getting more child-free friends AND maybe we need to move to the city where there is a higher concentration of like-minded people and things to do. The thing is, I rather like my Houseboat. But I also agree, life in suburbia is rather boring and everything is really centered around kids. This makes me think about my single friends. God, it must be so frustrating for them to hang around homebody couples!

Sigh, these are the things that keep me up late. Turns out, I don’t just need a job overhaul, I need to overhaul so many other areas: family, location, friends…  Now I’m suddenly tired and ready for bed!