Beautiful Things

I often wonder what it's like to feel comfortable in your own skin. It is a concept that quite frankly is foreign to me. Can other people pinpoint the time in their lives when the image of themselves was sealed in their minds. I can't remember how old I was, but I know I was at least 6 or 7. I remember it happened on Terra Nova Avenue. And I remember it was Kevin Bubel who spoke those ugly words that gave me the first image of myself. I didn't even know what it meant, but I knew by the look on his face and the reaction of the others around me that it was bad. And my poor self image was set and only intensified from there.

Ever since that moment, I have been battling with myself about how I believe I am perceived by the people around me. It has affected every aspect of my life, ruined relationships, prevented me from doing things that I want to do. It has made me hesitant, distrustful, angry all the time, resentful and unpleasant to be around. The simple act of getting dressed to go out with friends causes so much stress, I've often broken down and feigned illness to avoid being seen. I would rather sit home stewing in my own misery, then try to find something to wear to go out with my thin, beautiful friends. I believe that inevitably, I would be ignored, looked over or made fun of at some point in the evening. Going to war with yourself every waking moment of every day is an exhausting process. Trying to end that war is even more exhausting.

So, what do I do? I move to Asia. Land of the waif. Brilliant, yes? Initially, I thought that moving there would help to change me. Transform me into the person that I want to be. But it didn't. It only solidified the horrible perception I have of myself even more. I thought the judgement at home was bad. Hearing "No big sizey" over and over just made things worse. I remember one particular incident when I was on my way to work. Two ajummas were walking toward me, and I could see that they were staring and talking about me. As we passed each other, they stopped and watched me pass. They had looks of disgust on their faces. At that point, I lost my composure. I yelled at them, "WHAT? What do you want?" Yelling at them only made me look worse, I suppose, but I really could not control myself.

Being on the receiving end of criticism for being fat chips away at any self confidence or self worth I may have. Maybe this is why I photograph things. Being behind the camera is a comfortable spot for me. It takes away any potential for the spotlight to be on me. Finding beauty in places where others may not see it is almost like an accomplishment for me.

These feelings are so ingrained in my being, I don't know if I would know myself as a self confident person. And yet, I continue to try.

Transitions

I have been home, in Canada, for almost a year and yet, I am still struggling with this transition. Still finding myself saying, "I just got home." Still waiting for the moment when I finally feel settled in. Eleven months, and it still has not hit me yet.

Within the 3 and a half years of living and working in Korea, my mind would constantly wander to that moment when I could get on the move again to get home. That was my ultimate goal, wasn't it? And now, 11 months into my being home, my mind still wanders back in time to eleven months ago. Am I just nostalgic for the good points of my time there? Or am I just wishing for those things I don't have?

Eleven months ago, I could list 100 or more reasons why I needed to leave, needed to go, needed to "get the hell out of Asia". The smog, the crowds, the endless intrusion, the lack of personal space, the lack of open and empty spaces, the constant staring, the ever present film left on my skin from the lack of true, fresh, clean air, the humidity....my god, the humidity! And then of course were the things I missed from home. Clean air, fresh water, the ocean, being able to go outside and be alone rather than having to stay inside to be alone, my family, my friends, driving a car.

Now that I am home I find myself listing in my mind, lots of reasons to go back. I miss my friends, the easiness of life, the freedom, being accountable to no one but myself, and of course the money flow. In reality, my friends have mostly found their way in other places, their homelands, or are on some adventure in a far off land. There is also some distortion in my perception. I know this is true. I realize I am almost romanticizing my time there.

The other part this transition is I am becoming that person that no one likes to have around. I am becoming that person who says "Well, in Korea we did things like this...." "If you think this is bad, you should have been in Korea...." "When I was in Korea..."

I hate that person.
I swore I wouldn't be that person.

I am not sure of many things, but I am certain that I am not where I want to be. As I sit back and examine my life and where I am today, eleven months after coming home, I know change is eminent. Even with all my nostalgic thought, I am quiter certain the change will not take me back to Korea. But there is more transition to come.