Carrying my Heart on my Sleeve Isn't Really my Thing

It's a pretty common expression - "carrying your heart on your sleeve."

I've always admired people who are able to do just that. They appear so confident and free. I want to be able to say "I honestly don't give a fuck what you think about me and I'm going to say and show what I feel because I can."

Now I'm not saying that it's okay to say whatever I want to. For example, it'd be flat out rude and disrespectful of me to call someone an idiot because I believed they were an idiot.

If I can think of a good example to illustrate the idea I'm trying to convey, then I'd pick Kobe Bryant. Kobe has always been an outspoken, self-confident baller. He demands perfection out of everyone, including himself, and isn't afraid to say it. He doesn't care what critics have to say about him. He says what he wants and leaves it at that, never once turning his head to look back. He gives everything 110% effort to prove his doubters wrong.

I look at Kobe and how he carries his heart on his sleeve. He lays everything out there for the world to dissect and criticize. But in the end, he still knows that he is who he is, no matter what anyone has to say. Then I look at myself. Why can't I just carry my heart on my sleeve? Why can't I just say what I honestly want to? Why do I worry so much about the after effects?

I think most of it stems from the fact that whenever I truly opened up to someone who I believed cared, they left me. They left me hanging onto the idea that they cared. They left me to wonder why they chose to walk away from everything. They left me with my trust in relationships shattered. I try to not expect anything from others anymore because I don't want to be disappointed more than anything else. Maybe I just hope for the best out of people too often. If anything, my past relationships have taught me that people will always constantly disappoint me.

Another part of it might be more subconscious than anything else. I've grown up with the societal idea that men don't really show their emotions because it's considered to be "sensitive" and "unmasculine." I guess that idea that has perpetuated upon itself. Generally I feel like talking about my own "feelings" and problems and worries would make me appear weak and incapable of solving something on my own. I don't want to portray the image that I need somebody else's help. I'm a person who takes great pride in being able to reason things out and then come up with a rational way to solve those problems.

There are still so many things I want to say to certain people. I want to tell the girl who led me on: "You really hurt me." It's such a simple statement to say but I still can't bring myself to say it. Part of me wants an apology still because I feel like I deserve one. Part of me believes that it's not worth the effort anymore because she seems like she's moved on so I should to. Part of me thinks that she's just one of those people that'll never admit to what she did. Whatever the reason, that simple statement is still something I want to say. 

I don't really know what it is that prevents me from sharing how I feel, even to my own friends and family. Out of all people, I feel like I should be able to tell them at least. But I don't. I don't want them to worry because all of them already have their own problems to deal with. In a way to block out others and hide myself, I usually just end up saying unnecessary insults to push others away from me. Stripping others of the opportunity to connect to me is just me trying to save myself from that disappointment I was talking about earlier.

But as I write this, I ask myself: "Can I really keep on living like this?" Can I maintain this "distance" from others forever? Can I really make it through life on my own? Can I bring myself to trust people again? Can I get over my own insecurities to carry my heart on my sleeve?

Contact

One Insecurity, Many Doubts

Throughout grade school and college, I've been labeled as "the smart student" or "the smart Asian." And ever  since I feel like everything I've done regarding school has further solidified that image/reputation.

Everybody wants to be able to tell themselves that they are good at something; everybody wants to be proud of being able to showcase a certain skill or talent - for some people that might be singing, for others dance, for some sports, for others grades.

That last category is me. Grades. Academics. Straight A's. More AP courses than I can count with my fingers. Graduated top 5 out of high school. Near 4.0 science GPA as a biology major.

I grew up believing that the only thing I had to be proud of was my grades and my academic achievements. I was almost always the last kid picked to be on somebody's team for dodgeball or kickball. I was too short to ball with kids for a pickup game. I never liked the sound of my voice when I sang. I was too shy to ever perform cello as a soloist. No girl has ever honestly once told me she just likes me as a person. I was the short, chubby Asian kid who everybody knew as the stereotypical "Asian nerd." Even within my close group of friends, I was always called "the smart one," "the nerd," or any other synonym you want to throw in.

And the "smarts" or intelligence that I supposedly have according to my peers has only been exploited. In junior year of high school, there was this girl I liked for over a year. We were in a lot of classes together but I'm pretty sure she didn't know I existed. To my surprise, we were put on a group project together for AP English and I finally got the chance to talk to her. And for those of you who may be thinking that this is sounding like the typical story of "boy liking a girl out of his league" and so on...well, you can't be more mistaken. She was just an average girl. Cute smile. Long, wavy brown hair. Big, black opaque eyes. Friendly.

The project went really well. We ended up getting the highest mark in the class. And we quickly hit it off (or so I thought). We began studying after school together, hanging out a lot, texting throughout the night, etc. I felt like that maybe this time...

But when I finally confessed, she replied with an answer that I never saw coming: "Oh, you really didn't think I liked you, did you? I thought it was pretty obvious that we were only friends. I mean it's great that you're helping me out so much with classes and stuff though."

I still can't tell if she actually wanted to be friends or just used me to help her with classes. It's somewhat pathetic that I still haven't let go of this from the past. I mean it's been almost five years. Like, seriously, get over it, right?

But I can't help but think from time to time that the people I consider my closest friends today maybe actually don't even really like me all that much as a friend. I notice that I'm usually the one who has to make the effort for us to meet up and hang out and do something together. I'm usually the one who initiates conversation. I'm usually the one waiting...

I don't really consider myself all that great of a person either. Maybe I'm just bitter from this idea that I don't really have anything to offer except my grades/academics. And that makes me think even more: "Why do the people who I consider my friends even bother talking to me sometimes?" Sometimes I actually believe they probably would live less stressful lives and wouldn't have to deal with an asshole, douchebag, self-conceited jerk like me. Occasionally I want to ask, "Would you still be friends with me if I was just an average student?"

And for everyone throughout the years who has commented on how I go overboard with bragging about my grades and such.

Say I told you that my grades/academics are the only things I feel like I have to be proud of and the only things I have to offer. Say I told you that I brag about my grades to hide the fact that I'm so insecure about myself from everyone. Say I told you I do all this because I'm so pathetic and insecure that I have to be able to see that I am better than somebody else at something through other people's shortcomings.

As pathetic and borderline malicious as that may seem, I have this necessity to know that I'm better than other people at something. Because growing up, my grades were the only thing that kept me going. If I lose that now, what do I become but just another grain of sand...

And I know I'm a douchebag. Everybody says it all the time. But what's the point of trying to change that image once it has been drilled into everybody's mind? No matter how much I want to change that now I can't. It's not possible because that image has stuck with me for too long. And say I do change for the better, become more empathetic towards others...if I'm ever stressed or upset and just act "like a douchebag," people will just say, "Oh you're being a douchebag again." Well I'm sorry everyone, but no matter how much I want to change that image, it won't change because y'all believe that's what I am.

Words I Never Said (and Probably Will Never Say)

I still find it really funny that we never met until freshman year orientation despite the fact we live only roughly a fifteen-minute car drive from each other. I don't really know what it was that drew us closer at first as friends - perhaps because we were in the same orientation group with aspirations to become doctors, or maybe it's because you were just a fun, outgoing girl who liked to meet new people, or maybe it's because we discovered we actually live really close to each other in Jersey and had something in common to talk about.

Whatever the reason, I can honestly say that meeting you at orientation and staying friends with you was the single greatest blessing God has granted me here at my undergraduate career at NYU. Through the highs and lows, the best and the worst, through all the pointless all nighters for general chemistry with Halpin, through the anger and frustration that was organic chemistry with Jones, and through the failure of physics professors (MacFailden), I find it both unbelievable and deeply moving that we stayed close friends.

Don't you think it's funny that after orientation we didn't really keep in contact the rest of the summer but then somehow through mutual friends we met again? And from that point on our friendship only grew stronger - countless all nighters spent on gen chem and calc 1, the French fries sprinkled with so much salt that made my face cringe at Third North dining hall, doing a bunch of stupid dances at Third North dance room and watching me fail at body rolls, and actually discovering that there was a drink known as bubble tea together (Northern Jersey problems). I look back at everything and find that we shared so many experiences together, the simple memories that I'll cherish for a lifetime, no matter where life may take me.

Our friendship is an interesting one to say the least; we constantly tease and insult each other but we both know that it's all in good fun. Hey, at one point, according to Facebook, we were technically husband and wife. Forever the cow! (but not really forever).

I still remember how excited yet embarrassed you were to tell me about your first kiss. It's strange to think how that was more than two years ago but only feels like yesterday. I think for me at least, the most fun I had was just being able to watch football and basketball with you. Not going to lie, it's pretty awesome when a girl knows her sports, not to mention be that passionate as you are (Nets are still going to beat the Bulls though).

And when I look back at our friendship, I can't help but also feel like I've wronged you in so many ways that it would probably take at least as long as medical school to make up for everything. I honestly wished you had told me how much of a jerk, asshole, whatever you want to say, I was. Why didn't you tell me how much of a stress I was to be around? But despite all the stress and negativity I put on you, you were the one who still managed to see the little good in me at the time, the one who gave me numerous second chances. And when Christians talk about forgiveness and unconditional love and how it is something we should all keep in mind and work towards, I know that God is here with me because I have a friend like you, one who always refused to give up on me.

I'll be frank. The lines and boundaries of our friendship started blurring for me a couple of months ago. I was in denial about it, constantly telling myself that it can't be, it shouldn't be, it won't be. But when I sat down and thought about it, I knew. The one girl who has always been there. The one girl who might love football and basketball more than I do. The one girl who can both sing and dance (really well might I add). The one girl with a heart bigger than I could have ever imagined.

I'm fairly positive that the thought has never crossed your mind and why should it have? At times I still ask myself if I even have the right to, especially after all that I've wronged you. But a little part of me holds onto a thin line of hope that maybe, just maybe.

I've always been the friend. The perfect platonic friend. And our friendship has built upon this idea of us always being the perfect platonic friendship. But I don't want it to be any longer. Everyday, for the past two months, I want to see you, I want to text you, I want to hear your voice, I want to share my worries and fears and hear yours, I want to grab food with you, I want to watch basketball together, I want to walk through the streets at night with you...

But I'm so afraid. Afraid that these words, the words I never said and probably will never say, might ruin our friendship. Would it be a betrayal of the trust you have for me as a friend? Would it be nothing but an act of selfishness to honestly confess how I feel? If you ever found out, can we still be as close as before?

Normally I would tell myself I would confess because I don't want to think about the 'what ifs' and such. I don't want to regret not saying anything. But this time, just this once, I think holding onto the words I never said may be the right thing.

Only Three Weeks Left

21 Days

1260 Hours

30240 Minutes

Three different ways to count down the time.

Only three weeks left.

I didn't really worry about this that much throughout most of the year but now that the MCAT is so close I can't help but feel a bit rattled and unprepared. Despite averaging a score of 34 on four separate practice exams, I'm worried that there's too many variables I can't control.

What if there's one verbal passage that I just can't get and it kills my score? What if I start zoning out during the 4+ hour test? What if I fall ill the night before? What if the MTA shuts down and I can't make it to my test site?

In a way, this test is the culmination of my college career. No pressure right?