I am not ok.

Do you know what it's like to wake up in the middle of the night, terrified for your life? All you can hear is your heart racing alongside the sounds of someone breaking into your house. All you see are the lights flashing outside your window. 

Do you know what it's like to fear that your life will end at 3:32 in the morning and thinking it's the police? 

And no matter how you yell at yourself to fucking move, your body refuses and continues to lay tangled up in your sheets?

I do.

This morning, I feared for my life and there wasn't anything I could do about it.

When I first left for Korea in the summer of 2018, I thought that by the time I returned to America, life would be better for Blacks. I hoped I wouldn't be so terrified to live here. 

But life did not get better, it got worse.

I don't even know where to start, but I know where it ends. If it's not in the grave, it's in continued fear.

As you all know, I do my best to be honest on SaveOurToya. It's not easy putting this out for the whole world to see. But I do it anyways. And in my struggle to be honest, I confess that I am so terrified that I have to psych myself up to leave my apartment these days.

I don't know if someone will see me walking to the grocery store and see me as a threat. I am terrified to go on a walk. 

This is what my life has become. A constant cycle of terror and fear. 

I hate this. 

I hate it so, so much.

I hate that because of a terrible storm this morning, I thought I someone was trying to kill me. 

I am not ok, and I don't know when I'll ever feel safe living here.

#SaveOurToya

Big Decision are BIG

I'm about to make one of the biggest decisions I've ever had to make.

This morning, I saw an email in my inbox that told me I had 24 hours to make a decision. Not a lot of time, and I doubt I'll have some saving grace like they do in the movies.

Yesterday, I was ecstatic.

Today, I'm troubled.

Or...at least I was.

I hope no one at work can tell that I was crying this morning.

I really, really hate decisions like this. You know, between the rock and the hard place...it's not a fun place to be.

But it's the place that I'm in and it's a harsh reality that took me blind this morning. I didn't know which was up and down. My head was saying one thing and my heart was tugged between two other things, not even in the mood to listen to my head. And the whole time, the rest of my body went through it's morning routine.

Get up.
Get dressed.
Morning walk.
Get ready for work.
Eat breakfast

After I finished eating, I recognized I was about to fall into a panic attack. I found it in myself to reach out to my friends first.

My first phone call helped calm me down.

After that, my dad called. (At some point, I had informed my family.)

And during that phone call...I began to cry. I couldn't hold it back. My body was reaching critical levels and was already beginning to shut down. It was not having this.

Yet...my dad was able to get me thinking straight again. His calmness and perspective restarted my systems or rebooted them. Whatever you wanna call it, I was no longer crying over my phone curled up on the floor of my kitchen.

We made an outline of what needs to be done.

A game plan.

Even though I still feel raw and not 100%, I know the decision I'm going to make.

Unfortunately...that decision will leave me in tears as well.

#SaveOurToya

It's Funny

Funny, but in that ironic sense of way. A few days ago, I was wondering if I should post something before the end of the month, to give March one more post, but thought against it. I don't like posting to just post.

I prefer to have something of sustenance go up. Something that will give me a good insight to what I was thinking about, without having to flex my brain very hard later down the road, wondering what was going through my mind.

Ah, what can I say, I'm lazy and I embrace it. 

Now, back to the irony of it all. 

Yesterday, someone mentioned that they've been meaning to write again, and really wanted to, but just...[insert half arm flail here...you know the one]. 

My response had been not to stress it. A writing piece will come when it comes. 

Not even 24 hours later, and here I am.

Last night, I was faced with a small anxiety attack that made me question why I wanted to stay in Korea for a second year. Holy hell that had been uncomfortable. I felt clamy and discomfort in my own skin. In my own bed. The moment you're uncomfortable in your own bed, is the moment you know you're not doing well.

It was my bed.

The one place I don't have to be anyone. I can just be a blob of exhaustion and still sass people from the tips of my fingers. The bed is a sacred place. 

And yet because of one 아저시, I was in an unsettled place, because of him and my trash. 

It sounds silly, doesn't it?

An anxiety attack because of the fucking trash.

*sigh*

I don't want to invalidate my experience, by saying it shouldn't have happened. That I am embarrassed by such a tumble of emotions to the point that I will discredit my experience. 

It's so hard though!

I'm internally struggling to find a balance between acknowledging what happened and avoiding it. 

Which is probably why I am writing this post now. 

I am acknowledging that my thoughts spiraled downward so fast any Korean would be proud at the speed. I went from, 'taking my trash out!' to 'did that man just grunt at me?' to 'wait, my trash DOESN'T go here? Well, where the hell does it go?' to 'there's no place for my trash, my life is going to turn into a trash dump...literally' to 'fuck, why is this guy such a dick?'. 

And as I was climbing into bed, to fall asleep for the night, bam! 

Anxiety showed it's ugly head.

The only way, I was able to settle down enough to fall into a restless sleep was by giving myself a game plan for the next day. I would go into work, speak to my co-teacher about the trash, and have her call the building owner. I was going to get my confirmation of where to put the stupid trash, so my life won't physically reflect what it sometimes feels like. 

And guess what I found this morning on my way into work.

Exactly.

I went through all of that last night, for basically nothing. 

Oh wait. I think I'm getting ahead of myself a little. 

Remember the 아저시? For those who don't speak Korean, it translates to a man who is between the age of 40 to 60. He was out smoking his cigarette and saw me drop off the trash at the 'not your spot'. I barely looked at him, mostly focused on my audio-book, when I heard random grunting noises over the narrator. I turned around and he starts talking. 

"Do you live in that building? Yes? Then, you can't put your trash here. Your trash site doesn't exist? It's there. Just look around for it. This place is for this building. Not yours. You understand? Good. This is not for your building."

That's pretty much the gist of what he said, as he points around with his cigarette. It was a surreal experience, that I was able to understand as much as I did, not freak out, and was even able to negotiate that I could leave my trash there for the evening.

I, personally, did not understand why it really mattered, it's all going to the same place on the same garbage truck...but anyways, yeah. Negotiating trash location without freaking out, I counted it as a win.

The freaking out was saved for later.

Now, here I am, sitting at work, well aware of where my trash goes, wondering why I wasn't told about the trash spot to begin with? 

Oh wait. I'm a foreigner. 

#SaveOurToya

Fourth Point

At some point during our Orientation period, we were told to find our 'fourth point'. Something that had nothing to do with teaching and more along the lines of doing something that interests you. A version of 'self-care' without out-right saying 'self-care'. It's a good concept, but it takes forever to find something to be your 'fourth point'.

At least to me, it did.

And the reason why I don't call it Self-Care (without the quotations marks), is the simple fact that you don't HAVE to have a fourth point during your grant year. But I am of the strong opinion, highly recommended, 10 out of 10 on Yelp, that Self-care is a must.

You need to take care of you, live for you, be for you. Taking a step away from Adulting and the pressures that you find yourself stuck under is a breath of fresh air that actually helps you more than sticking it out.

My Fourth Point never turned into learning a traditional Korean instrument or practicing my Korean. Or going swing dancing. (And yes, these are all versions of Fourth Points currently happening.)

My Fourth Point can be boiled down to three brilliant women who have made my grant year something one of a kind. Somehow, in all the confusion, joy, depression, amusement, anxiety, [insert adjectives here], I've been able to find a quiet joy.

Does that sound underwhelming to you?

Maybe.

But to me, it means more than I can ever put a price to. By the end of our grant year, I'm not sure what I'll do as my new Fourth Point as we all start the next part of our lives. While I am sad that two of three will be returning home, I am so proud of all of them and their continued journeys.

From Grad School to traveling to LSATs to a 2nd Fulbright Grant year.

There's so much I want to say to the three of you and I don't even know where to start.

To Tae: I know that you'll be staying a second year, which is why you're getting the first shout-out. To be honest, I don't even remember what connected us at Orientation, but I don't really care anymore. Whatever it may have been, I'm so thankful for it. You leave me in awe, Tae. The decision for law school and the LSATs...just, wow! I know it wasn't easy picking what you were you doing next, but you finally did it. You have such a caring heart and wonderful outlook on the world. I know that where ever you end up within the Justice System, they'll be lucky to have you.

To Julia: Mokpo was hella cold and you were hella sick, but still took the time to have lunch with us and hosted us for dinner. If that doesn't describe how fantastic you are, I'm at a loss. The bond we share is one-of-a-kind, if I were to be Frank. With you, I feel that I can just...be me. It leaves me in a delicate balance of vulnerability, but also safety. I'm thankful to you for letting me see this side of myself. Travel well, I cannot wait to see your pictures!

To Anni: I don't know how you do it, Anni. I really don't. It may be your dimples that get compliments, but it's really your soul that should receive praise. The amount of care I have seen you put to situations that I would disregard has left me in various states of confusion, amusement, exasperation, and fondness. Despite how your care for others may hinder you, you still don't change your ways. Some may call it stubbornness or self-destructive, but the way I see it, it's pure. Pure in that I knew I could rely on you when I needed someone during a very shaky time. It's a characteristic that will make you an amazing teacher. Have a great time in grad school!

There's so much more I can say to the three of you, but I'm going to leave it here.

No wait. That's a lie. One last thing.

Thank you for inviting me to your homestays and getting me out of Geochang. Yes, I'm "small town living", especially compared to the three of you, but it suits me. I'm a creature of habit, after all. I would not have settled in as well to Korea, if it weren't for you three forcing my hand and getting out of Geochang.

My Fourth Point = priceless.

#SaveOurToya

It Goes With Saying

During a discussion about what to get for my school while on a business trip to Taiwan, I accidentally read my friend's message wrong.

What the message said: Yeah, that should be enough.

What I read: You should be enough.

For a hot minute I felt a profound sense of happiness overcome me to the point I almost started blushing in happiness. However, my brain quickly corrected that interpretation.

Silly me, for reading that wrong.

When I told my friend what happened, they told me 'that goes without saying'.

Between calculating how much money I would need to exchange and whether I was an idiot for leaving my American credit card at home, I began to think if phrases like 'you should be enough' truly do go without saying? Could it be that this unspoken norm has damaged society over the years?

Has it damaged me?

I mean, let's think about it.

In its most simplest form, hearing good things about you isn't a bad thing. I would say it's a good thing. For a few seconds there, I felt good about myself. But then, that part of me that doesn't believe in myself, automatically reread my friend's statement and I realized I read wrong. I wasn't being complimented. The amount of money I wanted to exchange was being complimented.

-sigh-

I don't want to weigh my self-worth on the amount of compliments I've received, because it isn't about what other's see in me. It's about what I see in me, but when I'm not sure what it is I should be seeing, a second opinion never hurts.

Until it does.

Being in Korea, I've had my weight made fun of. My skin color has been labelled as dirty. My hair characterized as wild.

The only compliments I've received were in the area of my acne clearing up and my voice sounding like a movie star.

Whereas in the states, I was praised on my work ethic and ability to be empathetic. It's no surprise that I consider these two qualities as my strongest? In fact, I went and got a Master's Degree where I could combine them as a career option for myself.

My quick thinking and adaptability made me competent on the soccer field. My coach and other teammates told me that they liked how I played. After nine years, I'm not the last pick when I play a soccer pick-up game. In fact, my mother told me that had I had the heart in the sport, I probably would be on a professional team. And if I was on a professional team, you know damn well that I would go for a national team.

Just saying.

Would I have gone down a different path had I been complimented in other areas? If my passion would've been stoked more toward soccer or if I had been told my math skills were fantastic as well, instead of teaching English, I could be a professional soccer player who does research within the areas of sociological diligence.

Unfortunately, the past cannot be changed.

What I do have control over is my present and my future.

I have begun complimenting myself when I come across situations that make me uneasy or my anxiety holds me hostage. And good lord are those compliments hard to say, but that's when I need to hear them the most.

I can't rely on someone else to praise me. I need to believe more in myself anyway.

Remember when I mentioned I was going to Taiwan for a workshop? Here are some truths that I've been trying to overcome these last two months in preparation for Taiwan.

1. Many times I wanted to decline going. I do not think I will make a good impression due to all my nerves. I'm making things burdensome for my school.

2. Many times I felt financially unbalanced. In my goal to save money this year, I've been hit with a few purchases in the last month that has left me not meeting my target goals. And while I'm not paying for a majority of this trip, I still worry that I'll spend more money than I need too.

3. Many times I had to remind myself to be social while in Taiwan. I wouldn't say that I am at hermit levels of being social, I still tend to shy away from large crowds or being social at a normal level. I've been working hard on this, but I still have my backslides. I didn't want one to happen while in Taiwan.

4. Many times I needed to tell myself that I earned this opportunity. And while I'm not sure what part of my Fulbright profile made me qualify for this opportunity, something stood out to the Commission. I just only wish I knew what it was.

It was during these many times that I would tell myself a compliment.

1. I am smart.

2. I am strong.

3. I am amazing.

4. I am worthy.

Each time, it got easier to get through the negative. My voice got firmer.

It goes without saying?

No. It goes with saying.

#SaveOurToya

Saturdays

I can still remember a time when Saturdays were about lazy wake-ups, family breakfast, and catching my favorite Saturday morning cartoons. There had even been the odd day where I could slip back into bed and catch a few more minutes of sleep before I would be reprimanded into Saturday Cleaning Day fun.

Unfortunately, those Saturdays no longer exist for me. I can't remember when things started to change, or if it's even finished changing. What I do know is that on this sleepless Saturday morning, while walking to my Korean lesson, I made a realization on a matter I've been avoiding since elementary school. At some point during those formative years, I had begun lying to myself. One of the best well-kept known secrets.

This wake up call came while I was in the process of walking by a group of men this morning and did not feel threatened. Now, I cannot speak for all women (cis or trans), but many of us share an unwanted understanding. This awareness that we share is that a group of men does not equal safe. It doesn't matter if we are with friends or walking on the opposite side of the street. Too often have we heard of our sisters being targeted simply for trying to exist.

Rape culture is alive and thriving in this man's world where women are seen more as a way to improve a reputation than a person.

Another human-being.

So yeah. We understand each other's fear.

But this morning, as I walked by this group of men, that fear could not be found. It wasn't because I suddenly felt a sense of womanly empowerment. Or the fact that Korea has felt safer to me than a time in the states. No, fear was no where to be found.

What I felt instead was my anxiety questioning if any of them found me even remotely worth looking at outside of my clearly foreign features. If I was even remotely worth attacking.

Let me say that again.

If I was even remotely worth attacking.

The wave of anger and disappointment that overcame me when I registered what I had just thought was so heavy, I had to sit down. I slipped into the nearest cafe and found a seat. I could ask myself if I lost my damn mind as many times as I wanted, but I wouldn't have been able to answer.

Because there it was.

The secret that has always been there, but I've managed to avoid in an almost comical routine as I pushed through the day. I finally confronted my unspoken secret on the second floor of an Ediya cafe, two hours before my Korean lesson on a Saturday morning.

My lack of self-esteem, my self-worth...they were no longer a secret.

I don't know how this may change me, now that I'm acknowledging what I lack. Maybe I'll find that empowerment or perhaps my self-esteem will get at least a little boost?

Who really knows?

#SaveOurToya

Crying At Work

That's right. I was crying at work today.

They weren't sad tears, but relieved ones. 

I think...

After the week from hell, I had another case of students using rude language in the classroom. Do you know what it's like to hear a student say, "what the fuck?" after you give them an assignment? A student who, four years ago was in kindergarten? 

And it's not just one student. It's many students. Who say it at different times, on different days.

I'm well aware that they're kids, who don't have a true understanding of what they're saying...but...come on. 

I've stopped class mid-session and called them out on it.

I've said sternly, many times, "No. We do not say that."

I've even kicked two kids out of my classroom, and spoke to them one-on-one. 

For four months, of constantly telling them to stop, that it makes me sad, that its not nice, I'm finally brought to tears. 

But not because they cursed me out. That, while hurtful, isn't something that could bring me to tears. They're a couple of decades to early for that. 

No, I was brought to tears because of the apology I just received. 

My fourth grade class, the hellion-class, the ones who have tried me every day, just all said their apologies to me in various states of devastation. It came to my attention that the class was made aware of how I felt when they spoke rudely to me, around me, against me. 

And in return, they asked me to meet them in the science classroom, so they could apologize.

Y'all, I don't even care that they said it in Korean (mostly) and that one of the teachers translated for me. I don't even care that they made me ugly cry in front of them. 

All I know and feel, is that my heart isn't as heavy anymore. After their individual apologies, I had a teacher translate my teary response.

Here's what I told them...more or less...

"I am so happy that you've all apologized. I don't think you understand how much it hurts my heart when you speak rudely. I am so far from home, and I want that we have fun together. I want to make good memories with all of you. My heart is much lighter now. Thank you."

Then I gave them all hugs, because hugs make everything better. It didn't matter that I was ugly crying...some of them were ugly crying...no, that's not what mattered. 

What mattered was that we were moving passed this tough time together. That they understood my feelings and I understood their's. 

That is why I don't think I can classify my tears as tears of relief. It wasn't relief that I was feeling...not exactly. I was feeling an overwhelming sense of connection. I felt that finally, we connected. That we understood each other. 

And now for the rest of the day, I have such a delicate balance on my emotions. I can feel myself sometimes tipping over towards, 'gurl, you abou'ta cry', and have to jolt myself back to a steady spot before I ugly cry in the 교무실 and we don't need that. 

No one needs that.

Well, I probably do. But I can cry at home when I have my hot chocolate with some marshmallows that apparently Daiso sells. 

#SaveOurToya

Train Naps

All I wanted to do was nap.

Hey everyone, I'm going to be very candid here, and let you know this may be a triggering piece. If the topic of sexual harassment/assault and/or non-consensual makes you uncomfortable, than this post is not for you.

That being said...I want to follow up with, "I'm okay". I went back and forth on whether I should post this, but then I remembered the reasons I started this blog. And one of those reasons was honesty.

-----------------------

I had a late night on Friday. I had a fabulous dinner at a bulgogi "tent" with a friend in Daegu, followed by a cute cafe. As in, I'm pretty sure I found my favorite cafe in Daegu. It gave me a wholesome feeling and that's what mattered most.

This week had not been kind to me. :(

So, from cafe to hostel, I wasn't asleep until just before midnight. When I went to sleep, I was excited for Saturday. I was going to catch a train to Seoul, do some shopping, German restaurant (!), and see some friends for a five hour meeting (more excited for the friends than the five hour meeting). My Saturday was planned with the precision of a daughter raised by a German mother.

The second I sat on my train at 4:30am, I was ready to nap the whole ride. Seeing as I barely had three hours of sleep.

Clearly,  a nap sounds lovely, doesn't it?

And yet...someone had to ruin it.

Sitting in my window seat, with my large winter coat covering me, listening to my audiobook, eyes closed. I was relaxed and enjoying myself. It was so peaceful that I was about to turn off my audiobook and fall asleep.

I did not give it a second thought. My last few train rides were very chill and relaxed.

I registered that someone had sat down next to me, but that happens. You don't get to pick your seats, the system does. I shifted over a little since I figured the person was a little bigger than me, what with our arms and legs touching.

So, I shift.

But then I felt an arm resting on my side, and a leg pressing against my own...again.

So, I shift over...again.

Then I felt it all over...again.

Which is when I realized, this person is purposely being overly touchy. They're leaning on me, pressing against me, touching me...on purpose.

I hated it. I did not want it. I wanted to shove them away from me. Off of me. But I couldn't find it in me, and that made my frustration build.

In a single moment, this person turned me into an object. An object that they thought they had the right to touch. To invade.

I was uncomfortable...angry...disappointed...scared.

I was floundering about, trying to find a way to get out of the situation I found myself in. What do you do in a situation like this? Do I shout? Do I push him away? And if I do, what then? What will happen next? Will I be able to defend myself, or will he say its just the talk of a delusional foreigner trying to ruin his reputation? And with my limited Korean, will I properly be able to defend myself?

All these thoughts kept flashing through my head along with just how confident this person was going to be in a public space.

It was a few short minutes, but for me...it felt hours long. I felt trapped in my window seat, with this silencing invader hovering around me, taking away my voice. A voice I fought to have. Continue to fight to have. And yet...at that moment, I couldn't have a voice. It was robbed from me.

I became the object this person thought I was.

At some point, I found something inside of me. Perhaps it was a reminder of who I am or a hidden strength that has belied my actions for years that couldn't stay silent. I don't know what it was, but I'm so thankful for it. Because at that moment, I finally sat up and looked my attacker in the eye.

At this point, he'd already begun touching my thigh with his own hand, still pushed fully against my side.

And just like that, everything changed.

His leg was no longer pressed against mine. His fingers were no longer touching my thigh. His arm was no longer resting on me as if I was the arm rest. An object.

This whole experience was a reminder that while Korea has given me a safer sense of security than the states, there is still dangers. Dangers that can come at you when you're sleeping. Dangers that can take your voice that you continue to fight for.

This was not my first assault, but it was my first one in Korea. And while I hoped that it would never happen, it has. And I know it won't be the last time. My own autonomy is constantly in question, simply because I'm a woman. I'm not even factoring in all my other identities that take my autonomy further away from me.

Sometimes, life isn't easy and right now, I'm struggling with one of those moments. While I could put all my energy into wishing it never happened, it did.

It happened.

#SaveOurToya

If you or someone you know is ever put in a situation that is no bueno, and you need to talk to someone, please check out the information below. Everyone has different ways with coping and moving past a situation, so this is by no means me telling you what to do. I only want you to have all the resources possible.

Migrant Women's Hotline (365 days/years, English and 7 other languages): 02-1577-1366 or outside Seoul, local area code + 1577-1366.

Seoul Call Center: 120 (02-1220 cell phone/outside Seoul) then press '9' for foreign languages

And evidently 112 and 119 sometimes have English options depending on region and shift but they both automatically trace your phone when you do call.

Asia Emergency Association: 790-7561
Which is a bit more roundabout but might be easier if you need a guaranteed English speaker

Permanency

Trigger warning: gun violence at school

Despite my trigger warning, I want it to be said, there was no actual gun violence at my school. No shooting. No injuries. The students and teachers are all okay.

Me?

...not so much.

Y'all, I don't know why this week has been so shitastic, but it's been crazy hard this week. From bad-mood inducing news from my host parents to being bad-touched on a train to a small panic attack during third period on a Thursday.

I would like nothing more than to tell you about a good day, a good moment, or a happy feeling, but frankly...this week has been battling me every step of the way.

As many of you know, I'm half-American. I was raised and educated in the USA, thus my perspective has a multitude of American influences on them.

And today....today, I learned a valuable lesson that I never gave much focus to before.

When walking to my second class today, I noticed that my kids were a little bit more rowdy than usual. It's been a wild week for them to, but in a happier way thankfully, so I left it at that. I'm glad they were having a good week, even if it meant I had to deal with crazy students. At least they were being a good kind of crazy. I was about to walk into the 5th grade classroom, when I noticed something black in the front of the classroom.

I'm so thankful for my observation skills.

So fucking thankful.

Because what I saw was what looked like a fake semiautomatic gun.

I want it also to be said, I was already aware that Korea has a very strict gun policy.

And it was these two things that kept me from being too triggered at the situation I was about to find myself.

When one of my sweetest kids held the gun up, pointed it directly at my chest, and told me I was under arrest, it took a lot for me to not let my fear show. I don't know if my students noticed that for a second, I felt the color drain from my face. I felt my heart pick up speed. I felt my legs about to give out. I felt my lungs about to spaz out.

And this was me reacting to what I knew was a fake gun.

These children do not know what it's like to be black in America. They don't know what it's like to hear about shootings.

They just don't know.

Which was what helped me keep it together.

I kept telling myself over and over, 'they don't know'  as I tried to teach them about phone call etiquette and not looking at the spot where the "gun" was placed. It was probably one of the hardest classes I had to push through thus far.

I know that moments like these are great moments to educate someone. And while I would've loved for them to know and realize what their actions can produce in someone, what I just went through, I was also aware that my head-space wasn't in the right place for it.

How can I tell my precious students that the police scare me? That guns scare me? That people who look like me struggle simply because of our skin color? That school shootings are a fact of life and not a game, back home?

How can I talk about a topic that gives me a panic attack?

Look, I know I've been complaining about the cold (who knew I'd miss central heating), but if it's one thing I'm thankful for during this cold time its the snow. Looking outside the windows at the gently falling snow has been my one of my main solaces during this time of emotional upheaval.

It allows me to focus my thoughts and calm my overworked heart.

I mentioned in my last post about gun violence (The Aftereffects), that I'm working through my feelings. I figured out just what those feelings are; after today's reaction, it was pretty easy to figure out.

I'm afraid of guns.

I'm afraid of how permanent they are. I mean...with a single twitch, I can lose someone dear to me, my loved ones could lose me. (Good lord that sounds selfishly Toya-centered!) So many beautiful souls have been lost to us already, and as it stands, there's no stopping the shooting back home. As of today, there have been roughly 329 shootings in 2018.

We always think...'that wouldn't happen to me', or 'that doesn't happen around here', but guys. You never really know.

#SaveOurToya

Lost

Just when I thought things were going right. That I was happy...

Host mom just dropped some news on me that has left me upset.

Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas to me.

Now, it's been some time since I last posted, and that's due to not feeling the season. This time of year is pretty special to many people, no matter what they celebrate and hold dear to them. For me, this is a time of family, good cheer, Hallmark movies, egg nog, and hot cocoa.

And I've been trying very hard to get into the spirit of the holidays, but it hadn't been working until this morning when I was sitting in a Starbucks. I could smell the coffee brewing, listening to Sam Smith's version of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, surrounded by Christmas decoration, and having a laugh with good friends. That was when I felt it. That spark of warmth.

I felt genuinely happy this morning.

Little did I know that eight hours later, I would hear some news that...well, I'm pretty sure that feeling I had was extinguished.

I've lost it...the feeling of home.

#SaveOurToya

The Aftereffects

Trigger Warning: mass shootings, feelings being validated, emotional rambling on triggering topic
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Nose clogging.

Throat throbbing.

Eyes watering.

Head aching.

And yet, its the latest news about a mass shooting in a California bar that is making it hard for me to breath. Guys, I don't know where this naive thought came from, but for whatever reason, I thought that once I came to Korea, I'd stop hearing about shootings.

No more heart stopping news.

No more breath quickening to painful levels.

No more.

Joke's on me, I guess.

I'm recovering from a fever right now, not having the most comfortable of week, and it pales in comparison to how I feel.

I am well aware that the topic of mass shootings is a sensitive topic for me. The fact that a fellow Fulbrighter had asked how to broach the topic of mass shootings in America for their Korean students had me tensing, sweating, and breath quickening. It was hint enough that this was a topic that triggered me.

And here's what I recognize.

This is something I need to work through, but I'm not ready to talk nor do I know where to begin. Do I start with the school drills I learned in school for whenever there was a shooter on campus? Or do I start with the attempted mass shooting at my university during my undergrad days? Or the false alarm during grad school? What about Pulse? Parkland?

I keep having to stop typing. My fingers keep stalling.

During the recovery in Orlando after Pulse, I heard from various sources that it's okay to feel what you feel. That your feelings are valid.

That my feelings are valid.

But...maybe its because I'm not surrounded by the community that knew what it was like, or because I've been lulled into a bubble of safety since moving here, but its been getting harder to stay steady whenever I hear about a shooting.

Of all the things to have to prepare myself for with my move, finding support for moments like these was not something I thought I had to do.

I'm working through these emotions, I am.

But it's not easy....hell, writing this post was not easy. I mentioned that I had to stop typing many times. My fingers were literally tensing and causing me to hit the wrong keys. It doesn't help that my thoughts are all over the place and stringing one thought together was so hard.

Partly because of the fever, but mostly because of this topic.

This post was/is more for me than it was for you, I admit. An attempt at putting it all down. Granted, I'm doing better now than I did when I first started this post.

If only it were that easy to move past this.

#SaveOurToya

화이팅 (in More Ways than One)

Many of you have reached out to me, sharing your love and positivity during a time I wasn't able to do the same for myself. That is why this post is for you.

To you, who made me smile when I couldn't muster one up myself.

To you, who reminded me that I'm not alone.

To you, who talked me through my thoughts.

To you, who stood beside me.

To you, who listened.

To you, who cared.

To you...

I give you my thanks, my appreciation, and my affection. I know that many of you have your own problems that you're working through. And they are by no means less than someone else's. So, the fact that you took time to reach out means more to me than I can ever express. Know that if you need a willing ear or just someone to talk to, I am here for you.

Without hesitation.

#SaveOurToya

Day 1 at my Homestay

My first morning here was very nerve-wracking. I was a bit sick to my stomach really.

I had taken a bite of my bread with jam, thinking how different such a familiar thing tasted and suddenly, it was getting really hard to chew.

I really don't know how I did it. And when I swallowed it, it felt like a rock going down. I had to put my bread down and take a sip from my drink. I was so relieved when it went down without an issue.

I had to take a bite, sip at my drink, back and forth for a good ten minutes.

It was the worst wave of homesickness I ever got while being in Korea. I hadn't realized that my cohort had kept so much of the unfamiliar at bay while we were together. Sure, we were kind of isolated in Songdo, but still. Everything around us was very Korean.

During breakfast, I thought I would be struggling with this uncomfortable-ness for the rest of the day, but I didn't.

My Homestay fam took me out and we relaxed in a remote location where I was surrounded by nature and fresh air (featured in my week 7 post!). I didn't even have my phone with me (just my camera!). I don't think I'll ever be able to tell them how thankful I was that they let me join them on their outing.

I really needed it.

It's Day 2 right now, and as it stands...I'm a lot more calm...and confident in my actions and motions.

I know it'll come back...but for now. I will just enjoy the calmness.

#SaveOurToya

Stronger than I Look - First Month Update

My feelings have reached a new level of exasperation. I am frustrated, apathetic, amused, challenged content, tired, disappointed, excited, and inspired. So much has happened in this month between meeting everyone in my cohort, teaching for the first time, workshops, and trying to figure out what this year will bring me.

Instead of studying for my midterm, I wanted to get something off my chest.

This last week has been...a challenge. I'm not too sure if I can get the words out- hell, I don't even think I can properly express these emotions properly.

Please be patient as I try to put feelings into words. This may be all over the place, but...meh. I'm okay with that.

During one of our workshops, Culture Shock was explained to us. It's not the first time I've heard of it, and I've learned some techniques to handle it during my many travels/moves. Thankfully, I haven't had to experience the intensity that Culture Shock can reach in my past.

But maybe I'll feel it while in South Korea? The culture is quite different from home and anywhere else I've traveled. It's still undetermined, but I'm hopeful that everything will work itself out the way it needs to.

I'm mentioning Culture Shock, because that's probably the first thing others bring up when what I'm about to express is used as an explanation for my feelings. And fine, it may play a role, but if it's one thing I know well, it's that there's more to a story, person, and feeling.

Everything has an origin story, but so much goes into that story that leaving anything out is not only a disservice to the story, but something else entirely. I cannot blame my emotions on Culture Shock, not alone.

Alright, enough stalling. Time to jump right in to the heart of the matter.

I want to read my posts from April and May, to see where my emotions were back then, but I'm hesitant. I had hopes and goals that I wanted to meet. I fear that reading those posts will bring my disappointment to the forefront. No one likes being disappointed in themselves. One day, I'll look at them again, but I don't think I'm in the right place currently to do that.

Why is dealing with emotions such a struggle?

I think I've reached a point in my Orientation where I'm asking myself why am I here. Yes...I have a duty as a cultural ambassador while here under Fulbright's name. A responsibility I am honored to uphold and wish nothing more than to be successful for my country and my communities that I represent, support, and adore.

I want nothing more than to do right by my students and my Homestay Family.

But...I want to do something more.

And yet...what is that more?

I titled this post Stronger than I Look, for two reasons. 1) A friend of mine recently gave me news that I'm on the right path that I need to be on. I will come across trials that may appear daunting, but I have what it takes to get passed it.

And 2) a shout-out to my past. Since as far back as I can recall, I've always took on many tasks and have made it my point to exceed all expectations no matter the request. Of course, I also know how to say 'no'. But more often than not, my quick mind comes up with multiple solutions or answers before I turn to 'no'.

Though my strength exists...I'm also tired. Perhaps, I should hold off on the more and take my time to live a life without the demands that I'm familiar with. I'm still not done with my journey, but there's no shame in getting off at a nearby rest stop. Who knows when I'll get this chance again to stretch my legs, using the bathroom, and restock?

What are my emotions?

What are my actions?

Who knows. But as of now, with one month behind me since I've come to Korea, guess we'll just have to wait and see what I get up to.

#SaveOurToya