The crack that leads to the break

There are many little heart cracks that leads to a break up. It's hardly ever about 1 big thing -- though sometimes it could stem from the same root cause creating an obvious pattern of behavior -- but I digress.

One of the first instances of my heart 'crack' was when I shared how important is knowing, feeling, and processing emotions for me. 

I'm the stereotypical eldest daughter who felt like it was her responsibility to hold the family down. There was a number of emotional turmoils that were happening when I grew up -- things that feels humungous for a kid to process on her own. But my parents were both working and I saw how tired they would be even on the weekends. I didn't want to add to the stress, so I kept things as steady as possible. My interests were positively channeled, my academic challenges tackled, my energy were well-spent. Soon enough my 10 year old schedule was just as packed as my parents'. Emotions were at the back of my mind. Productivity always at the forefront.

So even though I was journaling, my entries look like action lines in a script. Activities I did and things others say around me. No introspection. Introspection would be a skill I acquired much later, once I realized that I couldn't name the feelings I felt in my body.

Pulling the time back even further, pushing down my emotions to appear quiet and obedient, had always been my way of keeping up with my parents. I remember being very young, possibly earlier than elementary school, at a time when Golden Truly was still the top mall in Fatmawati. I was crying, wanting to get a big barbie doll, which my parents had said no. Rather than comforting my unstoppable tears, they told me to stop crying and walked away. They left me, one floor away, they went down the escalator without me. This was the first moment where I told myself, too much emotion will make people leave you. So I stopped crying and ran up to catch up with them.

All the way to college, I still find myself looking at my own behaviors mid action, thinking "Is this too much love, too much care? Will people be weirded out feel uncomfortable?" And decided to tone it down, be cool. And so, cool I became to the point that I would dub myself an ice box queen. I couldn't cry in front of people, I couldn't be anything but a smiling heart, even when comments hurt I locked my lips and said nothing.

I couldn't blame two 30 year old first time parents for walking meters away from their crying child. They didn't know any better. They probably didn't have the money to get what I wanted, explained to me but I couldn't understand it. Either way, it was a child's perspective and that child's understanding of the world is still valid.

I'm older now than my parents then. I had taken the steps to heal from those ideas, made choices to get out of people-pleasing behaviors, became aware of these fears that might've still lingered and affected my behaviors.

So when my then boyfriend told me that emotions can affect others, their comfort and their productivity. Then went on to give an example how it could bother him when he was supposed to work. Told me to settle things myself, keep the peace... I heard what my parents said, "stop crying or we'll leave you." He doesn't want to bear the burden of my (perfectly normal) emotions and he expected his life to be clear of mine. 

Mind you, I can self regulate. But having a partner that equates regulating with shutting down, that cannot be a comforting place to unload (I tried), that isn't willing to recognize his partner as an emotional human being, calling me sensitive as a passing joke -- when I've worked to make "sensitive" a positive attribute of mine.

Honey, the dent my heart took.

I gave it sometime, hoping that with time he would understand better, connect my actions with my values, but no... Emotional awareness doesn't come easy to the busy, nor empathy to the arrogant. 

At one time he had the audacity to call me after one of these unfruitful discussion on emotion and he said, "in my future family, I will focus on God's plan on my life first. So I will not pay much attention to you." Hah? Come again? Tolong, ibu-ibu, kalo lu kenal mantan gue, jangan dipacarin, red flag gila. Jangan goblok juga kayak gue, masih mencoba mencerna keanjingan ini selama 3 bulan.

Some things I am grateful for, I now have another reason to stand my ground, communicate my feelings and needs. So that ridiculousness like these won't come near me again. Good fucking riddance. Another reason, I now have more empathy and respect for people in relationships. Lastly, I can write better too. I can write pain better. Always a good addition to stories.

Maybe, maybe this is where I find a stronger writer's voice.