29!

So about two weeks ago I turned 29. I got lunch at Applebee’s with a couple of my Philly friends, had a good grief cry in my apartment after they left, and then read books on my couch. All in all, it was one of my best birthdays yet. I love quiet time with myself and with people whose company I enjoy much more than flashy or effortful events, so even just spending time in my apartment with myself felt iconic.

One thing I’ve been processing with myself and in some of my previous blog posts is that my life isn’t perfect. For anyone with any ounce of mental stability, you may be thinking to yourself, Thomas, duh, how’d you even get a phd you stupid salacious sycophantic Gaysian sub, no one or very few people have a perfect life.

But for those who’ve read my blog for a little while, you know I grew up with an abusive mother, a financially supportive yet emotionally neglectful father, a laptop in which I used to write explicit Naruto fanfiction during my teen years (wait, this last one isn’t like the others…), blah blah.

Taking Stock

Over the past few sessions of my own therapy, I’ve often told A that my romantic angst “sucks because I’m so used to getting everything I want in every other area of my life.” An amazing group of close friends, an ambitious and meaningful career, a thriving relationship with myself – all of this contrasts with my d*ting life. It’s not that I’m unhappy without a man; I love coming home to an empty apartment, and I’ve told A that on the day-to-day, I often range from a 93% to 98% on the happiness scale.

This week, though, I’ve noticed myself gently pushing back on my cognition that “I’m so used to getting everything I want in every other area of life.”

It’s Weird!

I waited over a month to email the news to my two past long-term therapists. When I said bye to C in June 2022, I had already planned when I’d reach out to both her and L again. It’s perfectly reasonable to email your two therapists who saw you for multiple years when you get your tenure-track job, I thought to myself. It’s just a casual update so they know how you’re doing and so they can hear the good news.

I reached out to C and L with the update in February, a month after I secured my academic and clinical positions.

Wait a Second

A week after I accepted my academic job offer, I started thinking about one of the courses I would teach in fall of 2023. Omg, how should I structure this course? What learning objectives and assignments should I plan out to ensure that it runs smoothly? Omg I haven’t taught this yet what am I doing?? Most of my internal dialogue focused on my lack of experience teaching this particular course and my desire to put in work now to make sure it goes well.

At some point, I paused and practiced cognitive defusion.

Disappointment

A couple of weeks ago I went on a coffee date with a queer Chinese man from my local gay tennis league. This guy loved talking about tennis, so I let him steer the conversation into topics such as: how long we had been playing tennis, how we felt about our performance in the summer challenge ladder, and tennis tournaments taking place in nearby cities. Somehow the conversation shifted into talking about racialized dating preferences. This man proceeded to tell me that he does not find it problematic for queer Asian men to prefer white men over men of other races *and* that he finds white and Asian men more attractive than Black and Latinx men. I felt triggered when he made these racist comments; my body tensed and I felt my heart rate increase. Later in the day I emailed him my recently published peer-reviewed paper on the topic and checked his name off on my mental list of men who I will not associate with in the future.

I talked about this encounter with one of my best friends Bri.

Silver

Last week I went to my local hair salon and got my roots done. The process involves several steps. My stylist: applies a scalp protecting fluid all over my head, paints my roots with bleach in meticulous detail, washes out the bleach, heals my hair with restorative shampoos and conditioners, and finishes by applying toner to get the color just right. After almost getting my hair burned off with my old stylist in early April 2021, I appreciate my current stylist’s level of skill and attention to detail, especially given the difficulty of turning my natural black hair to light blonde in one sitting.

When I went home following my appointment last week, I looked at the mirror after my hair had dried and saw silver.