Friday. Where has April gone? It’s going by so fast. I can’t believe it’s halfway over already.

Yesterday I woke up and decided to take back control of my life. I did the only thing I could think of: packed up my yoga mat and a notebook in my backpack, picked up 2 liters of water from 7-11, and headed straight for The Peak.

As previously stated, I love to use the metaphor of working my way to top as my meditation when I climb The Peak. The first time I took the tram up to the halfway point, walked halfway downhill, turned around and walked back uphill, then around the mid-point, then up to the top. Took the entire day.

The second time, I was stewing too much over everything, so I started at the very bottom of the hill (my apartment) and worked my way through the Mid-Levels all the way to the highest point of The Peak. As per usual, I got lost, somehow, which added an extra hour to my time.

I was desperate, so I enlisted the help of the character version of the Hot Beef Stew to coach me all the way to the top. There was a lot of complaining on my end. I was very much out-of-shape. I needed to be bribed the entire way with an imaginary Five Guys bag. I kept stopping to write the story about him. It took forever! But I got my Five Guys in the end, so it was worth it.

Yesterday, I did not enlist the help of my imaginary GAA coach to assist me in my mission of walking up this very big hill. Instead, I used the time to alternate between trying to sweat The Russian out of my system and reflecting on my time in SEA.

Where have I been? Where am I now? Where will I be in the future?

It was a very good day. I didn’t got lost. I got my walk time down, even on the second section of the walk, aka Old Peak Road. Old Peak Road is a bitch! It’s soooooo steep. There are times when it’s actually easier to turn around and walk backwards up the hill. I have to stop every 5 minutes on that section. That section alone tests my grit and determination in ways I didn’t know could be tested. I can’t even tell you how cathartic it is to finally reach the mid-point.

The mid-point trail is easy; you’re basically just cruising around in a circle on flat ground, enjoying the view. The climb to the top is much, much easier because it’s less steep and there are different scenic trails you can take. But Old Peak Road? No. Fuck Old Peak Road. Old Peak Road SUCKS! That’s why it feels so good when I get to the top of it.

There is a beautiful little park up at the top of the Peak filled with birds and butterflies and flowers and plants. There are little pagodas everywhere to sit in. It’s the perfect place to have an outdoor wedding. For my purposes, I turned one of the little pagodas into a yoga shala and went full yogi meditation mode. It was so quiet, so peaceful. Exactly what I needed yesterday. Lots of sweat, lots of meditation.

Forget this guy! Onto the next one, onto the next one!

Well, it’s not that easy. I am so tired of dating. I’m tired of the constant revolving door of men. I just want to be with one person for awhile. Very hard to find these days! Everyone is in constant swipe-right mode. One little imperfection and it’s onto the next one! It’s almost as hard to be optimistic about finding a relationship as it is to be optimistic about finding a job in this hilariously bad job market.

I am trying, though. That is why I went to The Peak. I took time to appreciate the views of the city. I took time to express gratitude to the universe for bringing me to Hong Kong. I reflected on all of the good things, the bad things, the messy things. I thought about the fact that I am generally much happier here than I ever was in South Dakota, even on the days when I don’t feel the best.

I cleared it all out, sent it all away on a cloud, and focused in on the specific vision of my life I want to manifest. It comes in bits and pieces. Right now I am focused on the most important piece, which is stability. Oh, god, do I crave stability. No more packing up to move every few months. No more revolving door of men. No more job hopping. I just want to go back to school and write, write, write, and find a partner who will actually stick around and support my various creative endeavors. And then in return he gets lots of hot sex and a beautifully decorated apartment to come home to every night. They say this is what they want, and yet…

Obviously, I have no control over that aspect. I do have control over the school thing though, so I just need to find a way to go back to school and acquire the financial aid I need to pay for it. It’s not impossible. People do it all the time. I can definitely make this happen.

In the meantime, I am focused on being grateful that I no longer live in South Dakota. No one makes fun of my outfits (because here the way I dress is considered “normal”). I can go to a coffee shop or bar and be welcomed in by the friendly staff and owners who know me personally. I get to go out on dates with sexy, attractive men who dress nice and smell good. There is no small town drama, no cruelty, no bullying, no gossip, no fake nice two-faced bullshit, no targeted smear campaign created for the sole purpose of protecting rapists and predators. Everyone is busy with their own lives and it shows.

I especially look forward to the idea of going to a university where people don’t talk shit about me behind my back because I actually raised my hand to answer the professor’s questions instead of sitting there blankly staring at the wall. I dream of a place where I can make friends and join clubs and participate in activities without being shunned for being different. A place where I can meet people from all over the world and take the classes I want to take and learn the things I want to learn and no one will be there to sabotage any of it.

Very idealistic and optimistic, I know. But I think it’s possible. True, there are a lot of assholes in the world. There are definitely assholes here in Hong Kong. I’ve seen them. I’ve met them. I left my job because I had no tolerance for the racism, bullying, and generally toxic attitudes and behaviors of the South Africans. I refuse to go back to The Wolf or The Sketchy Place because of the assholes I met there.

The world is not a perfect place. Hong Kong is not a perfect place. It has its negatives for sure, but the negatives are still better than the negatives of living in a small town in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, South Dakota, where everyone acts like they’re in a cult and outsiders of all kinds are considered “bad.” Sometimes I look back on it all and think to myself, “I can’t believe I tolerated that much bad treatment for so long.”

At the end of my date with The Russian, he decided to lecture me about three things. I hate being lectured, by the way, especially by strangers, and especially by men. So you can imagine that being lectured by someone in the middle of some weird roleplay game I didn’t exactly understand was really fucking annoying, and honestly broke me out of the entire scenario. I was like, “Fuck this shit.” I didn’t want to listen to anything he was saying at all. I just wanted to whack him with the pillow and tell him to shut the fuck up and take his stupid nap while I go get in the giant tub.

That being said, he was right about his first point, which is that I should be kinder to myself. This is a very bold statement from someone who took me to a bar that looks like an old timey opium den/brothel/sex dungeon for a date! Oh, so, this is the vibe you’re generally going for, yet you are sitting here judging me for participating? That’s so not cool, bro! Someone needs to be a little more woke when it comes to their sexuality, lol.

Anyway, that criticism aside, he is right. I should be kinder to myself. It’s just that my self-esteem has been chipped away over the years by my abusive family, the cult-like attitude of the small town I was trapped in for way too long, and the questionable relationships I’ve had with men. So now I’m in a place where I have to make up for that deficiency. I’m trying to figure out who I am and who I want to be and how to accept my life for what it is. Radical self-acceptance is the key.

His other two pieces of advice were less inspiring. He told me I need to call my grandmother and that I need to go freeze my eggs ASAP. Dude, the egg-freezing thing was so weird. Why does this random man care so much about MY ovaries when he’s just going to get on a plane and block me as soon as he sets foot back in Switzerland? That’s so annoying! So annoying. What game are we playing here, again? How did we go from Pretty Woman to Fertility Doctor in the span of five minutes? What the fuck is going on here?

As for the advice about calling my grandmother… meh. There’s no point. We have nothing to talk about. She thinks life should be lived one way and one way only, and I do not live my life that way. She’ll tell me to stop writing, and I’ll say, “No.” She will ask me to change everything about who I am as a person, and I will say, “Why can’t you just accept me for who I am? That’s what Jesus would do!” Then she’ll get upset and blame me for her mood without ever taking any accountability whatsoever.

In my family, the problem is ALWAYS me. No one ever has to take accountability for the shitty things they say and do to hurt me. It’s always my reaction to their behavior that is the problem. I am not supposed to stand up for myself, set clear boundaries, or communicate how I feel about anything, ever. I’m just supposed to sit still, stay quiet, and do whatever I’m told. Keep sweet, pray and obey, god’s love is everything, blah blah blah, just kill me now.

Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, bro. But thanks for the “advice,” I guess?

I’ll just stick with the whole “being kinder to myself” thing. Guess that means saying NO to dates with guys like him, right? Right.

Congratulations, bro, you played yourself. No more old timey opium den-inspired sex dungeon fantasies for you! Next time, you’ll actually have to pay a professional for that!

Anyway, forget him. He sucks.

Had to pause my writing to chat with one of the baristas at my favourite coffee shop. It is her day off today so she came in to load up on snacks before she goes to class. She is studying filmmaking. She wants to be a producer. We have a lot in common.

She was saying she doesn’t feel confident with her English, so I was encouraging her to practice with me. She’s way better than she thinks she is. She explained that she lacks confidence because her family taught her to be quiet and introverted. Same, same! I was just writing about that same exact topic! I definitely feel less alone after that conversation.

She was surprised that I was struggling with the same confidence issue. She was like, “But you’re American! Americans are SO confident! You’re so friendly and open. You don’t have any problem talking to anyone! I wish I could be as confident as you are!”

True, but I have to work really hard on that. If you see me around my family, I am NOT the same person, like… at all. They even said to me in Bangkok, “It’s crazy how different you are now than when we first met you. You were sitting in the corner alone, all curled up, terrified to talk to anyone. Now you just waltz right in like this entire room full of men isn’t absolutely terrified of YOU.”

True, true, true.

And obviously confident enough to be going on dates to old timey opium dens with sexy Russians dressed in leather. And then write it about all with ZERO shame whatsoever!

It is what it is!

Off now. Gotta go back and clean up my studio, again. Sadly, I will probably not be attending the Hong Kong Sevens rugby tournament this weekend, even though it’s one of HK’s biggest events. No one to go with, no tickets, not the kind of party one can simply just attend on their own.

Or maybe I’ll get lucky and someone will extend a last minute invite to a junk boat party! Looking at you, Neighbor Guy!

Alas. Maybe next year…