When I was in junior high, I remember attending
a pastor's retreat. This was something that happened
every summer, sometimes in the winter, but it
was mostly in the summers. Pastors and their
families from my dad's church denomination, that
was the Korean Presbyterian Church of America.
I forget the exact name. They would often...
descend on some desert hot spring at some cheap
motel, or at least that's how it looked, filled
with like hot tubs and pools and such. And they
would just do whatever they did. I actually have
no idea. I just knew that they got together and
it was supposed to be some sort of gathering
with a purpose, but I was a kid, so who knows
what that purpose was. I was already a shy, insecure
kid who would rather not try to engage with others.
fear that I might say or do something stupid.
But I do remember this one particular summer,
I was swimming at the pool when a little kid,
I don't even know who it was. It was like some
elementary school kid. Couldn't have been more
than like nine years old. Looked down from the
side of the pool as I was in the pool, hanging
on to the side. He yelled out, looking down,
like, hey, look, this guy has boobs. I was mortified.
You know, I tried in the moment to act like it
didn't bother me, but the truth was I felt something
I've never felt before, like, to that level,
that degree of shame and embarrassment. I already
thought my face looked kind of goofy, and honestly...
at times really ugly because there was a period
where I had to wear these old man glasses, you
know, like the kind that Walter White wears in
Breaking Bad. Yeah, I had those glasses. Like
I have pictures from my childhood where I'm mortified
that I had those glasses. So I had I had body
image issues already and I was already a fairly
chubby kid. So hearing this from a little kid
was just like, oh, my goodness. I was I just
I just was in shock. Now. I didn't just see myself
as just something that was just kind of like,
there's nothing particularly special. But now
I was super ashamed of myself, my body. I was
unappealing. I was fat. I was gross. My body
was something worth mocking. Now, fast forward
a couple years, and I'm back at one of these
passage retreats. It might have been the same
motel or whatever it was that we were all staying
at. But this time I was a little bit older. I
had gained some height, so which kind of made
me look leaner, I guess. And this time I met
someone new. There's this girl, petite, cute,
kind of had an adorable doll -like voice. Some
other pastor's kid that has never been to one
of these before. And I fell and I fell hard for
this girl. To be honest, I couldn't tell you
why I liked her so much. You know, like, I don't
know if this is the experience of other people,
but when you first start liking somebody, you
don't really know why you like them. You just
know that you do. And I never really thought
too hard about it. And this is just generally,
this is just how it was. I know some people were
different. They actually tried to figure out
why they like somebody. I never really thought
too hard about it. I just thought like, when
you like somebody, you just like somebody. And
as far as I can tell, I don't have a particular
type, like the people that I've been attracted
to in the past just seem to vary significantly
and, you know, all kinds of features. So it wasn't
anything particularly, you know, particular feature.
I just liked who I liked and that's just all
I knew. But of course, you know, she lived a
bit of ways away. I mean, you got to think this
is back at a time when we didn't have like...
you know, cell phones and Ubers and all this,
right? So she lived about an hour plus away.
And, you know, we're both in the ninth grade.
So, you know, clearly we're not going to be driving
to see each other regularly at all. Plus gas
costs money and I didn't have any money. So I
found other ways to try to stay in contact. And
like I said, it's an olden days. So before emails
and so on. So contact was a little bit more difficult.
You had to call via landline. And I remember
it cost per minute. you know, to make these calls.
So I had to be kind of judicious in how long
I spent on the phone. The other option was to
mail physical letters, which was another thing
that I did do. And initially she showed interest
in me. I mean, I don't know if we explicitly
had the conversation about liking each other
or any of that, but it was fairly clear that
there was some mutual interest. There was like
flirty type and, you know. You know what I mean,
right? We would talk on the phone, write letters
from time to time, but it didn't take very long.
I don't know if it was just like a month or two,
but she had lost interest. And I don't know exactly
why. I kind of have a vague recollection that
some kind of explanation was given. I think it's
something about the distance and just not being
able to see each other, which, you know, upon
reflection, maybe that makes a lot of sense.
But I think at the time... I was too focused
on the idea that things were ending. And that
was particularly hard because, like I said, I
fell for this girl pretty hard. This was the
first girl that I really liked like this, right?
I mean, I had small crushes when I was in, like,
third grade, fifth grade, things like that. But
this was the first time that I thought there
was something developing because there was kind
of more of a two -way. It wasn't just a crush,
right? It was somebody who showed interest back.
So it hit me like a ton of bricks. And I didn't
know how to react, you know. I was shell -shocked.
And so I don't even know if I made an effort
to try to win her back or just gave up. I don't
know. I can't even remember exactly how I reacted.
What I never acknowledged, at least not explicitly,
was that I felt rejected. I felt like I was not
someone that girls would remain interested in
for an extended time. Period. Right. That if
I were to open up and then just to show my truest
self, then they would just lose interest. You
know, I think the narrative that formed emotionally
inside me was that I'm not the kind of guy that
girls like. Right. Some people like say things
like, oh, you're the nice guy that people don't
like. Like it wasn't quite that because I wasn't
always nice, but I just wasn't the kind of guy
that girls liked. If girls. Or like I would tell
myself, if girls got to know me, then they might
start losing interest in me. And what I tried
to ignore most was that belief that I was ugly
and unattractive and fat and awkward. I never
really confronted those feelings that were lurking
kind of in the background. And because I tried
so hard not to think about it, I mean, like,
who would want to? It doesn't feel good. to think
about how disgusting you feel looking at yourself
in the mirror, right? These self -perceptions
were there, but not kind of like explicitly present
in my mind. And that's the thing. When these
views that you have of yourself are there, but
just hidden from yourself, right? It shows up
in ways that you act. It shows up in the way
that you react. But you end up trying to twist
the narrative to make it about something else,
right? You make excuses for what you're really
feeling, right? For me, to protect my insecurity,
I told myself that it was something about the
girls, right? That they just never gave me a
chance, that they never really tried to understand
me or get to really know me. So instead of acknowledging
that I felt terrible about myself, I made it
about other people not giving me a chance, right?
I was the one that got rejected. I was the one
that gets dumped. I'm not the one that hurts
other people and turns them down. I'm not the
one that ends relationships because I'm like
the loyal one. They're just not, right? And it's
crazy just how much these lies I told myself
just clouded me from seeing reality. Because
the truth was that there were girls that were
drawn to me, who liked me for who I am. And in
their eyes, I wasn't awkward. I wasn't some ugly
loser. That for them, I was appealing and they
wanted to be with me. But when you're so caught
up in your own lies, it's just kind of hard to
see that. I mean, you can see... My perception
of what others would think of me and that versus
the reality kind of play out in 10th grade. See,
there was this girl that I liked in class. We're
not going to name names here, but she was just
generally a pretty friendly girl, friendly with
guys, girls, it didn't matter. So even when she
did talk to me, I don't think I took it as anything.
In fact, if anything... I was always kind of
guessing, like, does she actually like me? Does
she not? Is this just how she is, right? I mean,
I knew that there was other guys that she talked
to as well, right? But I couldn't tell if it
was just like just friends or if she was actually
interested in one of them. But at some point,
I don't know if it was jealousy or because of
the uncertainty and I was just annoyed by feeling
uncertain about things. I just wanted clarity.
But I decided to at least just put it out there
and I just confessed my feelings to her. I believe
in a letter. And to be honest, I didn't know
what to expect. Maybe a part of me was kind of
expecting rejection because that's, again, the
narrative that I had built up for myself, right?
It's like, I'm the one that gets rejected. So
I guess I was in part expecting that classic,
I just want to be friends speech. But that's
not what happened. It actually turned out that
she liked me and she liked me a lot. But it was
just hard because she wasn't actually allowed
to date. for various reasons. She wasn't allowed
to date, and she had family members that were
at the same school that would probably rat her
out, and then so she would get caught if we were
caught dating or making googly eyes or something
at school, right? So if we were to spend time,
we had to do it kind of in a sneaky, clever way,
right? We would have to spend time. If it was
outside of the school, it had to be in group
settings probably. where it was clear that it
wasn't just the two of us. Sometimes we were
trying to find ways to sneak some time out together
while we're at school, away from prying eyes,
so we could just have some alone time. At first,
I guess there was some excitement around the
sneaking around stuff, but to be honest, at some
point, I found myself kind of annoyed by the
whole situation. Lying is not something that
I think I enjoy doing innately. It's a lot of
work. Lying is a lot of work, right? Sneaking
around is a lot of work. It's just not all that
fun at some point. But more importantly, I found
myself losing interest. And at the time, all
I knew was I was feeling differently towards
her. You know, I don't know if it was just the
situation or if I was going through some other
stuff that was more prominent on my mind. Like
I said, like, you know, it was this was a time
when I was living in Colton and I was just I
was just miserable all the time, regardless.
Right. So regardless, I just I just knew that
I the initial attraction and excitement dissipated.
Maybe that some of that is normal. But of course,
you know, I also know now, like thinking back
on it, I also wasn't very open emotionally, which
means that there wasn't a chance to connect on
some deeper level, right? It wasn't as if we
had a deep, intimate relationship in that sense.
I mean, how could we if I'm withholding that
side of me, right? But I wanted to believe that
I was never the bad guy. Never the one to hurt
other people, but rather the one to kind of receive
hurt. Maybe I was trying to play the hero. I
don't know what. But I didn't want to talk openly
face -to -face to her about it, about the changing
feelings. Instead, I was a coward. I was a true
grade -A bitch. That kind of coward who chose
instead to just... start acting disinterested
and distant in the hopes that she would get the
point, right? You know, I think in my mind, I
had thought at the time that I was doing her
a favor. This is some twisted shit, right? That
I was doing her a favor by not making it explicit
that I wanted to end things and then explaining
myself like that it was for her to spare her
feelings. If I were to be honest about it, I
was just a bitch. I was just a coward. And to
be honest, I don't know what I hate more now,
looking back on it. The fact that I acted like
such a bitch or the fact that I didn't acknowledge
to myself that I was being a bitch. The fact
that I was lying to myself and couldn't see that
I was actually being a coward. You know, I thought...
I think now, like maybe if I had some good friends
that I, because I didn't really talk about this
relationship with other people, but, you know,
I wonder if I had developed better, like, you
know, you know, friendships where I could talk
to somebody about it. Maybe they would have been
honest and hold me accountable and, you know,
made me or pressured me into facing up to what
I was doing. But of course I didn't really open
up to anyone. So I. What was nice is I could
get away with anything as long as I just didn't
acknowledge it to myself. I just needed to lie
to myself. And then I would feel better about
myself. And the pattern didn't change in college.
I mean, people's behaviors don't change unless
you actually face whatever it is that's leading
to that behavior. So I just did more of the same
in college. I kept on lying to myself. and said
I was the kind of guy that got rejected. But
the truth was, I mean, the reality was very different.
I actually had no problems getting dates. I mean,
I did get rejected a lot, but that was partly
because I was casting a fairly wide net, and
I was just asking people out left and right,
doing dumb shit to try to just connect with anybody
to cast as wide a net as possible to see if anybody
might be interested. But that just showed I just
didn't have any. real standards right like it
wasn't really about what i was interested in
is more about who would accept me um i mean you
got to remember like i still believe in my own
head i just felt i just viewed myself as so low
i felt so low about myself right um i still felt
like that fat ugly kid uh even though others
might not say i think so um and i also thought
of myself as More or less the kind of person
who didn't hurt other people that would give
anyone a chance, right? That was interested in
me. So I did do that. I just gave anyone a chance,
even if I might not have been very interested.
Again, the twisted thing is I thought that I
was doing them a favor, that I was going above
and beyond being a good person. But the reality
was instead I was probably misleading them, right?
So here I was giving girls here, there, everywhere
the impression that I was more interested than
I probably was. engaging them physically to appease
my own insecurities, not necessarily for them,
but it was more to just help myself feel better,
then honestly, I guess the term for it would
be ghosting them instead of talking things out
with them. Because I was too afraid to admit
to myself that I was the one who was ending things.
Maybe because that memory of having that done
to me, I thought that was... an awful thing that
people can do. Like I would don't want to do
it to other people. And it's crazy how much I
would twist the situations to make myself look
better than I was. But the reality was simple.
Instead of dealing with my own insecurities,
I just hurt women by misleading them and using
them so that I can feel better about myself.
I was a fucking asshole. And the worst kind of
asshole, the asshole that's in denial about his
assholatry. I don't even know if that's a word,
but That's really what it was. I mean, you would
think that dating around a lot would make me
at least a little bit less insecure. That maybe
that reality of having gotten dates would make
me feel like, oh, hey, maybe I was wrong about
this narrative that I've had for myself. That
maybe I should have some confidence that I am
someone that someone could find attractive or
interesting. we're spending time and energy on.
But if you're sensing a theme in any of these
stories that I've been telling, it's that I at
least was constantly lying to myself to protect
my own ego, my own pride, my own sense of self,
a distorted sense of superiority. My goodness,
I feel like I'm describing a narcissist, and
maybe that's exactly what I have been this whole
time. And these lies were so prevalent and powerful
that, like, you know, Unless I actually did the
hard work to kind of face it head on, it just
continues to do its thing in distorting reality
on my behalf. So like all things in life, what
I needed was something to just smack me upside
the face and then grab my head, stick it next
to a mirror, and then force me to kind of see
myself for who I really am. And it didn't come
until my 20s, during my PhD years. At the time,
I remember, what was it, like a second year in
the PhD program? First year, second year. I was
introduced to somebody. I forget exactly how
the introduction happened. Somebody set me up
on some blind date or something. And honestly,
I went just to be nice. I wasn't all that interested,
but I met this person and I wasn't interested
in them all that much. But I stayed in it because
I felt like the longer I was... Spending time
with this person, the more I felt like I was
a good boyfriend in that relationship. Or at
least that's what I believed, right? I felt good
about myself through the way that I would treat
her. But the truth was, it wasn't necessarily
because I liked her all that much. It was more
like the way that I felt in the relationship.
But... That only lasts for so long, right? Eventually,
I lost all interest and I wanted to end things.
So it was, again, the same pattern. It was the
same pattern. But one thing that was different
was I think I stayed in this longer than I have
in any of the other quote -unquote relationships
that I've had. I mean, relationship is not the
best word for what I was doing before. But this
is the longest that I've been with somebody.
And given that, I felt like... you know, at least
ending things, I should at least do it the quote
unquote right way through at least a conversation.
I did it through the phone. It was the first
time I had initiated a talk like this. You know,
the one where you say it's not you, it's me.
I've always let others do that to me if it happened
at all. Sometimes I would twist the situation
so that they would dump me. If it came to that.
But this time I just wanted to do it. I mean,
part of it honestly was that I wanted to end
it quickly instead of dragging it out. But I
also know that I was doing it at probably the
worst possible time. I mean, she was at the time
going through. You know, a really tough time
with a lot of stress at her own graduate program.
And so there's a lot of stuff happening outside
of the relationship that was already weighing
on her. And I didn't give any warning. It's not
as if she saw it coming. It was just complete
blindside. She was completely blindsided. It
was just a phone call and a blunt statement saying
that I can't continue in this relationship. And
she understandably cried and was confused. was
wanting to have some sort of explanation to at
least get a grip of what in the fuck was happening
and why it was happening. But I heard her crying
over the phone and I felt like shit. I felt like
shit in a way that I've never felt before. I
never wanted to believe that I was capable of
causing someone so much pain. It was worse than
being rejected. At least if you're rejected,
there's somebody you can just blame, right? You
could be mad at the other person, but you can
be mad, you can be resentful, you can direct
all these feelings outwards. But here, there's
only one person that I could see as responsible
for this pain, and that was me. You know, I just,
these questions just ran through my mind. Like,
why did I let it get so far? Like, it's not as
if I didn't have a sense fairly early that things
wouldn't work out, that I wasn't all that interested.
I mean, I was aware of all this, you know, why
did I stay in this thinking that it might work
out, right? Or if I didn't know early on. then
I should have spent some time to at least think
about it and to see it instead of letting all
these feelings get deeper or the sense of commitment
and connection get deeper before doing this.
This is just waiting this long just made the
pain so much worse. I mean, the signs have always
been there. I just ignored them. I hated myself
so much. And what made it even worse was that
she was so gracious about it all. I mean, even
after I left her deeply hurt and confused, without
any explanations of why I ended things or where
this all started or without even giving it another
chance or even having a conversation about the
details of what was happening. You know, it was
after only a few weeks where she sent me this
letter in a care package letting me know that
even though she doesn't understand, she's still
confused. That she was grateful for the time
that we had together. And that she wishes the
best for me. And I felt even worse. You know,
it's funny, when I got rejected, I never responded
in that way. I never responded that way. I was
so quick to just be angry and blame and be mad
and hurt. I never thought to take a moment to
see the good in the time that we might have had
together. Or if I was just straight up rejected
from the very beginning, it was, you know, at
least the fact that they had shown consideration
and it wasn't just like a heartless no, right?
I cried for days. And I just lost all interest
in dating. I just lost all interest in dating.
I was depressed. Probably not really aware of
just how depressed I was, but I was depressed.
I mean, at least all the physiological symptoms
were there. And I was lost. At least when it
came to dating relationships, I was just lost.
I was feeling shitty about myself. But now it
was for a whole different reason. I didn't feel
shitty about myself in the sense that I felt
like ugly or, you know, unattractive or anything
like that. I just felt like I was the biggest
asshole in the world. I couldn't deny it. I was
inconsiderate. I was immature. I handled this
just so poorly. And I had to face what I did
because it just smacked me on my head so hard.
I just, there was no denying it. I mean, you
would think that the experiencing, this experience
would be humbling enough that it would be a great
learning opportunity that maybe things would
have, I would have done a big 180. And, you know,
I mean, I guess I learned a few things, but the
truth is that. Changing behavior is hard and
changing old lies, old narratives are hard. So,
you know, even though I think I became a little
bit more thoughtful in my dating life afterwards,
once I was able to kind of get back on my feet
and get back into the dating world, it became
clear when I got married that I hadn't addressed
all of the things that were going on in me. Marriage
does something to you. When you get married,
forget about the legality of it all. I think
there's something about the commitment to marriage
and the kind of situation you put yourself in
when you do get married, when everything about
your lives get intertwined in this way, that
you leave yourself exposed in ways you never
have been exposed before. And it became much
more exposing for me because I happen to have
married a psychologist, someone who is both understanding
and very perceptive when it comes to feelings.
And also, I happen to marry somebody who is very
good about holding people accountable. So she
saw through my bullshit. And as she spent...
More time with me, she saw through the bullshit
I was throwing at her even more clearly. And
the bullshit here I'm referring to is the kind
of twisted narratives that I wanted to tell myself,
to give myself excuses for feeling a certain
way or to be in denial about how I was really
feeling. You know, when I was too absorbed in
my own feelings and feeling hurt or slighted
by something she said. I played the same story
out of my head. I tell myself, she's mean, but
I'm going to be the bigger person and absorb
it. But the truth was, as always, I was a coward
who didn't have the strength to just address
whatever issue I had with her and to just address
it head on, to talk about it openly. Even something
as simple as just admitting that I was hurt by
something she said. I couldn't even do that.
And when she was hurt by something I did, I was,
my ego felt so threatened that I tried hard to
find a way to make her pain go away or to make
it out as if her pain just doesn't make any sense.
Like it's like her own issue. It's not anything
about what I did to her. I did all this because
I wanted her pain to go away so that I felt better.
And as a result, like instead of actually sitting
with her and understanding her experience and
experiencing. and really getting kind of a feel
for the experience she had, right? To get a feel
for how she was hurting. I just left her all
alone to deal with not only her hurt, but also
then trying to carry mine because now she's like
having to fight against my narrative of saying
that she doesn't have a good reason to be hurt
so much or like her hurt doesn't make sense or,
you know, yeah, you're hurt, but let's go ahead
and just try to just, you know, wipe it clean.
Let's figure out something to do to make that
pain just go away. When what she needed was just
for me to understand her pain. And that wasn't
fair to her. She really deserved better. I mean,
anyone deserves better. But, you know, especially
if you marry and commit yourself in this way
to love and honor somebody like that person deserves
far better. And there's only one reason that
we're separated now. I never got my shit together.
And I never owned up to who I was. All she wanted
was honesty for me, honesty for me, and for me
to just kind of own up to my feelings and shortcomings.
You know, she can be very forgiving if I just
acknowledge how I screwed up and then take responsibility
for it. But all I want to do was to try to find
ways to get out of my part in things, my responsibilities.
I made it about her. I made it about everyone
else. It was my greatest regret. It is my greatest
regret. It was. It is my greatest regret. I mean,
who I was throughout the entire marriage. But
this is how I've always been. Always late in
addressing my own shit. And in the meantime,
leaving a trail of pain. And destruction for
others to deal with. And the one lesson that
I always seem to fail to learn is that once I've
done what I've done, there's no going back. There's
no undoing what you did. There's no undoing the
impact you left. And that's how I know that,
you know, it's going to be something different.
Even if... I mean, I doubt that there's any going
back now. But even if there was a path to going
back, it would still be very different. There's
just no other way. Because once history is made,
it's made. And there's no undoing all that pain
and hurt that I caused. To all the girls that
I dated, I'm sorry. for leaving you without clarity,
without answers, for leaving you without any
closure. I didn't care or respect you enough
to give you anything beyond some made -up image
that I had of myself. You never got a chance
to see my truest self, the good, the bad, the
ugly. Or if you did see it, I would lie to you
about it. I have no excuses. This isn't about
me being young or needing to make these mistakes
to learn and grow. No, this was just me being
a bitch. Plain and simple. And you shouldn't
have had to pay for my immaturity and cowardice.
That's not on you. And maybe it's too late for
apologies. I want to believe that people are
resilient and that I wasn't worth the trouble
that you've moved on long ago. Even if late,
I wanted to offer you the truth. And if there's
still any anger, pain, resentment that you still
feel in your heart, I'm here. I'll be here to
hear it all, if anything, so that you can get
that closure that I wasn't able to give you to
have a little bit more peace about the past.
But more than anything, I would want you to know
that you were worth more than how I treated you.
And to my now ex -partner, I don't know if you'll
ever hear this, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry that
you've had to experience the worst of me. That
I didn't take the time to... acknowledge who
I was, how broken I was, how insecure I was,
and that my own shit just bled out into the marriage,
and that I had cut you so deeply, wounded you
again and again and again over those years, that
even now I'm probably still doing the same. And
I, there's no undoing it. There's no making up
for it. There's no taking away of those scars.
And there's nothing I know that I can do now
to, you know, make any of that at least a little
bit more palatable. Because I remember just how
painful those times were. I remember the tears,
the screaming, the yelling. The madness. I mean,
there were good times, but it often felt like
the pain and the hurt just overshadows so much
of it. And the fact that I had left you with
those memories to deal with for the rest of your
life, I am deeply sorry. I wish that I had worked
on myself earlier, before I even met you. When
I had all the opportunities I did from all the
experiences that I've had, like, there were plenty
of opportunities. And instead of your getting
the better version after I have grown and learned
from it all, you got the still shitty version.
And in fact, you got it in the worst way. For
that, I'm deeply sorry. I hope one day that there
could at least be some peace. and knowing that
your hurt doesn't go unnoticed, that your scars
don't go unseen, and that one day maybe you could
find what you didn't get from me all those years
ago.