#25 Book Update 04- What Does Love for My Project Mean?

Getting back up, again and again

Hey friends,

Welcome to my update! This is a series documenting the process of writing and publishing my Chinese memoir that tells the story of me being Taiwanese, and how I perceived my identity changes over time. This includes studying in the States, quitting my 9-5, becoming an online creator and digital nomad, marrying into a white family, and becoming a mother.

This week, I wrote about what it’s like after I started my small experiments to become a fitness coach. I crafted some exciting opportunities for myself, but mostly heartbroken after I discovered working in the fitness industry is not always sunshine and rainbows.

This week’s photo is from the end of my office life era. My coworker gave me a birthday prank by covering my cubicle with my faces photoshopped onto bodybuilders’ bodies. It was one of the most epic birthday surprises I have had.

How much I wrote this week

This week, I wrote 12283 words, with about two thousand words just copied and pasted from what I wrote years ago. I lost steam a bit earlier this week. Fortunately, I could make up the writing hours by spending my precious Sunday writing 5 hours in the cafe.

Reflections

Love for my project

I was beating myself up that I couldn’t write as much this week because I felt so little energy from my hormonal cycle. Luckily, I joined the community call from Brainstorm Road, where we discussed what love for our project means. Upon hearing this question, I realized that “love for my project” doesn't mean always operating in a nearly burn-out mode. It means that I have compassion for myself, knowing that I’m trying my best and can pick myself back up, again and again, till I reach the finish line. I finally think I have a much healthier mentality towards my book writing project. Yay!

Rest and creation

This is especially true when I’m on the lowest turn of my menstrual cycle. I used to bitch about being a woman and having this stupid menstruation that made me depressed 1/3 of the days of my life. But after my pregnancy, I am in awe of my womb. I need to remind myself that my menstrual cycle is actually a powerful mechanism that allows me to create the most incredible thing in the world- human! And I want to give my body more respect by honoring it with more rest next time.

Writing about relationships and motherhood felt weak

Recently, I started to get annoyed by myself about writing too much about my romantic relationship.

“I should write more about writing, or some cooler stuff, like creator economy, or maybe investment (joke).” Writing so much about relationships and motherhood makes me feel so “weak” and “needy,” as if my whole life is solely dependent on people I love and I’m not self-reliant enough.

But this week, I wrote about how I was tired of pretending to be a modern independent female who only cared about her corporate career. I thought I was unloveable because I cared about relationships way more than chasing money, status, or fame. I thought I was flawed until I met my husband, who shared the same values.

I had an epiphany- I was annoyed because I worried I wasn’t seen as successful! But wait, Elizabeth Gilbert will never be shy talking about intimate relationships, and David Whyte will never think he should tone down on writing about vulnerability. Then, why should I feel ashamed talking about my relationship and vulnerability? Ah, fuck that. If I need to tone down writing how much I love my loved ones to be a successful online creator, I would rather be the uncool one.

Snippet of the Week

This snippet is about how I was frustrated with the career transition process but still decided that I needed to keep walking on the path even if I was the only one believing in myself. But soon after I stopped caring about what other people think of my weird career decision, I met my husband who’s also on his pathless path.

那時的我不只轉職遙遙無及，感情上也無敵失敗．訓練完地我沒有加入朋友的宵夜約，自己一個人坐在松山運動中心外面的操場上發呆．場上的大燈打在打在跑道上，我看這悠閒散步的人們和相約練跑的年輕人，覺得自己的孤獨已經到了極限．我拿出手機打開筆記本，把無法向人土的苦水一字幾句記錄在裏頭．

我寫下自己感到既迷失又傷心，我以為自己能得到一個自己想要的職涯、成為一名讓其他女性賦權的教練，但我現在的我卻完全沒有決定職涯下一步的能力．我深信愛的真理，但此刻的我卻不再確信自己是個值得被愛、值得得到愛的人．我不敢告訴家人我得到的健身產業薪資真相，深怕這成為他們更加反對的理由．我感覺自己在孤軍奮戰、被丟到宇宙真空一樣，以誓死也不回頭的決心在走人生轉變的這條路，但卻沒人能理解轉職這件事對我來說多重要．滿受挫折的我，感覺彷彿真實的作自己是一個沒有道德的決定一樣，要面臨失去愛、失去情感支持、失去經濟溫飽的懲罰．

然而儘管如此，清邁的數位遊牧夢已深深扎根在我心裡，我知道自己終究會以自己的力量再回到那塊土地．此時此刻的我知道人生的希望只在我身上，我不能也不想再將被愛的渴求訴諸在他人身上，只有我能作為自己的支持、只有我能給予不會背叛自我的愛．

也許正因為這樣認清了生命主控權在我手中的真理，也不想再假裝我是誰時，老天才終於讓我的人生伴侶米寶現身．

不用再偽裝自己後的海闊天空

還記得在約會軟體上看到米寶自介檔案裡寫著麻省理工商管碩士學歷和麥肯錫工作經驗時，第一個想法是「根據過往經驗，這男的要嘛是渣男、要嘛是騙子、要嘛就是本人跟照片長得不一樣．」即使他宣稱自己是個拋棄傳統職涯、追求不一樣人生的數位遊牧新手，我仍把這樣的創意自介文案歸類為把妹伎倆之一．但這樣的對象在約會市場上是個「高價值商品」，即使僅有約會而不是認真的關係，也像是收集到風光的徽章，可以跟朋友買雞排閒聊時拿來說嘴一波．於是我抱著「管他的」心情，答應赴約了．

見面那天，我穿著在紐約購買的紅色約會戰袍赴約．我一出公司，即看到米寶站在對街等紅綠燈．「OK 本人如照片般人模人樣，那必定是渣男無誤」我非常確信地先幫自己打個預防針．

我們的第一次約會，是約在我的心靈僻靜所吉祥草茶館． 那天我們坐在竹林窗邊和同事訴說轉職決心的同個桌子．我抱著如死灰般毫無期待的心，我慵懶地說著我這個人胸無大志、不想爬什麼企業階梯、也不想成為什麼成功人士．我真正想做的只是追求我對於健身的熱情，在陽光午後坐在舒服的窗前閱讀、在微風吹拂時在河濱騎腳踏車、能夠好好地和在乎的人進行深刻的對話，如此而已．

那時我以為話不多得他，坐在對面是禮貌性地保持微笑．畢竟我看多了像他們那樣有耀眼履歷的男子，他們要找的才不是這種「不負責任」、「胸無大志」的伴侶，而是一個「帶出場不會讓他們丟臉」、有一樣商業野心的女性．但事後我才知道，米寶無語的微笑，是因為他深深的戀愛了．

在單身最後的那幾年，我以為自己已經拋棄了對於特定形態約會對象的喜好，但每次在一個人生階段遇到不錯對象時，才發現我確實是抱著某種預設標準在尋找伴侶的．這些約會對象有成功地創業家、有成績出色的選手、名校教授、數位遊牧者等，但與其說他們填補了我對約會對象條件的隱藏設定，倒不如說他們是我「社會期待下理想版本的自己」的投射：我期望自己能創業、角逐世界級的競賽、能在名校教書 - 但是我辦不到，或者說，我根本沒有心追求這樣的標的物．因此和他們交往，彌補了我無法成為一個「成功的大人」的遺憾．

在自己沒有意識的情況下，帶有這種期望去尋找伴侶最大的代價是：讓自己的人生感到更無力．也就是説，與其開始進行把自己帶往人生新方向的小實驗，我開始把約會市場當成人生救贖的寄託，希望下一個約會對象能將我拯救出不屬於自己的人生．這樣隱晦的寄託，往往讓我開始對浪漫關係有過度的依附情節、合理化一些事業成功的渣男對我的情緒勒所的言語和行為，並再度加深自己確實不值得成功的信念．

但其實相較於無法「成功」，我更害怕地是沒有人能夠接受那個不夠「上進」的真實的我．我害怕讓約會對象知道，我這個人就是沒有什麼企圖心或雄心壯志．我真正想做的只是追求自己當時對於健身的熱情、在陽光微風的午後躺在草地上看書，並且拜訪那些正在招喚我的神秘國土．

有時候我懷疑自己是不是在出生設定時出了什麼錯，讓我對權力、金錢的追求絲毫沒有興趣，這樣天生性格上的「殘缺」讓我「配不上」那些很努力的在爬權力階梯、建立什麼鬼商業帝國的伴侶，也讓我覺得「期待對方向我一樣將親密關係放在人生第一順位」是一件幼稚、不成熟的事．我以為如果我能將自己包裝得光鮮亮麗、能將自己對於親密關係的重視好好地隱藏起來，那「也許」我會遇到一個覺得我「夠成才」的伴侶、「也許」我能將自己訓練成一個有頭有臉的人，「也許」我就能進一步喜歡金錢、喜歡權利、也許變成一個不是自己的人我終將能獲得愛．

但我萬萬想不到，在吉祥草第一次選擇赤裸裸不再武裝自己的我，換來的卻是讓我的靈魂伴侶米寶也不用武裝自己的機會．原來，我們剛好都在終於放棄為別人而活的人生轉換期，遇到了能夠接納真實版本的自己的伴侶．而我胸無大志的揭露，卻是昭示了我們擁有相同人生價值觀的證明．在那段沒有人看好我轉職決定的時間裡，他是唯一一個認為我做了正確選擇的人．他告訴我生命有比爬公司階梯更重要的事，而人生應該花在追求對自己有意義的事情上．他成了我在轉職這段孤立無援期間裡，唯一支持我的人．

Translation (Courtesy of ChatGTP!)

At that time, not only was my career change far from reach, but I also felt invincible failures in my relationships. After training, I didn't join my friends for supper, instead, I sat alone outside the Songshan Sports Center staring into space. The lights illuminated the track, and as I watched people leisurely walking and young runners meeting up, I felt my loneliness had reached its peak. I took out my phone, opened my notebook, and recorded the bitterness I couldn't share with anyone.

I wrote about feeling lost and heartbroken. I thought I could have the career I wanted. I thought I could become a coach empowering other women, but now I felt utterly incapable of deciding the next steps. I held deep to the truth of love, yet doubted if I was still worthy of love, or capable of receiving it. I dared not tell my family the truth about the income in the fitness industry, fearing it would only fuel their opposition further.

I felt like I was fighting a solitary battle, thrown into the void of the universe, determined to move forward without looking back, but no one understood how crucial this career change was for me. Feeling defeated, I felt as if being true to myself was an immoral decision, facing the punishment of losing love, emotional support, and economic stability.

Yet despite all this, the digital nomad dream in Chiang Mai had deeply rooted itself in my heart, knowing I would eventually return to that land on my own terms. In this moment, I knew that hope in life rested solely on me. I couldn't and didn't want to seek validation of love from others anymore; only I could be my own support, only I could give love that wouldn't betray me.

Perhaps it was this recognition of the truth that life's control lay in my hands, and not wanting to pretend anymore, that finally brought my life partner, Paul, into my life.

I remember seeing his profile on the dating app, with his Master's degree from MIT and work experience at McKinsey, and my first thought was, "Based on past experiences, this guy is either a scoundrel, a fraud, or looks nothing like his photos." Even though he claimed to be a digital nomad novice, abandoning traditional careers for a different life, I still classified such a creative self-introduction as one of the many dating tactics. But such individuals were considered "high-value commodities" in the dating market; even if it was just a date and not a serious relationship, it was like collecting a badge of honor to boast about with friends. So, with a "whatever" attitude, I agreed to meet him.

On the day of our meeting, I wore the red date dress I bought in New York. As soon as I left the company, I saw him waiting across the street at the traffic lights. "OK, he looks just like his photos, then he must be a scoundrel," I preemptively protected myself with certainty.

Our first date was at the auspicious grass tea house. That day, we sat by the bamboo window, at the same table where I had disclosed my career change decision with my colleagues. With a heart devoid of expectations, I lazily expressed that I had no grand ambitions, no desire to climb the corporate ladder or become a successful person. All I truly wanted was to pursue my passion for fitness, to read comfortably by the window in the afternoon sun, to ride bicycles along the riverside in the gentle breeze, and to engage in deep conversations with those who mattered to me.

At that time, I thought he was just politely smiling across from me. After all, I had seen too many men with impressive resumes like his, and they weren't looking for someone "irresponsible" or "lacking ambition" like me as a partner. They wanted someone who wouldn't embarrass them in public, someone with similar business ambitions. But later, I realized that his's silent smile was because he had deeply fallen in love.

In the last few years of being single, I thought I had abandoned my preferences for certain types of dating partners. But each time I met a promising candidate at a different stage of life, I realized I did indeed have certain preset standards for a partner. These dates included successful entrepreneurs, outstanding athletes, renowned professors, digital nomads, etc. However, instead of saying they fulfilled some hidden criteria for my dating partner, it would be more accurate to say they were projections of the "ideal version of myself" expected by society: I hoped I could start a business, compete in world-class competitions, or teach at a prestigious university. But I couldn't do it, or rather, I didn't have the desire to pursue such targets. So, being with them compensated for my regret of not becoming a "successful adult."

Unconsciously carrying these expectations while searching for a partner had the greatest cost: it made me feel even more powerless in my life. In other words, instead of embarking on small experiments to steer my life in a new direction, I began to see the dating market as a redemption for my life, hoping that the next date would rescue me from a life that didn't belong to me. This subtle hope often led me to overly attach to romantic relationships, rationalize the emotional manipulation and behavior of some successful but morally questionable men, and deepen my belief that I truly didn't deserve success.

But more than the fear of "failure," I was afraid that no one would accept the real me, who wasn't "ambitious" enough. I was afraid to let my dates know that I was simply not ambitious or driven. All I truly wanted was to pursue my passion for fitness, to lie on the grass reading in the sunshine, and to visit those mysterious lands calling out to me.

Sometimes I wondered if there was a mistake in my birth design, making me completely uninterested in power or money. This innate "deficiency" in my character made me feel "unworthy" of those who were diligently climbing the ladder of success, building some kind of business empire. It also made me feel that expecting someone to prioritize relationships was childish and immature. I thought that if I could package myself as shiny and appealing, if I could hide my emphasis on relationship well, then "maybe" I would meet a partner who would consider me "sufficiently accomplished," "maybe" I could train myself to be someone respectable, "maybe" I could further develop a liking for money, a liking for power, and "maybe" become someone who isn't me, I will finally be loved.

But I never expected that when I chose to be completely vulnerable without any armor for the first time, it would bring me the opportunity for my soulmate to also lay down his defenses. As it turns out, we both happened to be in a transition period of life, finally giving up living for others, and met partners who could accept the true versions of ourselves. And my disclosure of lacking ambition was a declaration of our shared life values. During the time when no one believed in my career change decision, he was the only one who thought I made the right choice. He told me there are things more important in life than climbing the corporate ladder, and life should be spent pursuing things that matter to oneself. He became the only person who supported me during that isolated period of career change.

Preorder my book!

Thanks to ChatGTP for the cover!

Are you interested in my stories? Do you read Chinese or know someone who reads Chinese that will be interested in my book? Now, you can preorder my book for $10! This book, with a tentative title, Made in Taiwan, is estimated to be published in 2024. It will be helpful for anyone who’s exploring who they are and wanting to reinvent their life while battling imposter syndrome. Or anyone interested in living an untraditional life!

Thank you for reading!

See ya next week!

Angie