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Thursday, May 31, 2018

The Sheep on The Train



The woman got on the train and slid right into the bathroom. "Oh okay," I thought to myself, "So that's how you do it." One stop later, about 8 minutes away, I got off the train and saw her sliding out from the bathroom, getting off on the same station as I did.

She was avoiding to pay the fare. I know because I was tempted to do so, and because there was literally no bathroom activity can be heard throughout the trip. She has her reason to do it, and I have my reason to not do it. And trust me, it was very, very tempting to do it.

I don't hide in the bathroom, but just like this afternoon my fingers would hover on the phone screen, tempted to not hit the purchase button until a conductor made their round to check the tickets. "It's only one stop away," I would say to myself, or "It's only $4.50".

When it's the longer, more expensive route, I argued that the money can be spent elsewhere. I argued that I made little money, anyway. I argued that the government made more than I do. I argued that my measly fare doesn't make a difference.

But then I would think of how inconvenient and embarrassing if I somehow got caught. I would think of how shameful it would be to be a part of the problem that bleed the benefit of public transportation, when I have the means to not do it.

And my pride, my haughty stubborn pride, would yell at me in such disdain and scorn: "Don't even think of using goods or service that you are not willing to pay. You are better than that." I usually hit the pay button pretty damn fast after.

What matters, what shows our true color is never about what we do when authority is around. It is about what we do when there is no one there to judge or govern us. One's integrity and moral values will always be intact, with or without anyone to witness it.

Among the noise and the cacophony, the question that we should always ask ourselves is what kind of person we want to be. If our reasoning is removed from our action, if the action becomes a mere black and white bare fact, will we still be ok with it?

The temptation to dodge the law, to break the rules, will always be there. A part of it is for the thrill, the "F*ck the authority" kind of feeling. A part of it is because we somehow feel we're above the rule. It's a stupid rule, anyway.

I learned that there is always a reason why a certain rule is implemented. A rule usually becomes a rule only when people abuse it, like the ruling that it's illegal for cops to have sex with the people they detained. You'd think it's common sense.

Or on the lighter side, the reason why Reese's Peanut Butter has to state "Contain Peanuts" is because every food product has to state the allergen it may contain. It looks stupid but it's there for a reason, and it'll be too confusing to make exceptions.

I am aware there are people that have to break the laws because there is no other way, and I honestly can't speak on their behalf. But for those who can afford to follow the rule, why not do so? Especially if it's only a matter of comfort or ease.

I believe that to have a good government everybody has to be involved and take part of it. There is no point of dodging the fare, for instance, on the pretext of you already paid too much tax because the deficit will only affect the budget and consequently your tax.

Everything is connected to one another. It is unwise to approach an issue rebeliously with only seeing one side and not the whole connecting picture, or without understanding why the said law/rule was put in place. 

I know, right? What a sheep. But as I don't need to spend the trip in fear that I will get caught, and I also don't need to go on a guilt trip thinking that I took advantage of the system when I absolutely don't need to, I think being a sheep is just fine.

#Pride, #Integrity, and #CommonSense y'all.

Monday, May 28, 2018

Sex, Games, and Swings



I went board gaming yesterday. We did 3 games over 3-4 hours course. All were strategy-based games, which involves plenty of mental energy both to understand the mechanism in order to play, and also to outpace your opponents.

Even with a leisurely lunch break, by the end of the games, I was exhausted. And fulfilled. It's like a good, long session of satisfying sex. I mentioned that to my friend. He pointed out that I also said swing dancing is like sex. Oh.

I did tell him that. In a way, dancing is like sex. The flirt that comes with the music, the physical contact as you move together with the rhythm, the thought you put into it until you lost yourself in the moment. Find yourself a good partner and it will be oh so rewarding.

Come to think about it, a lot of things feel like, and as satisfying as, sex to me. I sat on my bed thinking hard about this. Am I just an overtly sexual (read: perpetually horny) woman? Not that there's anything wrong with that.

But what if it is the other way around? What if in my mind I use the concept of sex to described the standard for passion and fulfillment? So it's not about the sex, it's about what can you achieve in various activities.

Sex is the ultimate sensory experience. In a good session, our five senses were heightened with the emotion, whilst our body works itself automatically in series of physical responses and our mind mentally calculated the way to get to the climax.

It really can't be any more immersive than that. That one, sweet, intoxicating feeling where you give everything out and simply lost yourself, body and soul, at The Moment. It's that plunge from the cliff into the blue ravine below.

That's how good board gaming feels to me. Or good swing dancing. Even though I am not at all extremely good at it. There were times when other board gamers or swing dancers looked at me in disdain as I fumbled my steps.

But I won't stop just because I am not good at it. It was never to be the ultimate one, it was always about enjoying, and get lost in, The Moment. Don't we all need it? In the time of hardship and confusion, don't we all need to feel like human again, whole and fulfilled?

It can be a leisurely walk next to the waterway, or a night in with cheap wine and discounted cheese. It can be splurging on fancy shoes and five-star dinners. It can be a party with hundreds of strangers or a good nap on the sofa with the person you like.

The activity itself doesn't matter much. It's how you feel about it that matters. It's the amount of enjoyment that you can get from it, both physically and mentally, that matters. It's the "Whoa..." and the stupid satisfied grin after it that matters.

Putting your heart into things, giving it all you got, is scary. What if it doesn't work out? What if it's not worth the trouble? Why should I do it anyway? Because it is worth it. Because it is not a race, but an experience. Because feeling alive is incredible.

I have been known to exchange a night of dancing in favor to sleeping at home. It's ok. That works too. It can be anything that brings you closer to yourself, anything that can unite your mind, your spirit, your body, and your soul.

Listen to yourself: what you want, what you feel. Be brave. Let yourself go to what your heart desire. And yes, dear readers. Be alive. Be f*cking alive.

Saturday, May 26, 2018

Pede dan Sepatu




Nggak sangka ternyata saya sampai di titik dimana saya punya terlalu banyak sepatu. Jeng jeng jeng.

Yang sneakers. Yang sandal manis. Yang sepatu flat. Yang high heels. Yang boots. Warna warni. Warna gelap. Tali temali. Jangan ditanya koleksi beha dan baju dalam seksi saya. Padahal badan cuma satu dan kaki cuma dua.

Buat saya ini signifikan banget. Jaman dulu saya nggak mau beli sepatu kecuali kepepet. Itu juga belinya yang yakin bisa dipakai berulang kali. Faktor ke-kere-an mempengaruhi, tapi faktor ketidak-pedean juga besar.

Alasannya selalu "Sayang duitnya, mending dipakai yang lain". Terjemahannya adalah "Toh gue ga pantas. Mau dipakai kemana juga?" Tahu diri lho kaki saya nggak mulus, betis segede talas, naik turun bus pula. Bukan kaki ala Dian Sastro pokoknya.

Tapi disini setelah kembali melajang, saya peduli setan. Elu nggak suka ya ga usah lihat. Yang penting saya suka melihat saya pakai sepatu pilihan saya. Dan ini membuat perbedaan yang luar biasa lho.

Saat kita berjalan dengan percaya diri, dengan mengetahui kita merasa cantik dengan pilihan kita, itu pula yang akan ditangkap orang sekitar kita. Kita kelihatan keren di mata orang lain. Walau hanya pakai high heel seharga paket MakDe.

Tapi pede dan nyaman dengan diri sendiri ini susah dapatnya, apalagi kalau sekeliling kita nggak pede. Yang ada kita terus mendengar suara sumbang, terus berusaha dibawa ke level/situasi yang menurut sekeliling kita 'normal'.

Nyebelin kan? Saya rasa saya nggak sendiri. Pasti banyak dari para pembaca yang sempat mendengar "Aduh, nanti apa kata orang?!" Atau mungkin justru para pembaca yang gencar mengkritik err mengingatkan agar teman anda nggak ditertawakan.

Prinsip saya sih, kalau nggak membahayakan, ya udah mingkem saja. Jangan komen. Mau pakai heels/sepatu hak di acara piknik ke kebun raya, boleh lah diingatkan. Tapi kalau cuma mencibir dan bilang "Elu ga pantes ah pakai heels" yuk silakan ke laut.

Sebaliknya, jadilah pribadi yang selalu mendukung. Semua orang butuh merasa nyaman dengan dirinya, jadi jangan jatuhkan orang hanya karena anda yang nggak pede. Bedakan antara kritikan yang membangun dan cibiran jutek.

Dan boleh lho berbeda. Boleh lho punya selera berbeda dengan orang kebanyakan. Yang merasa 'normal' nggak usah merasa terancam, yang merasa 'beda' nggak perlu sibuk menutupi. Selama nggak merugikan orang lain, selera kita ya hak kita.

Rasanya luar biasa sekali bengong memilih mau pakai sepatu yang mana untuk pergi malam ini. Biasanya pilihannya cuma sandal jepit ato sepatu keds hahaha. Ini rasa kebebasan yang sebenarnya. Bebas menjadi diri sendiri. Menakjubkan.

Semoga para pembaca akan bisa menemukan dan merasakan kebebasan ini. Jangan menyerah ya, para pembaca. Salam pede dari Los Angeles.

Thursday, May 24, 2018

Pelajaran di Kapal Pesiar



Kemarin saya 'pulang kampung'. Resminya sih tur di kapal pesiar, tapi berhubung banyak banget kru kapal pesiarnya orang Indonesia, berasa seperti di Indonesia hahaha. Bedanya hanya saya nggak diliatin saat pakai bikini dan ganjen kanan kiri. Paling nggak sampai mereka lihat nama di kartu kamar saya. Ups.

Waktu saya di Indonesia dulu, kru kapal pesiar identik dengan uang cepat dan kelakuan yang syalala. Konotasinya kadang suka jelek, apalagi untuk yang perempuan. Berapa kali ditawari teman untuk kenalan dengan kru kapal pesiar, saya yang malas.

Tapi di pesiar ini pandangan saya berubah. Para kru ini ramah dan baik banget sama saya. Nggak tahu apa karena saya kebetulan tamu, atau karena pada syok saya dengan manis menyapa mereka kanan-kiri dengan Bahasa Indonesia. Orang rumah, gitu. Jadi bikin kangen rumah.

Apapun alasannya, untuk pertama kalinya saya sadar bahwa pekerjaan mereka sangat berat. Jam kerja yang panjang, tempat kerja yang sempit dan terbatasi, belum lagi tamu yang kadang minta dijitak. Pengalaman cruise/pesiar saya nyaris tak bercela, yang berarti para kru ini bekerja semaksimal mungkin.

Hebat kan? Saya beruntung bisa punya kesempatan untuk mengamati mereka seperti itu. Tapi bukan hanya mereka. Coba anda pikir, semua lapangan pekerjaan apapun mungkin terlihat berbeda bilamana anda mau membuka hati dan pikiran anda. Melihat apa yang mereka capai dan mampu lakukan.

Di Bali akan segera Galungan dan Kuningan. Umat Muslim pun segera menyambut Lebaran. Saat kita duduk bertemu sanak saudara dari berbagai lapangan pekerjaan, terutama yang bekerja jauh dan/atau yang berkelebihan, apa yang kita pikirkan? Atau yang pekerjaannya menurut kita nggak banget?

Pada akhirnya, apa yang kita lakukan adalah cerminan diri kita sendiri. Apakah kita akan melihatnya sebagai dompet berjalan, apakah kita akan melihatnya sebagai orang rendahan, itu semua cerminan diri kita. Dan di hari raya ini, nggak ada saat yang lebih tepat untuk merenungkan hal ini. 

Bukan berarti orang-orang ini nggak mungkin brengsek ya. Semua orang pada dasarnya brengsek. Percaya deh, saya 100% sadar kalau saya mondar-mandir di Indonesia tanpa kesebut 'tinggal di Los Angeles' kebanyakan orang nggak akan peduli sama saya. Padahal menurut saya saya lumayan keren lho.

Begitu pula orang-orang ini. Mereka nggak keren karena mendadak bisa beli mobil atau mentraktir sekampung ke bar. Mereka nggak nista juga karena bukan bekerja sebagai teller/kasir wangi di bank atau kerja kantoran lainnya. Mereka berani mengambil kesempatan yang ada, dan itu saja sudah luar biasa lho.

Mungkin kita perlu belajar melihat orang dari apa yang ia capai, dari perjalanan yang ia lalui, dari siapa dia. Biar Tuhan yang menilai salah-benar atau suci-tidaknya seseorang, dan ingat apa yang ia miliki sebenarnya pinjaman dari Nasib yang bisa diambil kapan saja. Kita cukup melihat mereka sebagai sesama manusia.

Tahun ini saya mungkin belum bisa pulang ke Indonesia, tapi saya sudah mendapatkan sepotong Indonesia di perjalanan saya. Dan saya bahagia. Makasih ya para kru kapal pesiar. Di hari raya ini, mari berusaha untuk menjadi lebih manusiawi. Karena kita memang hanya manusia. Salam rindu dari Los Angeles.

Monday, May 21, 2018

The Empty Chair



The ship magician gestured to the empty chair in front of me. "I made him disappear," I said mischievously. "Pouff... Just like that." He looked confuse for a moment, and then he laughed.

I have always hated being alone. My solitariness is usually done out of necessity: nobody wants to hang with me. Or that I feel it's too much effort to get people to hang with me. Or when insecurity kicks in and I feel people merely felt obliged to take me in.

Yet last night, as I gazed on the empty chair, I found peace. My group was dining in the other dining area, but I choose to sit there by myself. It's lonely. It's quiet. It's an anomaly in a ship filled with thousands of people. At the same time, it's comforting.

That night on the ship's dining room I realized I have been gravitating away from my group almost right away. We started as a 36 people group, but I found myself hovering up and down the deck alone the very next day. A little lost soul floating around. And I loved it.

Being content is a dangerous thing. It's highly addicting. I wanted love and companion for sure. I will be lying if I said I wasn't trying to get lucky the whole trip. Or that I didn't feel a pang when I saw my ex-crush's post on Instagram. But I also want that empty chair.

I am content with myself. A great achievement, I might add. I finally loved myself enough to enjoy my own company. The empty chair can stay empty, I am not missing anything. I savor the experiences I have. Every single one of them is wholesome already.

The empty chair might not be empty one day, but it's not going to be an easy feat. It is not going to be mere physical attraction, it will be the dance of the dragons: synchronizing each other's minds and movements, welding each other's goals and passion.

That night a squad of girls walked by, the lead was wearing a sash that says "Bride to Be". A couple can be seen kissing each other on the other table. Insecurity came and climbed on the empty chair, and started to sob hysterically, "Why am I not good enough?"

Abigail, my innocent-looking attendant from Philippine, came and put down the appetizer in front of me. "Enjoy," she said warmly. I looked at the salmon cake. I looked at Insecurity, still bawling its eyes out. "Get lost," I said with a cold, dead smile. "That chair is taken."

Monday, May 14, 2018

The Itty Bitty Earthquake of Love



I have been blasting Rita Ora's "Your Song" for days now. The song made me realize: I was in love. And I am darn happy about it.

I know, I know I sound like a psychopath. The flow of my articles doesn't make sense. But listen, I lost my eyeglasses at the beach on Sunday. FYI, I am blind as a bat, and I lost it while just sitting around. Un-effing-believable.

Then I had to run home sobbing all the way from the theatre because a scene from a play reminded me of how the minority in Indonesia are treated. Those two showed how distracted I was about the Surabaya bombings.

F- yeah I'm gonna write about love instead.

And why not? When was the last time you were happy? The ideal answer would be you can't remember because it's just the norm to be happy, not because it has been far too long. Life shouldn't be that painful.

The thing is, we hold on to our pain and misery, yet not so much on our happiness. Which makes sense. Holding on to our pain allows us to be careful, to prevent ourselves from being hurt again.

Happiness, on the other hand, only make us feel more inadequate, especially when we can't be as happy as we were before. To say "I want to be happy again" takes balls, because happiness is not an easy feat.

But it is so rewarding.

I don't want to be stuck on how he's not in my life anymore. I want to remember the kisses we shared by the waterways. I want to remember his gentle breathing when he fell asleep in my arms. I want to remember his smiles and laughter.

I don't want to be stuck thinking I should have known better. I did. Yet I took the plunge. The big grin on my face when he texted me was worth it. The many things we did together was worth it. Falling asleep next to him on the couch was worth it.

I know I'm totally Taylor Swift-ing right now. Always. Because I don't want to forget. I want to remember the grief because it helped me to move forward. But I also want to remember the happiness, the excitement, the love.

Yes. It was love. Just like an itty bitty earthquake is still called an earthquake, I don't see why love has to be earth-shattering to be called love. Nor does it owe any explanation "I love that person because..."

Sometimes you ended up in love with a person, even when you tried not to [Ahem. Guilty as charged]. It's okay. Even when it fell through, you still get to taste Love. And that's awesome. Love is amazing and to experience it is always a privilege.

In this world full of pain and misery, let love flows like a steady stream. Walk towards it to find salvation, to drink from its endless flow. When you can't find any, keep looking. When you found it, carry some for your fellow travelers.

I have been blessed with love. The tokens of love I give and receive are everywhere around me. How does it make me feel? Grateful. Strong. Hopeful. For I have seen the best in human, and I know we can achieve so much more.

So go out there and fall in love. Enjoy the first kisses, the weakened knees, the butterflies in your stomach. Enjoy the feeling of how heavenly and fitting everything seemed. Enjoy the greatest gift humans are bestowed with: Love.

Sunday, May 13, 2018

I Kissed A Guy



I kissed a guy last night. Totally random guy. He took the empty seat on my table and we chat. We danced a dance, went back to the seats, and then we kissed.

It was the first time I got a random kiss from a random stranger. It was scary and embarassing, especially with other swing dancers around who might not know me by name but definitely recognize me.

But it was good. I needed it.

There were suicide bomb explosions in Indonesia last afternoon. It shook me. The amount of hate, fear, pain going through my timeline was immense. But what's worse is the amount of denial and, for some, silent approval.

I remember the seeds of hate that some people are nurturing, the "They are evil!!!" view for people who are not like them. The streak of discrimination and the obstinence to not speak out even when you disagree.

I was at a concert in Grand Park when I found out about it. I quickly turned into a mess. Dropped my phone, bumped my dance partners, absentminded. I was shaking with emotion, physically and mentally.

And then we kissed.

What I needed last night was a hug, a comfort from someone who care and understands why it unnerves me so much. Which is why I sat by myself at the club, unable to leave because I don't want to be alone.

The kisses gave me the human contact I needed to ground myself. It gave me the gentleness and physical warmth that I badly need. It reminded me that human is precious. That we are also capable of love.

In a dark world filled with fear and hate, we forgot how to human. We forgot how human feels like. We don't see us in other humans, we see danger and threat. And that is such a lonely, lonely existence.

We kissed again before he left, telling me he'll look for me again. I smiled, knowing fully well that I might never see him again. And that's fine. I got up shortly to go home, much steadier and more composed. I wont give in to fear.

Friday, May 11, 2018

Cuilan Yang Tepat



Kenapa sih yang viral itu yang "Wow, Polwan cantik ini bersuara merdu!" atau "Nggak Nyangka Polisi Ganteng Ini Sangat Pemberani!". Apa mesti penampilan menarik (baik dari tampilan fisik atau tampilan dompet) baru kita mau melirik?

Jawabannya sih iya. Mana ada sesuatu yang viral tapi penampilan seadanya? Biasanya ada juga kalau nggak sanggup berpenampilan seperti superstar, ya sengaja dijelek-jelekkan atau dikonyolkan agar ekstrim dan menarik perhatian.

Di Amrik sini juga sama. Pas ada acara St. Patrick Day (pesta Irlandia), yang digodain teman-teman saya adalah abang ganteng yang padahal sama sekali nggak ada darah Irlandianya. Bapak-bapak gendut yang beneran mukanya Irlandia dan pakai Kilt (rok ala Irlandia) malah nggak ditoleh.

Dibilang wajar, sayangnya iya. Bukan gimana, jauh lebih gampang melihat penampilan (fisik atau finansial). Ibarat melamar pekerjaan, yang ijazah sekolah terkenal pasti lebih dilirik. Rentang perhatian kita kan nggak lama, nggak mungkin setiap orang ditelaah satu-satu.

Tapi buat saya omongan "Elu cetek banget sih" (baca: you are so shallow!) itu hinaan yang nggak penting. Kita budayanya dari awal menghargai sesuatu yang 'lebih', jadi nggak salah kalau hanya itu yang bisa kita lihat. Dogma "Jangan hanya lihat penampilan" itu juga tai kucing belaka. 

Eit, sebelum saya disambit cermin, coba duduk berpikir bareng saya. Seperti saya bilang tadi, manusia rentang perhatiannya sempit. Kita cuma bisa melihat secuil saja. Masalahnya bukan jangan melihat hanya secuil (karena ya memang segitu saja bisanya), tapi bagaimana melihat (dan mencari) cuilan yang tepat.

Orang yang kuat. Orang yang berani. Orang yang welas asih. Orang yang berjuang. Orang yang peduli. Orang yang mampu membuat hidup kita, atau hidup orang lain, menjadi lebih baik.

Ibu yang bisa menenteng tas Hermes dari hasil usahanya sendiri nilainya setara dengan ibu yang menenteng tas berisi jajan untuk kelima cucunya dari ketiga anaknya yang ia besarkan sendiri tanpa suami. Bos yang memastikan karyawannya bisa mendapat THR lebaran nilainya setara dengan OB yang memastikan ibu Akuntan bisa pulang naik taksi yang aman. 

Bukan apa yang mereka punya yang kita lihat, tapi perjalanan dan perjuangan mencapainya. Dijemput naik Avanza yang cicilan sendiri tanpa bantuan orang tua jauh lebih oke daripada BMW yang dikasi ortu, atau lebih parah lagi, hasil menipu/korupsi. Logika saja, kalau bisa usaha sendiri, pas jatuh pun akan bisa bangkit lagi hahaha.

Untuk punya integritas begini susah, apalagi di era yang semuanya serba cepat, semua ingin terkenal. Hasilnya, kemampuan sekadarnya pun tertutupi bilamana orang ini menarik. Kita membiarkan diri kita puas dengan sesuatu yang sekadarnya atau bahkan dibawah standar, akhirnya kita pun jadi dibawah standar.

Jadi lain kali melihat foto/postingan orang di social media, tanyakan pada diri anda: apa sih yang bisa saya dapatkan dari postingan ini? Jangan cuma bisa "Wow Paris aku juga mau like like like ah oh yes ada bulenya juga super duper like"

Buat saya penampilan fisik, orientasi seksual, warna kulit/ras, preferensi agama, seberapa tajirnya orang itu nggak ngefek. Yang akan saya lihat hanya perjuangan mereka, hanya siapa mereka, dan bagaimana mereka memperlakukan sesamanya. Apa yang mereka sudah berikan pada dunia.

Karena ini penting. Batas-batas dunia semakin hilang dan relasi antar manusia menjadi semakin kompleks. Kalau kita masih hanya melihat tampilan luar dan bukannya sifat yang bisa membuat kita lebih baik, kita ibarat manusia purba yang nggak mau berevolusi.

Jadi kalau malam minggu ini masih ada yang bilang sama anda "Duh sori ya, elu kurang cakep/kurang kaya sih…" Monggo lho di toss/di high five orang yang bilang begitu. Bagus ketahuan di awal daripada anda buang-buang waktu sama orang yang prioritasnya beda. 

Dan karena ini Indonesia yang kadang orang mulutnya suka minta disuapin sendal jepit, saya cuma ingin mengingatkan bahwa 'Gendut', 'Jelek', 'Hitam', 'Kusam', 'Dekil', dan berbagai variasi hinaan fisik lainnya itu bukan siapa anda yang sebenarnya. 

Anda adalah apa yang telah anda capai. Anda adalah apa yang (sedang) anda perjuangkan. Anda adalah apa yang anda berikan pada dunia. Anda bukanlah sesosok mahluk yang dipaksakan muncul karena proyeksi ketidak-pedean seseorang. 

Sebaliknya, orang lain pun tidak boleh menjadi nista hanya karena ketidak-pedean anda. Jangan mau dilihat secara utuh tapi mulut sibuk bergunjing dan pikiran sibuk menghina. Nggak fair ah.

Selamat berakhir pekan, pembaca tersayang. Nikmati akhir pekan anda!

Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Relationship-Phobia



Aaaand it's a wrap. My stint on online dating only lasted a good week or so. I disabled my accounts, uninstalled the apps, and getting ready to spend a good, quiet life once more. And since I am infamous for being too easily attached to people, steering clear from potential dates might be a good idea.

I want to say it's because I love my freedom. I love being independent and the free spirit in me desire to fly free: untethered and unstoppable. I also want to say it's because I want to learn to be whole as a woman, loving myself and nurturing my self-confidence. You know, all the beautiful sayings.

The truth is, I'm just lazy. I don't want to spend the time or effort to humor people just to impress them. And after seeing so many 'mating dance' through the app's messaging service, I kinda feel I've seen enough, and my time could be better spent napping. Or cooking. Or dancing.

But the real, real truth is, I'm scared. 

Dating sucks because it guarantees you nothing. There is a risk that the feeling is only a fleeting fancy, and you see their interest in you decrease almost overnight. It's both sad and painful, especially since having hopes and expectation is unavoidable. You left waking up at night questioning what you did wrong, and why aren't you good enough.

Or when the feeling is not mutual, and you felt like you are coerced, no, forced to acknowledge the other's feeling. I have heard so many variations of "But I'm a good guy!" and various guilt trip when it's my turn to ask for something. Just being nice doesn't automatically get you the kitty, and just because I'm nice doesn't mean I am ok being treated whatever one feels like it.

And then there's the lying and the cheating and the dishonesty. There are the bad breakups and vile fights and uncomfortable separation. There's the period of awkward silence and the rituals of deleting each other social media, or in some cases, blocking them. 

I'm scared of relationship. There, I said it. I'm scared of commitment. A week in the dating sites reminded me how frightened and uncomfortable I am to let anyone walk into my life again. It reminded me that I am not the easiest to deal with, nor to pair with.

My best friend told me I will find someone. That the right person will be strong enough to make me feel worth it, caring enough to make me feel comfortable and safe. That I deserve so much more than what the world has offered me so far.

And I want to believe that. I want to meet someone who'd offer to buy me ice cream instead of drinks when he first saw me. I want to meet someone who I can dance with in the living room after a hard day at work. I want to meet someone who I can talk to about my writing, my thoughts. I want to meet someone who'll love me for who I am and not for only what he chooses to see. 

But that can wait. I am not in a rush.  To be fair, even if the right person is in front of me right now there is a very, very high chance I will still run the other way. I'm good by myself, thank you.

Monday, May 7, 2018

Kepo Syalala



#KepoSyalala

Minggu kemarin saya patah hati. Gebetan saya ceritanya menolak serius, sementara saya malas cuma jadi mainan. Jadilah saya bye bye bye. Boleh dong jadi perempuan punya standar.

Tapi kebayang nggak kalau di Indonesia? "Makanya jangan sembarangan cari lelaki," "Cewek ga bener pasti dapatnya juga cowok ga bener," "Badan kayak lemper begitu wajarlah," berikut segala spekulasi kenapa si lelaki nggak mau serius, yang mana sebagian besar akan menyalahkan saya. Fakta bahwa cowok ini ganteng jelas nggak menolong saya. "Ngaca ga sih tuh perempuan??"

Kekepoan kita ini sangat mendarah daging, sampai kemarin mau daftar pemilu online ada pilihan status pernikahan. Sama dengan kolom agama, faedahnya apa? Apa yang saya pilih nggak akan terpengaruh dari status pernikahan atau agama saya, bukan? 

Masalahnya dengan kekepoan adalah, korban utamanya perempuan. Seberapa heboh sih kita mengkepokan lelaki? Biasanya yang kita kepoin perempuan disekitar lelaki itu. Nggak ada, misalnya, yang mengkepokan betapa brengseknya Ahmad Dhani. Semua sibuk resehin Mulan Jameela.

Seperti cerita patah hati saya. Teman-teman saya disini yang sibuk "Kebiasaan deh, lelaki" "Gue bangga loe bisa mengambil sikap," "Elu berhak dapat yang lebih baik!" Karena memang bukan salah saya dia nggak mau serius. Itu juga bukan urusan orang untuk menduga atau menghakimi saya.

Kekepoan kita dan penghakiman kita terjadi saat kita melihat sesuatu hanya dari luarnya saja, hanya dari kriteria yang timbul dalam kesempitan pikiran kita, dari proyeksi insekuritas/rasa tidak percaya diri kita. Akhirnya yang keluar/terujar pun hanyalah kenegatifan belaka.

Dan ini akhirnya menjadi lingkaran setan. Sekian banyak orang (dan saya sendiri!) bercerita alangkah tidak nyamannya menjadi bahan kepoan dan penghakiman orang lain. Kita yang negatif menjadi sebal dan membalas dengan mengkepokan dan menghakimi orang lain. Semua ini terus berlanjut.

Terlalu mudah, sekali lagi, terlalu mudah untuk melihat rendah orang lain. Sebaliknya, terlalu mudah juga mendewakan seseorang yang masyarakat pikir hebat dan keren. Yang sangat sulit adalah melihat tinggi, atau setidaknya mengakui seseorang yang 'biasa'.

Kenapa? Karena mengakui kemampuan dan kelebihan orang lain yang terlihat 'biasa' berarti mengakui bahwa kita yang 'biasa' pun sebenarnya 'luar biasa'. Kita harus meruntuhkan ego dan insekuritas kita untuk melakukan ini. Banyak yang nggak siap untuk melangkah kesitu.

Caranya sih dengan banyak latihan ya hahaha. Lihat orang sekeliling anda dan pikirkan apa hal baik yang anda bisa lihat darinya. Manusia itu ibarat berlian, ada banyak sisinya. Sinar yang dipendarkan/keluar pun tergantung sinar apa yang masuk. Jadi jangan langsung menuduh orang lain jelek bila anda tidak tahu ceritanya, atau belum melihat secara keseluruhan.

Nggak menarik ya bacaan Senin sore/Selasa pagi ini? Ahahaha. Saya sih bisa lho menulis mendayu-dayu tentang cinta dan kasih sayang, tapi cinta dan kasih sayang paling utama yang saya rasakan adalah dari orang-orang yang menerima saya apa adanya.

Bukan Ary Yogeswary yang gemuk, nggak dandan, kulit tidak terawat, kebanyakan omong, kere, nggak keren; tapi Ary Yogeswary yang menikmati dunia, yang penuh senyum dan tawa, yang siap menolong temannya, yang pantas mendapat hal-hal yang baik dalam hidupnya.

Enak lho berpikir positif. Coba deh. Awas ketagihan tapi. Bisa-bisa dunia menjadi tempat yang lebih baik, lebih nyaman, dan lebih indah kalau semua orang mau dan mampu berpikir positif. Eh.

This is America



I watched Childish Gambino's This is America, and I have to step back to take a breath.

Every time I read about crimes, pain, fear, and other bad things in the news, it hits me hard.

Every time I saw people on the street, homeless and cold, physically and/or mentally unwell, it hits me hard.

Each blow never got better. Each blow makes me want to bury my face in my hand and groan in mental pain, reeling to the anguish I felt.

Then I watch Childish Gambino's This is America. The blows are as fresh and as painful as both old and new ones.

There is so much pain and fear around, thick as a fog that obscures our vision, swirling like a monster tentacle that wrapped itself around our necks and torso, suffocating us.

I want to say it's going to get better. I want to say don't lose hope. I want to say they will be saved.

But I can't.

I don't know if it's going to get better. It's selfish to ask them to hold on to their shitty condition for the sake of 'hope'. And will any of us really go to get saved?

But I am here. I see you. You are not invisible. A little of me stays with you when I see you. 

This may sound like empty words, and nothing will change. And it is probably right.

But I am here. And just like me watching Childish Gambino's This is America, I am watching you. Thinking of you. Praying for you. And if I can, reach out my hands to you. I am here.

Friday, May 4, 2018

I'm Fine



"I'm always fine. Don't worry," I texted my friend with a smile emoji. She, in return, send back the emoji with a single tear. It hit me hard. How many times already I said that lie?

Yesterday, SAD/Seasonal depression hit me so hard that I have to stay at home. As an added precaution, I turned off my phone. Luckily my fridge is well-stocked with food that I only need to microwave them. There I was, spending the day in my room completely cut from people.

And it was great. I read on people's feeling and emotion too well, even over the virtual connection. This detachment allows me to ground myself, to be just with myself. Surprisingly, it also gives me the chance to mourn, as I just got my heart broken the night before.

I only realized now that I never had the chance to mourn my marriage. Got kicked out of the apartment, was back working two days later. Find out he was cheating, at work two days later. Move out and finalizing divorce, was back the next day. It's always the same lie: "I'm fine. Don't worry."

A part of me is doing that because a lot of people freaked out when I broke down. A lot of people care about me, and I really don't want them to worry. A part of me is doing that because it is too hard to face reality that, in fact, it really breaks me down.

My ex-husband's not worth it anyway, I told myself. I am stronger than that, I convinced myself. I am not going to let him break me down, I exclaimed defiantly to myself. But he's worth it to me. I am allowed to cry, to be sad, to mourn. And yes, it really did break me down.

When I sat in my room yesterday, among the blasts of battle cries from Age of Empire, I mourned. The sadness I feel when my heart got broken this time was painful, but in no way compare to the pain I felt two years ago. Even so, I am grateful for this chance of mourning, this chance of proper goodbye and adequate closure.

My non-relationship relationship ended. And it's okay. I made my choices, and so did he. The beautiful memories will always be there for me, the gentle embraces and delightful moments. It didn't work out like I would have wanted to, and it's okay. Not all puzzle pieces fit together. 

I reach for my phone and check his social media. I read his message to me.  At least this one was more genuine and more thoughtful than the spiteful ones from my ex, and I really appreciate that. I look at his other posts, at his profile pic. I smiled warmly. I will be fine. Don't worry.

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