What Pearl Harbor Means To Me as a Quarter Japanese Woman

December 7, 2013December 7, 2020 Alex Matsuo

You may be seeing this, or something similar floating around the Internet today:

Just before 8 a.m. on December 7, 1941, hundreds of Japanese fighter planes attacked the American naval base at Pearl Harbor near Honolulu, Hawaii. The barrage lasted just two hours, but it was devastating: The Japanese managed to destroy nearly 20 American naval vessels, including eight enormous battleships, and almost 200 airplanes. More than 2,000 Americans soldiers and sailors died in the attack, and another 1,000 were wounded. The day after the assault, President Franklin D. Roosevelt asked Congress to declare war on Japan; Congress approved his declaration with just one dissenting vote. Three days later, Japanese allies Germany and Italy also declared war on the United States, and again Congress reciprocated. More than two years into the conflict, America had finally joined World War II.

Many people will see this and take a moment to remember. Many may have had family who was serving at the time and was attacked at Pearl Harbor and survived…or worse…perished. But this truly lives in infamy. For many, it meant that the boys would become men and drafted into the military to serve their country.

But what about those who looked like the enemy? What of those who were of the same ethnicity as the ones who attacked Pearl Harbor?

You probably can’t tell from looking at me, but I’m a quarter Japanese on my mother’s side. Which means my mother is half Japanese from her father’s side…my Grandpa.

Growing Up on Empty

Growing up, I adored my Grandpa. My memories of him are still very potent. He played with me, took care of me while my Mom was at work, take me to baseball games, go on walks with me every day, even when he was tired. He would also take on the role of a father figure when my Dad was unable to be more involved in my life. When I was younger, I did look a bit more Japanese, but I didn’t even notice the eyes or ethnicity. He was my Grandpa.

I was a little over a month shy of turning 7 when he died on December 3rd, 1992 (almost exactly 51 years after Pearl Harbor). It’s a day that still rocks my memory as I remembered how sad everyone was, and my Grandma telling my cousin, “We’re going to lose him.”

We did lose him. Considering he died when I was so young, I really didn’t get a chance to get to know him.

Learning from the Past

My Grandpa in his Army uniform circa 1940's — My Grandpa in his Army uniform circa 1940’s

It wasn’t until I was much older when I began to dig deep into his past. Even more so when I was working on my play, Japanese Eyes/American Heart, loosely based on my Grandpa’s experiences during World War II after Pearl Harbor. I knew of the internment of Japanese-Americans very blandly because my Grandpa had siblings either interred or they served in the military.

My Grandpa was born in Honolulu, Hawaii to Isokichi and Suga Matsuo. Isokichi was born in Japan and got on the boat to Hawaii in 1900 not too long after Japan opened their borders. Suga was born in Hawaii. My Grandpa was born in 1920, and in 1940, he enlisted in the United States Army.

I have no doubt that December 7th, 1941 affected him. Given the location and WHO attacked Pearl Harbor, I imagine there was much worry and concern of how it would affect his family.

His older brother Roy, was sent to Jerome War Relocation Center in Southeastern Arkansas.

Roy's entry in the National Archive's in the Japanese Relocation/Internment Records, — Roy’s entry in the National Archive’s in the Japanese Relocation/Internment Records,

His brother Ted, served as a medic in the famed 442nd to Company F, and was wounded on the second day of combat near Sasseta.

There are also several Matsuo’s who went to relocation centers such as Manzanar and Heart Mountain. I’m still researching and confirming whether they were a part of my family.

And then there was Keijiro (or as I knew him, “Uncle Kei”). I’m going to let Ted’s wife, Dorothy Matsuo explain what happened to him, and she recounts in her book, Boyhood To War: History and Anecdotes of the 442nd Regimental Combat Team:

“Ted Matsuo described the incredible experience of his brother, Keijiro, who had earned an electrical engineering degree from Indiana Tristate College and had gone to Japan to work because no one in the United States or Hawaii would hire a nisei electrical engineer. Keijiro had lived for a time with his brother in California, where he enjoyed diving for abalone and lobster off the coast of Monterey. The FBI was aware of his dives and accused him of mapping the sea floor for the Japanese. He was arrested, but because of lack of evidence, he was given the option of volunteering for the military in lieu of being incarcerated. Because they denied him officer status, Keijiro refused military service and was incarcerated at Sand Island. He was later released and drafted for the engineer battalion in Hawaii” (Matsuo 22).
Dorothy Matsuo, Boyhood to War (22)

Struggling with Identity

I’ve joined several communities full of Japanese Americans. I find these groups to be my sanctury to explore my identity, race, and talk history about our family. Ironically, the folks who have commented on “how Japanese” I look have been white men. But then that goes without saying, what is exactly Japanese? How is it that I’m accepted as Japanese American by others in the Asian community but not to white men? It really messes with your mind.

I’ve had people who have known me for years eventually asking me if I’m part Asian. It’s there, it’s always been there. And it shows that people either “look for the whiteness” or just make very basic assumptions on my appearance. Since I have red hair = Irish = white. I’m more Japanese than Irish if we want to get technical.

Filling in the Gaps

The internment of Japanese Americans has been swept under the rug for years….until recently.

Thanks to many films, and a new musical called Allegiance starring George Takei, Lea Salonga, and Telly Leung, which I had the pleasure of seeing at the Old Globe in San Diego in 2012 I’ll admit that I was incredibly touched by the show and I found myself crying on several occasions. I hope that this marks more awareness of Japanese American internment. If you’re in Los Angeles, check out the Japanese American National Museum. While living in San Diego, I often visited the museum and it was an emotional experience every time. There are several museums dedicated to Japanese American history, and many of the relocation centers are being restored and preserved being turned into museums themselves.

So as we reflect on this day, let us remember how much it impacted the present of the time, and the future. For me, while Pearl Harbor and the internment of Japanese Americans didn’t directly affect me, it meant the lack of knowledge on the that part of my family’s history, and not getting a chance to connect with the Japanese culture.

My Grandpa's retirement packet with a letter from Harry Truman thanking him for his service in WWII. — My Grandpa’s retirement packet with a letter from Harry Truman thanking him for his service in WWII.

Statement Regarding My Paranormal Affiliations

December 3, 2013 Alex Matsuo

Since July of 2013, my only affiliation with any paranormal team has been with Association of Paranormal Study (APS), the team I founded in 2011, as well as having the privilege of an honorary membership with Evermore Paranormal.

My previous involvement with other paranormal groups has raised questions about the integrity and business practices of my team, APS. During my recent time with a previous team, I was employed from in December of 2012. In July of 2013, I turned my full focus to the Association of Paranormal Study.

At APS, our mission statement is

“To promote the study and research of the paranormal field by bringing together, encouraging, and growing the paranormal community by building knowledge through workshops and lectures, hosting public investigations in local places in the city. And finally performing private home investigations for clients with a solution based practice in order to provide thoughtful and productive resolution to the clients and presence.”

We do this by helping our clients in any way we can in three different team locations; San Diego, Mid-Atlantic, and North East. All business practices conducted by the Association of Paranormal Study, its directors and investigators, are held to the upmost standards. Any business practice of previous teams in which I was employed does not reflect, in any way, the way we conduct ourselves at APS.

Thank You Hater(s)!

October 30, 2013 Alex Matsuo

I found this by accident. I love everything about it. The song is catchy, and accurately describes the haters I’ve encountered, regardless of direct or indirect insults. It’s almost like a love letter so to speak. This is simply amazing. If this awakes dragons, lions, trolls, etc. they don’t have a sense of humor.

Nothing Else Matters Because I’m Fat

August 30, 2013 Alex Matsuo

Being a fat person has exposed me to the widest variety of insults and jokes. Whether they’re said to my face or behind my back, whenever someone really wants to insult or get to someone, they comment on their weight. Being fat has become the ultimate haven of experiencing below-the-belt insults.

It also seems that when one is fat, the quality of the person goes down. People judge character based on weight. Don’t believe me? Let’s take some of my own experiences. I was recently called fat via social media by a chain smoker. Of course, when someone speaks up to defend a fat person, the comeback is “well they shouldn’t be promoting an unhealthy lifestyle” as they light another cigarette.

Ironic, isn’t it? Perhaps we need to look in the mirror before judging.

Furthermore, who gave thin people the badge that gives them the right to be called good people and shame fat people? Shaming based on size has become huge (excuse the pun) in our modern society. There’s fat shaming and skinny shaming. It appears that insulting one’s appearance is much more powerful than commenting on the person’s actual character.

For example, I was made to feel insignificant, basically not intelligent enough for certain endeavors that I’ve chosen to embark upon by my chain-smoking buddy. Even though I have a Masters degree in my chosen path, I wasn’t smart enough or qualified enough, and then proceeded to comment on my weight and how I needed to spend my time and energy on becoming less of a fatass.

This is where, “Nothing else matters because I’m fat” comes from.

I’ve done mission work in third world countries, I’ve worked with special needs children, I’ve volunteered hundreds of hours into non-profits and charities, I’ve worked with inner city children…but I’m fat. Therefore whatever I do is moot because I am large.

Of course, this isn’t true. Some of the most intelligent people I know are overweight and/or obese.

When someone posts a photo of themselves, and they’re overweight and celebrating their body image, the comments I see from naysayers/trolls the most are, “You shouldn’t be promoting an unhealthy lifestyle” or “You’re celebrating that overeating is okay.” Here’s the thing, of course being overweight is unhealthy. If someone feels fabulous at 500 pounds, that’s awesome! If someone is 500 pounds, eats healthy, exercises every day…that’s great! For me, I know the [my] human body isn’t meant to carry the amount of weight I’m carrying. But ya know what? It’s no one’s business but my own. Other people’s weight and health is nobody else’s business but my own. I sit in an airplane seat just fine so it shouldn’t bug the person next to me. Yeah, I might be an awkward sight at the gym, but at least I’m there. People are fat for a variety of different reasons ranging from health to emotional. Is it my business? No. Nor is the reason why I’m fat is anyone else’s business but my and my family’s. Weight is a personal concern.

If I’m a bad person, tell me I’m a bad person, don’t comment on appearance. Throwing insults takes more than just appearances (pun intended).

Like most people, fat people (or fit/skinny/chubby/bulky/curvy/etc people) are not perfect. Even people who are comfortable in their own skin aren’t perfect. We all come from different backgrounds, we’ve made mistakes, we’ve hurt others, we’ve been hurt, we regret our actions…it’s all a part of being human. This is a journey of mankind.

What needs to be looked at are the people who feel like they have to insult weight and body image in order to hurt others. Maybe they’re feeling so insignificant about themselves that they have to project their own hurt and insecurities onto others. They aren’t worth your time or taking up space in your head or heart. Are they bad people? I don’t know. I’m biased. Considering that words have so much power, a fat joke can make a person purge after eating, and self-confidence can be instantly shattered with a fat comment. Like being fat means that they’re less of person.

Guess what? No matter what your body size is, you are not less of a person.

What makes you less of a person is the fact you have to tear others down by commenting on their body image to make yourself look powerful. Making memes and insulting photos of fat people is nothing more than a pissing contest to see who can be the most powerful. People who comment on appearances in order to make themselves look good are the lowest on the totem pole emotionally and they have to make sure that someone else feels bad too, because hey, misery loves company. Think about it, have you ever seen or heard an emotionally happy, sane, and healthy person go around spewing negativity like that?

Instead of commenting on body image as a reflection of inner character, perhaps we just need to start looking at the person beyond the fat and beyond the physique. Being fit doesn’t automatically make someone a good person, nor does being fat automatically make someone a bad person.

If someone calls you fat for the purposes of making you feel bad, let it slide off your back (easier said than done, I know). Because the person who said the hurtful comment is most likely feeling insignificant in some way, and in their minds, insulting you gives them power. Don’t give them that power.

Weight does not equal character.

Making Friends As An Adult

August 26, 2013 Alex Matsuo

So…since moving to Raleigh, I’ve learned something huge. Making friends as an adult isn’t quite as easy as one might think. In San Diego, I had friends from church, high school, college, work, and doing shows. I am a pretty social person, so the culture shock of moving to Raleigh and being stripped of a social life in the physical world was a big overwhelming at first.

Luckily, I actually had a few friends from college who lived in Raleigh so I had some social time with them. But I still had the life of a loner and I was (and still am) very homesick.

I did a few things to cope with the loneliness:

I called my friends.

I can’t tell you the last time I actually picked up the phone and called a friend. With the world of texting, it’s turned into a cop-out when it comes to communication. I can’t tell you the feeling of hearing familiar voices and actually talking, and using verbal communication. For the first time ever, I’m living alone in my own place and I never actually thought about whether I opened my mouth to talk or not. I live in my head and don’t talk to myself out loud, I think I unintentionally took a vow of silence one day.

I wrote letters and postcards.

I took a piece of paper or a postcard and I wrote to some friends. With the world of email, texting, and messaging, this is a practice that’s on its way to becoming lost. There’s something about sitting and writing with a pen or pencil a letter to a friend. It was rather pleasant really.

I didn’t forget the friends I have already

It wasn’t until now that I fully appreciate the social networking ease that is Facebook. I think I chatted more in the last three months than I ever have in the time that I’ve been on Facebook. If you’re feeling lonely or need some interaction, a quick hello on Facebook can do wonders.

But what did I do to start making new friends?

I started auditioning.

Even if I wasn’t right for the show, I went and auditioned for any play, film, or musical I could find. I needed to start making my face known in the theatre

community anyway, and if I booked a show, I’d be spending a substantial amount of time with these individuals. I did get cast in a show (yay!) and I’m having a blast.

Get involved in areas that are familiar to you. Whether it’s wine, gardening, working out, etc. go out and get involved.

I joined a social networking site for friends and dating.

Okay, it’s a step above Craigslist (I haven’t been able to cross that line yet), butI’ve actually met some

pretty cool people through a few websites. If anything, having a beer with a stranger makes you learn about others and yourself. Of course, I was guarded and had to use a fly swatter to get away from the creeps, but that’s real life anyway. 😉 But crazy thing: There are websites for friendships now. No longer do people have to go through dating websites just to make new friends.

Joining Meetup

Meetup.com is a pretty cool website where you search for meetup groups based on hobbies, interest, and lifestyle. I’ve actually made some acquaintances who I socialize and spend time with outside of the Meetup group. Do I dare call them friends? I think so.

Work

Probably the place where you’ll spend most of your time and where you’ll interact with people on a regular basis. I’m blessed in the fact that the people I work with are awesome, along with being very loving and welcoming.

I became the neighbor Mr. Rogers would be proud of

Living on the second floor and working odd hours, I happen to run into my neighbors often. Instead of my usual keeping my head down and just walking by, I keep my head up now, smile, and say hello. One of my neighbors helped me with my groceries the other day, and he also happens to be a cop. The community I live in also has social events, and while I skipped the last one, I’ll go to the next one.

Enjoy the downtime

This was probably the most difficult one for me to swallow. Getting the chance to sit back and enjoy the quiet and enjoy the downtime has turned into something very special. Going out or talking to someone every day and evening was something I’ve done for years, and the only downtime I really had was sleeping. Rarely did I ever put time aside for my own spiritual well-being and took time for myself.

Okay, maybe this isn’t the best how-to on making friends, but it’s a start. If you just moved to a new city where you don’t know anyone, you’re not going to make much progress just sitting at home and doing nothing. Don’t be afraid of going out by yourself. Making new friends in a new town is all about getting out there and reaching out.

Making new friends and putting yourself out there all over again is scary. It reveals a vulnerable part about yourself, and if you were a social butterfly in your old element, it’s even scarier to have to start over. I miss my friends back home dearly. But I’m also very grateful for the people I’ve met here in Raleigh and look forward to seeing what new adventures await.

Superhero

February 6, 2013 Alex Matsuo

I started a new residency this week at a new school. To sum up the gist of my job, I basically show Kindergarten-5th grade teachers how to integrate the arts into their curriculums. There’s a lot more to it, but for sake of not boring anyone, I’ll leave it at that. I love my job, it can be exhausting at times, but I get to work in something theatre-related and teach the next generation of students. I have a tendency to get attached to my students. What can I say? I’m a sucker for hugs, high-fives, handshakes, and toothless smiles. I love seeing this kids grow from being shy children to completely letting go on stage and becoming a character. I especially love training teachers and seeing them grow and develop and become phenomenal artists, whether they realize it or not.

Anyway, today I had a student whose a four-limb amputee (for the sake of the internet, his name is going to be omitted). I’ve worked with kids with special needs on a regular basis, even working with children with autism and having them perform Shakespeare and Moliere on stage. These kids I especially have a soft spot for because they are the most creative artists and they surprise me so much with the things they come up. And not to mention how genuinely happy they are to be a part of a group and feel included by their peers. While it’s trying, it’s very special and I consider it a privilege and an honor. I end up learning a lot each time. I learn about myself and what it is to be human.

My student whose a four leg amputee really excelled in theatre today. We worked with mirror activities and I taught them how to warm up and this student truly led by example. Even though he was missing his limbs, the movements he created were amazing. I would have thought he was a modern dancer. The way he expressed himself and took the plunge into all the activities was astounding.

Before we got into the activities, I was talking to the kids about imagination and how actors can be whatever they want to be. They use their imaginations to become characters and be able to do things they usually can’t do in reality, or so they think.

The student asked with wide eyes and a smile, “Can I even be a superhero?”

Yes, student…while you may not know it yet, you are already a superhero.

Boxes of the Past

January 26, 2013 Alex Matsuo

I had to go through some old boxes of mine that were sitting outside of my house. The rain finally took over and the wind was strong enough to knock the boxes over so it was time to go through them to see if they’re worthy of bringing inside the house.

It probably took about an hour. It’s a wet and cloudy Saturday here in San Diego, and my interest was more delved into staying indoors while watching figure skating and eating chili. But alas, I went through the boxes. During the experience, I freaked out about spiders, dirt, and wet soggy cardboard. But miraculously, my belongings remained dry and untouched.

I found jewelry, photos, books, all these things that are a part of me and my history. It’s weird to say, but this whole experience helped me find myself again. I think I took people’s perceptions of me to establish my current identity, and to be honest, I’ve been feeling a little lost. Apparently, my identity in the public eye has been growing, and about 98% of these people think they know me and they know who I am. In truth, they only know one side of me. Not even a side, they only see on sliver of what goes on in my life. Now does this mean I want everyone to take the time to get to know me? Of course not. I think I’ve been ignorant of myself for about 6 months now. I only gave attention to what people see on the surface of me. In truth, isn’t that how we function on a regular basis? to only judge by what you see on the exterior and what other people tell you of that person.

I believe it was RuPaul who said, “What other people think about you is none of your business.” And it’s very true. I’m slowly beginning to get to that place where I’m not caring anymore about what other people think of me. I’ve come to terms with the fact that there are select individuals out there who will try to destroy me, my character, and my life. But they will never stop my family from loving me, they will never cause rifts in my friendships, and they will never prevent me from doing what I love. They actually have no power over me.

Going through these old boxes inspired me to revisit some old photos. I found a photo of me from circa 2006/2007. I almost didn’t recognize myself. But that is the Alex I want to return to. I cropped the photo to save my friend from internet exposure. This is the Alex who was very social, hung out with friends on a regular basis, lived life to the fullest, worked hard, and took nothing for granted…while still in the moment of pure happiness and appreciation. Which I’ve lost. This photo was taken the first or second Christmas after my car accident. Unreal. I genuinely look happy.

I’m going to start disengaging from toxic people on the internet. They can go and say I rip people to shreds, I’m a horrible person, I am a terrible friend, I use people, etc. but they don’t know me. They don’t know my friends, my colleagues, and my family. In closing, they don’t know what they’re talking about. If the attempts of taking down the reputation of myself and other people gives these individuals the sustenance that they need to have fulfillment and the reason to live and survive, then my public identity is a generous donation to their meaning of life.

2012: The Year of Extreme

December 31, 2012 Alex Matsuo

2012 was a year of extremes for me.

I either had huge successes or huge fails.

I had major triumphs, but then extreme disappointments.

I met wonderful people, then discovered the ugliness of humanity.

I have learned that people will like you just as long as you give them exactly what they want, and once you don’t, you become the token scapegoat.

I have met numerous people, and yet felt more alone this year than ever.

I have never been emotionally happier, but I’ve never been so heartbroken.

I suppose I’m not writing this with the best mindset, but there were good and bad things about 2012. It’s important to have this to balance life, of course. But it doesn’t make it any less trying.

But if there is anything I have learned about myself in 2012, I’ve learned that I can quickly grow a thick skin, I can put up walls where needed, and I can overcome the toughest of trials.

2013 will be a year of transition for me. There will be lots of changes in my life, my job, my friends, and my family. Some of it will be heartbreaking, but some of it will be wonderful. I look forward to seeing what 2013 will bring, and I’m ready for anything.

For those of you reading, I wish you all a wonderful new year and I hope 2013 brings you everything you hope it will.

Why I Buzzed Part of My Head

November 17, 2012 Alex Matsuo

A few weeks ago, I did something very daring. I buzzed about a quarter of my head. I did this a few weeks ago and I’m finally getting around to posting about it. The day I got it done, I was being a bit of a tease by saying, “Shaving my head!”

Of course, after saying that, people were freaking out. I got interesting responses and there were a few that surprised me. Those who I thought would disapprove were cheering me on, while others who I thought wouldn’t care or would be somewhat supportive, were aghast. I sort of felt like a troll in the end when I only shaved a part of my head, but it’s still a major change.

I’ve always been known for my full head of hair and my hair color. Because of the hair color thing, I’ve never dyed my hair, and the closest chemical that my hair has been exposed to is a shine treatment that I got for myself for graduation.

So on that note, my abilities to do anything really crazy with my hair have always been limited. My mother wouldn’t even let me do the colored hairspray when I was a kid in fear that I would damage my hair color. Same thing went for temporary hair dye. Never been able to do it. Do I feel like I’m missing out on something by never dying my hair? Eh…sometimes. I get jealous of those who can dye their hair black with bold colors like pink or blue as highlights. I guess that tells you what kind of style I’m into.

But anyway, when I told my mother that I wanted to shave a part of my head, she looked at me and just simply asked, “Why?” And for the first time, I was able to give an answer that made sense and was logical almost immediately. I said, “Because it’s something I want to do for me.”

This was something that I wanted to do for myself. So often I watched other people do this same hairstyle and I always thought about how cool that looked. It was so edgy, and it was a statement of self-independence and not caring about what others think. And on the plus side, it would be easy to hide at work since all I need to do is flip the hair over.

But I’m also aware of what people may think of me with part of my hair gone. They will probably see me as a punk, a hippie, a crazy kid, unprofessional, doesn’t give a f*ck about what society thinks of me (partially true), and maybe a crazy hooligan. But they only see me for a moment. They don’t see me as my friends and family see me. They don’t see the person with the full-time job and a Master’s degree. But you know what? That’s okay.

Living with the haircut for two weeks now has taught me a lot about myself. For one, I feel like I’m myself. I feel like I’ve finally fallen into my own element and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I know myself. I feel so much more confident and happy with my appearance. Not to mention, maintenance is so much easier and my head and neck don’t get quite as hot and greasy like they used to. And straightening my hair only takes a fraction of the time it used to. This is something that I’m so glad I did and I’ll hang on to this haircut for a while. I might even buzz more off now that I know this is something I like. This was a huge step for me, because I really was afraid that it would look terrible, but in the end, I love it.

Take risks. Risk failure. If you fail, you fail. But you’ll never know unless you try.

Haters Gonna Hate

September 16, 2012 Alex Matsuo

This has been a strange week.

My week started with the most incredible high. But with every high, I suppose the universe needed to balance me out.

This week, I’ve dealt with a lot of…haters. This sounds so egotistical of me, and I really don’t want to mean it like it’s sounding. But I’ve been dealing with a lot of haters who’ve held nothing back in calling me out. It’s new to me. Well, at least in large numbers. Actually, it’s just new-ish. I know the reason why I’m dealing with it, it’s because of my associations with a particular group of people. People tell me it’s because “such-n-such” is jealous, blah, blah, blah. I’ve always been pretty good at distancing myself from people I anticipate I may not get along with, or I detect that they may be jerks. But there’s always a few that sneak in.

In my “normal” life, I get along with everyone. Even if I’m not fond of someone, or someone isn’t fond of me, there’s still mutual respect. The community I associate with at home is wonderful. It’s professional, supportive, and we all have a degree of respect for each other. Then I go home and join my “other life” and it seems to be the polar opposite. While I love the work I get to do with this group, sometimes dealing with people who don’t like me can wear on my mind. I don’t care if people like me or not, it’s figuring out how to respond when they make it extremely clear and make sure that you know they don’t like you. And I feel that because of my associations, and the fact I’m not able to verbally bitchslap people the way I used to, these people are taking advantage of that and basically think they can take a dump on my desk and get away with it.

There are two groups. The first group contains people that I’m not emotionally connected to, and they don’t hold back in making complete asses of themselves and target you for making lighthearted commentary on something as simple as a Facebook status. Those don’t get to me as much as they amuse me for the most part.

I was told to not ever write about it because it would show the “haters” that they got to me. But to be perfectly honest…the second group gets to me sometimes. Especially when it’s someone who you had tremendous respect for, and you get accused of something that you didn’t do, and they don’t give you any help or time of day to explain to you what exactly you did wrong. It’s hard. And as much as I wanted to investigate, I have to accept that fact that if the other person really gave a shit about me, they would’ve told me what was going on. Instead of one day, we’re friends, and the next day, I’m gone from a friends list. Majority of people in my life know that the one thing I cannot stand is being accused of something that I didn’t do. I own up to my mistakes, but when I don’t know what I’m supposed to own up to, and therefore rejected for doing something that I’ve never been made privy to, it hurts. A lot. I can only cry and mourn over the loss of the friendship for so long before I can wash my hands of the issue and simply move on with my life. While I know things that were told to me that supposedly came from my former friend in question, I decided to hold it in. I tend to try to let rumors and gossip die with me. I hate bringing up unnecessary drama, especially if it only upsets the person.

I mean…look at it this way:

“Hey Alan, I heard from Brad that he heard from Chris that you were telling him about this one thing that I said…” See where things can get lost? Would it be worth to upset Alan like that when the rumors are coming from second, third and fourth parties?

So dealing with haters. Dealing with rumors. Dealing with gossip. I have to learn how to let it go. I also need to come to terms with letting go the friendships that have ended. I have turned into a person that doesn’t trust anyone, except maybe a few close friends. It stinks, and I’ve become quite cynical of people and their intentions of wanting to befriend me. People are going to talk shit because you’re present. They know who you are and for whatever reason they don’t like you, they’ll talk shit. It’s the way of the game. I was basically broken last week from the loss of a friendship that I treasured. But what doesn’t break you, makes you stronger.

And while haters are going to hate, I’m going to enjoy life. I’m going to wake up in the morning and take a big whiff of the successes I’ve achieved because I’ve worked my ass off to get them. I’m no longer going to be ashamed or self-conscious of my accomplishments and apologize for being who I am because it offends someone. Why does anyone have to be knocked down so that someone else can feel better? Why even give that negative person acknowledgement?

So, I’m back. I’m ready to dive back into life and take the bull by the horns. And if you don’t like it, go ahead and try to knock me down a peg. You’re only going to look like an ass. Unfortunately now, I can’t care anymore. I won’t acknowledge it anymore. I’ve been reminded that life’s too short to focus on that or even give it a glance anymore.

To all the haters out there, thank you.

Thank you for making my backbone stronger than it ever has been in my life.

*Photo Credit: “Swimming in Broken Mirrors”, self-portrait by Caryn Drextal