mine.

i'm spoiled. this isn't a news, and it definitely isn't earth-shattering, but lately i've been learning, in fuller detail, the extent to which i secretly wish the entire universe revolved around me. it's never easy to come to the realization, as a youngest sibling - the baby - that maybe all of those assertions made by child psychologists (and eldest siblings) are right.

for years we deny any possibility of our selfishness, neediness, dependency on everyone else in the family, in favor of rougher, tougher light.

we aren't pampered and soft, we say, and we certainly aren't self-absorbed or offered special allowances.

but we totally were.

are.

at least, i was and am.

looking back, i know that none of the Toro girls managed to survive childhood with our parents completely unscathed.

there were consistencies in all of our upbringings: the shouting, the insecurities, the high bars. if anything, we were brought up to fill in those voids that went unchecked in our mother's own childhood.

and if there's one thing about unfilled voids, it's that some things just don't fit, and try as you might, you can never really force them to without ripping pieces apart.

but i don't pretend to completely relate to the strife my sisters endured.

true, i'm still wildly insecure about a number of really arbitrary and minute things: i still experience severe anxiety episodes and my trichotillomania was never completely cured. but i still fared way better than my sisters did.

i had the benefit of being the youngest. the privilege. the kind of thing that you never realize when you're growing up and going through the motions of dumbshitty adolescence. the kind of thing that, in all your spoiledness, neediness, self-absorption, you take for granted.

the eldest Toro girl was the experiment, really. our parents, very young and very clueless and idealistic and desperate, didn't know what they were doing. and, on top of all of this, they were out of place. always out of place, as they were always on the move.

finally, our mother managed to escape Korea, but it was only to find a place that was anything but welcoming or accommodating to one-half of a mixed-race, young, immigrant couple.

and she floundered.

and our father didn't know how to cope: the denial of his own ethnic background, and any implications of his own potential Otherness, which he thought he'd pulled off for the entirety of his youth, was finally facing him head-on. suddenly, he was Different.

at least, more Different than he was prior to his hurried marriage.

so they were naive, and unprepared for much else besides the wedding night.

so much so that our mother's very first pregnancy ended in an abortion.

the second pregnancy came only very shortly afterward, though, and little time prepared for almost no improvement in their situation.

and Olivia was born.

and they weren't ready.

and Olivia suffered.

more deeply than anyone could ever imagine.

and when Annie came along, a couple of years later, they were financially in a slightly better place, and they had a little more experience.

and there were newer issues.

new pains.

slightly different pains.

and Annie suffered, too.

and Olivia and Annie, together, were put through another kind if hell, though i suppose it was slightly more tolerable than the last.

but nothing could completely erase the anguish our mother was hiding from everyone: the kind that managed to manifest itself in the quieter corners of every Toro's life.

she wouldn't scream about the language barrier she was forced to confront, daily, and she didn't hit for the emptiness she felt because of unrealized dreams; instead, she would make a raucous over the smaller things, in ways that were beyond a child's comprehension.

almost four years later, when things were a little more stable, i came along.

i was quiet from birth, which was lucky.

i never asked for much, and i rarely cried - staying silent was something that seemed to pay off for the earlier years.

nobody questioned it.

with all the business that came with moving and settling down, over and over again, the only real concerns had to do with the things that could stay consistently managed: not so much on people and friends, but more on our music, swimming, and academics.

if we managed to keep the three essentials under control, then all of the other superfluous things would fall into place, too.

but i was spoiled.

really, i had to deal with much of the same restrictions as my sisters for the first decade or so, but things changed.

even i noticed.

who knows what might've incited the shift: it could've been the call from an elementary school teacher who was worried because i hadn't spoken a word to anyone in six months, or the clear increase in trichotillomania.

in the end, i tend to think it had more to do with the fact that, finally, i got the chance to stay and grow up, at least partially, in one place.

as Olivia and Annie both only had a few years left before college, it wasn't a new experience for them: they spent as much time in Virginia as they had everywhere else we've lived.

so we settled down a bit.

the same expectations were there, but i had a new sense of being grounded.

i had a place i could escape to, even when things got bad.

and my parents had fewer worries to occupy them.

with a steadier hand, they could hone in on other aspects of my life that had previously gone unnoticed.

i got to make a more permanent group of friends, and i felt safe.

slowly but surely, i opened up to people and let myself get close.

granted, i still had certain insecurities that more or less stemmed from fear of my own mother, on top of other things, but i had a home.

and my parents had a home, too.

and, being the only kid left in this home, i reaped the benefits.

and nowadays, after leaving for college, i'm coming to terms with other ways in which i'm spoiled.

my mother was robbed of her dreams.

my father dealt with much of the same, but, given his gender and locality, was afforded more freedom and ultimately found what he was looking for.

so they never stifled my own dreams.

sure, there were subtle hints dropped here and there, for my own good, i suppose, but now i'm at my dream school, and i'm out, and i'm happy.

my pipe dream of being a comedy writer - which is probably shared by billions - still isn't unrealistic.

i'm an investment, they told me, and they're just waiting for the return.

and i'm happy.

it took awhile to get here, and it wasn't easy, but i'm here.

and i'm happy.

hoofah!

yes, hoofah.

why?

it's been ages since my last post.

how long?

a number that's much higher than i'm able to count t0.

how come?

so many things to do.

and learning, learning, learning:

1. i'm gonna do it. comedy, i mean. yes. writing. i'm shit at it, but i'm less shitty at it than i am at other things.

like math.

or taking care of old people.

2. i'm wildly immature. it's true. and i'm hoping the fact that i'm more aware of this will help me to finally grow up.

all there is to do now is get over my fear of growing up.

fearofoldnessphobia.

which, incidentally, is tied to my fear of Depends.

3. on top of the whole immaturity thing, i need to work out my relationship issues.

honestly, i don't know what the heck is wrong with me.

so many wonderful people - all of whom are clearly out of my league - come into my life and i end up panicking and letting them slip away, or not letting things develop in the first place.

i don't know what's wrong with me.

i think it has something to do with the fact that i'm pretty sure that someday they'll realize they're too good for me and'll end up leaving me anyway.

and sometimes i think i'm too picky.

i'm still ridiculously inexperienced and therefore naive and too expectant of first love experiences.

or any kind of love experience.

i'm always subconsciously looking for that initial spark, and if it's not there then i immediately give up.

and this is no good because sometimes i wonder if i just don't let myself feel that spark.

anywho, i've got issues to work out.

maybe being more assertive'll force me out of my own head.

4. i think my comedy schtick'll have something to do with my cluelessness. lately i've been trying to think of ways to write a routine or sketch of some kind that's laden with innuendo that's doubly hilarious because the actual speaker is unaware of it all.

work in progress.

tough.

but it's the kind of tough that i think i'll actually enjoy.

5. i miss swimming. i really do. sometimes i still wonder if it's too late to make something out of it. i never thought i'd miss morning practices and dryland and competition, but i do. i need to get back into it.

6. i also miss music. tomorrow i'm going to cut my nails and suck it up and practice. maybe. when everyone's out of the house or i manage to sneak into the USC music halls like i did during my freshman and sophomore years.

7. i've been swearing a lot lately. i need to stop. i might invest in a swear jar, and at the end of every week i'll take the jar out on the town and give its contents to the first hobo i meet.

though, this is even more incentive to increase my swearing.

...i've never actually understood the purpose and effectiveness of swear jars.

anywho, that's where i'm at at the moment. well, there and underneath a massive pile of homework i'm ignoring right now.

which i should probably get to.

k, bye.