Author: ninjabuns
Cuddles Change the World!
Source: Dustball Ink. (coming soon!)
This time last year, I wrote a blog about the Netflix and Chill trend. I had lamented on my tendency to accept the Netflix and Chill route because I feared true intimacy. In my opinion, I feel that one’s first sexual experience can set a tone to other sexual habits. I went on my first “real” date when I was 22, which was a lot later than most people. I didn’t date throughout high school and even undergrad because no one wanted to date me. In all fairness, I was really insecure and it’s understandable why I didn’t attract attention. The only person to show any interest in me was a grad student who was contemplating cheating on his long-term girlfriend.
While I don’t agree with deception within a monogamous relationship, I did feel compelled to entertain his flirtation because it made me feel like I wasn’t just an asexual Little Person. Thankfully, he changed his tune and found confirmation that he really cared about his girlfriend (now wife). I admittedly was disappointed because it was the first time I felt attractive and it disappeared so quickly.
My first job out of undergrad was as a website designer for a military clinic in Honolulu. I felt a lot more confident since I was done with school and found an awesome job right away while others were still searching. I was also about to move to Los Angeles to start a new life. Things were going exceptionally well and I felt at my best. About a month into my job, a cute guy in the next office asked me out to a movie. I was so elated and immediately started planning our wedding. At 22 sans dating experience, I was on cloud nine of delusional expectations of the once seemingly unattainable prospect of having a partner in this life.
He was a beautiful man and I couldn’t understand what he saw in me. I had so much anxiety, but managed to occupy my thoughts with childlike daydreams of our life together. I wanted to have a boyfriend so bad that it didn’t matter who he was as a person. He was alive, cute and appeared to like me. That’s all that mattered at that point in my life. He picked me up in a white Toyota Celica, which was a pretty sweet ride in 2006.
We saw a terrible movie, “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby”. He held my hand the whole time and I remember sweating so much he had to wipe my excessive sweat on his jeans. It was a beautiful evening. When he dropped me off, he kissed me. I didn’t know what to do! Things escalated quickly. I started the evening as a 22-year-old virgin with no game and left his car not a virgin anymore. I felt pretty gross because it wasn’t at all what I imagined. I don’t think he knew I hadn’t been with anyone else before. Maybe he did, I’ll never know.
That evening set a tone for the rest of my dating life. In my mind, I felt that it was acceptable for a man to expect sex right away. Although I’ve matured quite a bit since then, I still have some issues to resolve with my sexuality. After being (somewhat by choice) for two plus years, I’ve had a lot of time to do some self-awareness work in regards to the way I value my body. I used to think sex wasn’t a big deal, but something changed in me when I realized that all of my “relationships” lacked intimacy.
My friend (who is my unofficial life coach) shared that he had gone years without sex and dating because he didn’t want to settle for the same garbage anymore. I’ve heard this conversation several times throughout my life, but it resonated differently this year because I was finally ready to receive it without laying on my own conditioning. Having some time away from sex and men allowed me to not give a shit about it. Perhaps it’s age, but I no longer get excited about casual sex. I think it’s fine and dandy to fuck around, but it’s just not for me anymore. I would rather enjoy the intimacy of being with one person I respect.
When I look back at my partners, most of them were self-centered and had no problem exhausting my energy. They were often baby birds–helpless and in consistent need for attention. Once I nurtured them and allowed them to see their worth, they flew away to someone who they deemed worthy of a relationship. For a long time, I was fine being the baby bird attendee, but I’m officially over it. It’s not worth the fuss. I have no regrets. It took me a long time to learn the hard knock lessons accompanied with establishing boundaries and self-respect and shit. Going forward, I want to only entertain potential suitors who are like my friends–sweet as pie, smart, gorgeous, funny and most importantly, kind. Ain’t no one got time for foolishness!
Source: Dustball Ink. (coming soon!)
Love & Cuddles!
Happy Birthday John “JT” Tamaki!
When I first moved to LA (the first time) in 2006 and expressed interest in getting into the entertainment industry, I had no idea where to start. I bought a few useless acting books dripping with cheese and was consistently meeting people who had 0% interest in giving me any helpful advice. I met JT in 2007 and he was the first genuine person to offer guidance as I pursued the entertainment industry.
At the time, I was 23 and had already met my share of horrible people in Los Angeles. As a sheltered young woman from Hawaii, I was naïve as shit and thought everyone had good intentions. I was so wrong. By the time I met JT, I was so guarded and thought he was only being nice to me because he would later want something from me. Unlike most of my social circle at the time, JT was absolutely wonderful from the start. We would meet occasionally and have rich conversations. Okay, his side of the conversations had depth. I was young and superficial and all I really offered was my views on reality TV. I’m sure he was bored to tears with my silly ideas, but he just listened to me talk about my horrible boyfriend and all the other garbage floating through my mind.
I don’t have many regrets in my life, but it was so painful when I learned about his death a few months ago. While I’ve told him how much I appreciated him in subtle ways, I never really got to tell him just how much he impacted my life. His kindness and warmth inspired me to still have faith in LA humanity. After meeting JT, I had so many beautiful opportunities to meet other brilliant and kind people just like him. Being surrounded by this level of awesome expanded my capacity to see things differently. I wasn’t AS bitter and found a lot of joy in the company of good people.
I’ve always struggled in the area of accepting kindness from others. There are several reasons, but the most glaring is my inability to see my value as a person. I’m always more comfortable giving because it’s hard for me to receive kindness. It’s a weird defense mechanism I have because I don’t want to ever “owe” anyone anything. Reciprocity is regarded as a sign of respect in the Korean culture (I’m half Korean) and I always felt indebted to people who do nice things for me. I overcompensate because I don’t want to deal with the immense shame of “taking advantage” of someone.
JT never asked me for anything. His kindness healed parts my heart that felt so uncomfortable accepting unconditional love. It is not at all surprising that so many people love JT. In addition to being a talented performer, he was also committed to service in the Japanese community in Los Angeles. He asked me to get involved in Nissei Week years ago, but I was too self-absorbed to volunteer for things. I was too busy performing comedy for no pay at disgusting night clubs!
Although I still struggle with accepting love, I am so grateful that JT was so kind to me. I also learned so much from him and tried my best to emulate his beautiful heart.
JT, I know you’re out there somewhere being a beautiful light. Thank you for everything you’ve shared with me and the world. You are so missed. I’m sorry I never had a chance to tell you how much I appreciate you. Thank you for everything. You are so loved and missed!
The Reasons I’m Diana Ryl, MSW
Last summer, I created a new facebook profile in anticipation of graduating with my MSW in May 2016. In accordance to the National Association of Social Workers Code of Ethics, I wanted to make sure I established online anonymity before I would be working professionally. As a practicum student, I would often get requests from my clients to be online friends. I don’t like disappointing people (especially those who are already marginalized) and decided to create a new profile with a stuffed animal as a profile photo and the name “Diane Cheryl”. I followed the path of other social workers who used their first and middle names.
At a certain point, I didn’t feel comfortable with my middle name floating around on the internet and cut out the first three letters, which is how I got “Ryl”. It felt nice not to have an online separation from “Diane Cheryl Kawasaki” because I was trying to be a “normal” person and sever ties from my season in entertainment. When I moved back to Hawaii, I would often be asked about why I came back. Why WHY WHY? Most people thought it was being I failed miserably and needed to come home.
The truth? I was tired and grieving the loss of a friend who had been murdered in 2012, a few months before I went back to Hawaii. My perspective of life changed significantly and everything I thought I wanted didn’t have the same meaning. Making people laugh for a living felt stupid in the midst of losing someone I loved very much. I was filled with so much guilt because I blamed myself for his death. If I had only… If I was… It consumed me and I was in a deep depression for several months before I finally made the decision to leave the entertainment industry and go back to school to something with more depth than comedy/acting/blah blah blah could offer the world. I chose social work because I wanted to help others. One of the beautiful things about horrible situations is the renewed capacity to find great happiness in service to others.
When I told my best friend Jenn about my decision to go back to school, she immediately was so shocked and asked, “Is this for funzies?”. I laughed so much because she I knew she knew me THAT well to suspect something wasn’t quite right with me. At the time, I wasn’t able to properly articulate why I moved back because I was filled with emotional exhaustion. The truth was I didn’t know what to do with my life and thought maybe I should be like my childhood social worker at Shriner’s hospital because was always someone I admired.
Being an amazing best friend, Jenn tried to reason with me and when all that didn’t work, she told me, “OK. I know you want to help people, but you do realize that you don’t like people very much, right?” I laughed and told her I could probably get better at that along the way. She finally gave up and supported me along my journey throughout the Master of Social Work program at the University of Hawaii at Manoa for the next two years. Did I love being in the MSW program? HELL NO. It was misery throughout my first year and I didn’t really feel like I had any friends until my second year. I am innately a very dark person so all of the fluffy social work shit irritated me a lot. I also found it weird that the curriculum hardly ever addressed the stigmatization of people with disabilities. If I wanted to have a specialization in disability studies, I’d have to take another five classes to have a formal designation. I was quite unimpressed by the program and like a long painful bad date, I just waited for it to end.
A few months before my graduation, I was obsessed with finding a job right after. I didn’t want to be unemployed and not in school. As if my family didn’t already have several reasons to define me as a loser, I didn’t want to add to the long list. I was very insecure as I was still in the midst of a very long bout of depression. I questioned my value a lot and that mindset led me to accept an offer at a non-profit for $16.35/hr as a “trainee”. I absolutely loved the clientele, but was super sad that I had the highest education of my colleagues and got paid the least since I didn’t have “paid experience”. This particular position did not require a master’s degree or a college degree at all. Although I’ve worked in various settings throughout my life, my “unconventional resume” made it so difficult to be taken seriously in the realm of social services. A month after I was hired, someone else was hired and because she had more paid experience, she was paid $2 more an hour.
Since I was living with my family, I was willing to “pay my dues” and suck it up. I worked 60 hours a week and was paid for 40 because like everything else I do, I get obsessed with learning as much as I can. I’ve never enjoyed jobs that were just to make money. I thrive off of my own passion and would rather do what I love and get paid nothing than do something that kills my soul for money (okay, maybe it depends on how much–we all have a price!). I’ve done so many horrible things for money. So many. Too many to address right now.
In August, I had a meltdown at work. I was put in an unsafe situation (that I can’t discuss due to a pending investigation), which triggered an assault trauma I experienced when I was 23. I couldn’t go back to work because when I feel unsafe, I #GTFO. I gave them numerous chances to rectify several inconsistencies, but mostly all of those went unacknowledged and I just had to deal with it because I was insignificant. Looking back, I manifested it all. I didn’t respect myself to wait for something better to come along because I didn’t think I was worthy. I allowed my depression + anxiety + low self-esteem to dictate my worth, which is almost always leads to a shitty outcome.
When life falls apart, amazing opportunities to see people as they are start to emerge like crazy. For the last month, I’ve been doing things that bring me joy. For the first time in my life, I’ve been taking care of myself and honoring my needs. I’ve naturally always felt led to care for others, but this time, I was so broken that I only had enough energy for myself. A lot of people I thought were friends turned out to be just fun acquaintances. At the same time, my true friends were shining brighter than ever. Once I let go of the relationships that didn’t bring light into my life, all sorts of amazing things happened and I felt genuinely happy. A lot of people that have only known me since returning to Hawaii think I’ve lost my mind. The “new” old me finally came back and I’m on a new path. While I don’t know what the next few months will have in store, I don’t feel worried about it. I’ve only shared my situation with a few trusted people. As soon as someone tells me I need to be worried, I no longer entertain their fears for me.
Two weeks ago, I saw my friend Amy Stiller‘s BEAUTIFUL one-person show called, “Just Trust” and it changed my perspective. I was inspired to trust and be in flow instead of the constant anxiety I’ve been led by for the last few years. So many things have been developing and I have been so fortunate to connect with amazing people that are on the same “Just Trust” wavelength. Some of my other friends have let me know just how crazy I appear on social media. I don’t really mind because I’m #DoneAF with compromising my happiness to make other people comfortable. If people can’t handle the real me, #ByeFelicia.
In regards to social work, I have no regrets. I learned so much from my classmates/lifelong friends and my mentors. My world view has completed shifted. I used to be a superficial, self-absorbed cuntasaurus and now I’m less shitty. I still have so much to learn, but I am beyond grateful for the opportunity to have everything fall away so I can have a second chance at being my authentic self. Who knows what’s ahead, but all I know is that i’m going to be more chill and JUST TRUST. Love and Cuddles!
(Source: Look Human)
Thanks Paula, I love this!!!
Kindness for Dummies: …or call the police!
I had such an amazing day! I was consistently surrounded by wonderful people who shared so much light with me. My last stop for the day was buying a duffle bag at Ross on my way home at about 9:30pm. I was waiting in a long line of tourists when a little boy in front of me started pointing and teasing me. His Dad immediately told him: “stop being rude or I’ll have to call the police”. It was adorable and admittedly very satisfying to see his demeanor change. I tapped his Mom on the arm and told her I really appreciated that they didn’t ignore me like most parents in Hawaii tend to do when their kids poke fun at me.
She told me that she doesn’t want her children (she was also holding an infant) to be rude to other people. I shared that it was one of very experiences I’ve had where I felt supported in this sort of situation. She seemed surprised and I asked her if she was visiting Hawaii (I went to a Ross store with heavy tourist traffic). She said she was visiting from Sydney, Australia. We briefly discussed our shared love for Tim Tams and said our goodbyes as we reached the cashier.
I was a bit surprised because I’ve heard from several people that Australians are quite the opposite of this lovely family. Although I’ve never visited Australia, I’ve heard so any horror stories of people with disabilities being treated poorly. It made me think about my own impression of Hawaii. I miss California so much my heart hurts. At the same time, there are so many things about Hawaii that I do appreciate. I have a great support system here and it is beautiful (especially the drive out to Kaneohe via Like Like Highway).
Today was filled with beautiful examples of amazing people who reside in Hawaii. I was met with so much kindness and love today. I want to be less sad when I meet ignorant people. I want to be able to more calm. I want to be able to freely accept that someone’s perception of me does not define my value. I’m working on it. It’s also #UnreasonableAF to expect someone to accept shitty treatment. There’s a balance. I don’t know what it is, but I imagine it’s somewhere along the lines of “don’t be an asshole”.
The next time someone treats me like shit, I’m going to call the police on their dummy ass! Love and cuddles!
From #SweatyAF to “Let’s love ourselves more” within 10 hours
Today I moved to a new office space and I was so excited! My morning started up with several unexpected issues and I rushed to haul everything in one trip. It’s about a 5-minute walk and my schedule didn’t allow for two trips. My original #Instagram post was written while I was catching my breath after struggling up a poorly paved road. I lied about not feeling sorry for myself. Although I wasn’t in full-on self-pity mode, I did feel a little sad for myself. Like every situation involving human beings, the photo does not provide an accurate glimpse of what led up to this particular Instagram post. I didn’t feel sad about carrying things, but I did feel very unsupported. Was it anyone’s fault? Yes. Mine.
This was my original post:
Now that I’m sitting comfortably in AC and no longer a sweaty animal, I’m feeling so silly that I felt like I didn’t have support because I didn’t ask. I work with the most incredible people and if I had asked, I would’ve easily gotten some assistance in lightening the weight of this trek to my new office space. The truth is I have a huge problem with asking for help. Perhaps it’s rooted in fear that I’ll be seen as “less than” if I let people know I need assistance. I chose to work in a helping profession because I genuinely enjoy assisting other people realize their own potential. When it comes to other people, I am happy to assist and always encourage my clients to utilize their resources.
When it comes to making sure my own needs are met, I would… rather not. Like many other social workers, I don’t do a great job at taking care of myself. I ate lunch at 4:30pm before my last client was scheduled at 5pm. Instead of leaving by 7pm (I actually finish at 4:30pm), I stayed a little later and tried to organize my space so my desk wouldn’t look like a wreck tomorrow. I’m primarily motivated by being useful for others because I spent most of my life feeling quite uncomfortable if I wasn’t occupying all my time being productive. The only time I feel okay about relaxing is when I’m in the midst of a bout of depression and it’s hard for me to convince myself to wear pants. Continue reading “From #SweatyAF to “Let’s love ourselves more” within 10 hours”
When it comes to Mental Health, don’t be a freeloader!
I know I tend to overshare on my blogs, posts, etc., but I actually have a really difficult time expressing intimate details with friends. Sometimes people get defensive and think it has to do with trust issues, but the reality is that I’ve been conditioned not to talk about my issues. I don’t talk, I write. Over the weekend, I met with one of my mentors because I’m going through some personal matters. Instead of talking to her, I printed out an email I had sent because I knew I wouldn’t be able to even graze the surface if I relied on verbal words alone. I don’t like to talk about things because it’s very painful for me. I’m super good at hiding pain. I’m a lot like a bunny.
Secret Lives of PetsAs vulnerable creatures, they are in constant fear of predators and will it becomes second nature to hide their weaknesses. They look fine on the outside, but inside they’re physically suffering. I don’t know if bunnies experience sadness in the way humans do, but I understand their reasoning for keeping that shit to themselves. I don’t need to talk to a lot of friends because I see a therapist regularly to sort things out. There is a stigma and all, but the reality is that we humans come with a lot of shit and that shit is probably better suited to be properly handled by a pro. Therapists aren’t perfect. Some of them suck juicy ass, but others are really amazing. It’s like any other relationship, it just takes a bit of self-awareness and research to find a good fit. I’m very fortunate to be connected with good people (haha, I have two!).
Continue reading “When it comes to Mental Health, don’t be a freeloader!”
Confessions of a Little Thirrrsty *****
Recently, I’ve been more intentional about keeping these powerful words close to my heart. While I appear to be a **** off-faced bitch most of the time, I have the tendency to be more empathetic than I should be. I know this may come off as a passive-aggressive “take this hint” sort of post, but it’s not directed to anyone in particular. I have been very fortunate to identify people and experiences in a truer light since coming out of my recent season of depression. I’ve invested so much time and energy into people who only took from me while I spent less time focusing on those who bring so much light into my life. There’s a part of me that still longs to be validated by people who make me feel insecure. This level of desperation has driven me to all sorts of dark places that always led back to feeling unworthy. Although I didn’t recognize it before, I can clearly recognize seasons where I acted and felt as if my only purpose was to occupy space.
As I move forward in my 30s, I’ve been redirecting my energy towards the people who have been consistent and away from those who only brought sadness in my life. While I love these people very much, I also recognize that it’s time to love myself a little bit more. Self-respect is an ongoing lesson for me. Although I’ve come very far throughout the years, I know there is still so much more to learn. Continue reading “Confessions of a Little Thirrrsty *****”
Are you a comedian or just a regular asshole? I can’t tell.
Last night I went to a comedy show in Hawaii and I was so happy that not even one performer used the word “midget” in their sets. I had promised friends to take them to a local comedy show and I finally delivered. The last time I took my friend to see one of my favorite comedians Ian Edwards because we were lucky he stopped by in Honolulu.
One of the openers did some crowd work and said something along the lines of “I know she’s (pointing at me) here, but I’m going to say it anyway”. Oh shit. He told an awkward (probably fake) story about how he slept with a blind person and or something and somehow associated it with me. Like a lot of uninformed Americans, he made the assumption all disabled people are the same (and need to be made fun of!). He reenacted himself doing nasty things to this person and at some point eluded that the gross experience was probably how I have sex. Some people laughed while most of the audience probably had their buttholes clenched tight like I did. I was thrilled when he finally stopped talking. Continue reading “Are you a comedian or just a regular asshole? I can’t tell.”
“Shut up and sit down!” …ok (but not for long)
I used to take the bus to and from an early headstart (special ed) pre-school. At the time, I didn’t know that it was only for “special” kids. Every child on TV took the bus and I was genuinely excited to go to school. I stopped taking the bus when I started public school and soon learned the “R-word” when the asshole kids would tease students who rode the bus. I was shocked and a bit embarrassed. I didn’t defend them because I was afraid I would also get teased. While I wasn’t one to defend, I sure didn’t join the asshole party and say mean things.
One night in a bar in LA, I was talking to a few awesome friends who had similar experiences. We exchanged stories and I learned that I wasn’t the only one who felt shitty about the labels associated with a seat on the “short bus”. One of my favorite classmates was a guy named K. He didn’t use words to communicate and he had to wear a helmet because he had to wear one for some reason. As an only child, I really enjoyed being around other kids and I didn’t notice a difference between me and K because I wasn’t conditioned to scrutinize diversity yet. Continue reading ““Shut up and sit down!” …ok (but not for long)”
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