Tuesday, 30 October 2012

Blocked Memories: Part Two.

*A word of caution, This blog is sexually explicit. It contains details of underage promiscuity and sexuality. It also contains details of sexual assault, molestation, and underage abusive relationships. If this is offensive or triggering in any way please do not read. I read and answer as many emails as I can each week, but I only respond to negative messages worth responding to. This blog will be different; I will not respond to any negative messages regarding this blog. Thank you.

Hello Readers. After unblocking a few memories from my childhood and revealing they were positive, I knew what other memories I had to work on as well. Growing up I was very promiscuous. But not every sexual interaction was something I wanted. I have been sexually assaulted many times, molested many times, in a sexually abusive "relationship", and almost raped. It all started when I was just a kid, and finally ended in the middle of high school. The first boy and the last guy are the ones I really remember, It's the in between that's so foggy and locked up in my mind.

The sexual assaults that occurred between the first and the last are all a fog. I can remember who for the most part, and what happened, I can remember the season and what I was wearing, but it's not a clear memory I can recall perfectly. It happened with many different guys growing up. All making it very clear that they were either into Asians, wanted to experience an Asian woman, or that they had been waiting a long time to fuck around with the famous Morgan "The Asian" Pearson, because she was a very fun and extremely talented and gifted Asian slut. They all kissed and groped me, pinning me against walls, pulling me to them, and holding me underneath them. None of the guys between the first and the last tried to rape me, but many of them fingered me and pulled me breasts of out my shirt
to play with in all kinds of ways.

Most victims don't come forward because they're afraid no one will believe them, that people will think they were asking for it, or that they themselves think they deserved it. Other victims don't come forward because they're threatened. Other than the last guy I never felt truly threatened by anyone. But they all made it clear that it had something to do with me being Asian. That fact alone made me feel like worthless shit. I was ashamed and embarrassed each time, that it was only happening to me because I was Asian. Other than the last guy the assaults only happened once with each guy. If I could just remember more, and that is what I will be working with my therapist on. She is currently being trained to recover blocked memories.

In my head at the time telling any adult, close friends, boyfriends, my parents, or sister the shameful thing that was happening to me and that it was because I was Asian.. Was like me admitting I was ashamed of being Asian. And I knew I could never stop being Asian. It just felt like I was stuck with it, that this is just what happens to Asian woman. What else could I do?

Most of you know when I was in 4th grade or so I'm not totally sure, That I had my first sexual assault. I was on the playground after lunch at my elementary school, and a boy I've know my whole life came up to me. He grabbed my breasts with both hands. While laughing at me he said, "I thought Asians were supposed to be flat!" I had started developing very early.. But I barely even knew the stereotype of flat chested Asian woman then. I have no idea how he did.

I was humiliated and embarrassed, I looked around and no one had been watching. I felt so alone that weather someone had seen it or not, no one stopped him. Thinking hard about it now I remember he didn't just grab me.. (And now I'm crying.) He squeezed them in his hands hard twice before he let go. And he didn't laugh until after he said those things to me. The way he said it, it was stoic and cold. After that I had to finish elementary school with him, and we went to junior high together. Luckily for me we never had any classes together, so I never had to see him. He might have gone to high school with me, but I never saw him.

The last time I was sexually assaulted was in high school. It was the winter of my sophomore year. Still just a young stupid kid right? I had gone to junior high with him, but we were never friends. I was always nice to him though. He was introverted, and I always go out of my way to be kind to those shy and quiet who socially get treated terribly by their peers. That fall he had been hitting on me and making comments on my goth corsets, He said he wished all girls wore them. He also said how much into asian girls he was. It was creepy and weird, but I was a young girl starving for some kind of love and acceptance. Unfortunately I was looking for those things in sexual promiscuity; Exactly where love and acceptance can't be found.

He asked me out and I went to one movie with him. Why not? It seemed harmless, and he was nice. He seemed sweet. On the car ride back, He announced to his mom [who was driving us], that I was his girlfriend! I think she might have even congratulated us. The red alert went off in my head! How could I be his girlfriend? We went to a fucking movie and held hands, We didn't make out a bunch of times and then had a discussion on what to call what we're doing!? But his mom was right there all happy and so was he.. So again I was like why not? None of my relationships last past a month anyways, what's one month of my life really going to hurt? If only I had known then.

For the next couple of weeks we'd go to his house and watch a movie, or play video games. We were always in the basement, I never saw the rest of his house. I only had cell reception down there on the stairs and then it was gone, so I'd always carelessly through my phone in the corner as joke. It seemed like a red alarm to be alone with a boy I barely knew, but his parents were always right upstairs in the living room.. We were in white suburbia, have known of each other since we were 12, and went to the best public high school in the midwest.. It seemed safe enough right?

He didn't even really want to kiss me ever except goodnight, which always struck me as strange. We were boyfriend and girlfriend and he wasn't into kissing me. Except for these weird times where that's all he wanted to do, but it was strange like he had no feeling in it. It was like he wasn't into it, but would randomly push for a lot of kissing as if it was something I wanted and a project for him. But he did want to jump right into fingering me, and feel me up all the time. I found myself fighting back tears and just taking it.. Pretending that his actions were normal.

One night he was so into the video games we hadn't talked at all. He was sitting in front of the big chair we always sat on. I was bored out of my mind so I slid my hips forward and put my legs on either side of him and started playing with his hair and giggling to get his attention. I just wanted him to come up and cuddle me while he played, at least then I'd be doing something..

He said, "Oh I know what you want" in a voice that clearly didn't know what I wanted.. This time he didn't just pull my pants down a little.. He pulled them off onto the floor. He pushed me back into the chair and I started flatly saying, "No we shouldn't." He took his small self out and tried to push himself inside me. Luckily he was lying about not being a virgin and had no idea what he was doing. He just kept trying to push himself into my clit. It hurt so much, but I was in such a fog I barely felt it at the time. Later that night at home I was throbbing from the pain. I was actually not a virgin, but I was not about to give him any direction. I just laid there whimpering "no" and "we shouldn't" as if I had some sort of choice in his sick world..

The world I was in was dull and the only thing I could focus on was being able to look over his shoulder and see my cellphone in the corner of the room. I kept wishing I had it in my hand and could call my mom to take me home. I kept begging myself for it, but then I had no idea what I'd say to her. How could I explain this? How could I tell her I'm not a virgin and that fooling around with guys, and being good at is was what I do all the time? How could I tell her I was so fucked up I lost my virginity when I was 15!? How could I tell her it all happens, because I'm Asian and not white like her? How could a white woman understand that?! I couldn't. So I stopped wishing for my phone, leaned me head back, and stared at the ceiling.

He finally got tired and gave up. Then he did again what he thought every woman wanted after "sex" or for him "almost rape", He pulled me over to the couch so we could make out. Then it was time to go home.

After that I didn't see him because he went out of the country for Christmas. The day he got back he was late coming to school, but he told me to wait for him.. I was scared of him, so I did as I was told. He gave me my Christmas gift on the steps at school. It was a half carat diamond piece of jewelry. It was beautiful, and to this day the most expensive and nicest gift I had gotten from any guy. He acted like a big shot, but also as if to say, "no harm done." I still have it too, even wore it
from time to time in high school. It was a horrible gift from him, but in my social world you don't give rid of diamonds and diamonds are meant to be seen. Refusing to wear it would also mean telling why I didn't want to wear it.

After he gave me my Christmas gift he told me we were skipping class, So I did. He took me to one of the stairs wells, we hid underneath the stairs. He then unzipped his pants and expected me to suck his small member. I was stunned, we were in school! Anyone could see us! We'd be in a kind of trouble I'd have never known! But he was waiting for me to start doing it.. As I lowered me head and started he started saying the weirdest shit. Like friggen facts about how long it can take for a guy to cum, Did you know it can take 7 even up to 13 minutes? Because I'm pretty sure it's more of a "times may vary" kind of thing.

After a few minutes I lied and said my jaw and arm were tired. Once again he thought I just wanted to make out, but I stood up and said I really had to get to class. I walked until he was out of sight, and then a ran like hell to class. Since a lot of our classmates knew what he had boughten me, I had to act all proud about the diamond piece of jewelry. After class I ran to bathroom and cried about what he had just made me do and everything that lead up to it. Then I put my new piece of diamond jewelry on and told everyone how much I loved it.

After that we never spoke again. Until a year or so after high school had ended. I Facebookd him! I got the nerve to message him and told him that he molested me and tried to rape me. He simply messaged back that I was a liar and that I wanted it. I told him that I didn't and I kept saying no and for him to stop the whole time, and then I blocked him.

I will hate him forever. I will hate both of them forever. I will always hate all of them for using me just because I'm Asian. At least I wish I hated them, But as hard as it is I believe in forgiveness for all human beings. I will forever be angry though. I am so proud of being and looking the way I do. I am a strong Korean woman, And I will always be this way.

Monday, 29 October 2012

Blocked Memories: Part One.

Hello Readers. Last time I said I had two major psychological break throughs to share with you. The first I will share right now. A few weeks ago I started telling my adoptive mom more about how I always felt like the black sheep growing up. How even on family vacations I always thought that they'd all have more fun if I wasn't there. I told her that I never felt close to any of them growing up and that none of them ever wanted to be close to each other or to me.

As always my adoptive mom said she had no idea why I felt that way, and she's sorry about my own feelings. But this time she didn't leave it at just that. She told me when I was a kid people always thought she had the most fun with my sister since she has always been so passive and quite. My mom told them she actually had the most fun with me because I was so outgoing. Can you believe it? She said she had the most fun with me, The daughter who I thought she basically hated.

I started to think back to my childhood, and I actually remember her saying things like that to other parents at class parties. I remember when she came through the door with the other parents to set up the parties.. [And now I'm crying.] I'd basically stop paying attention in class, because I wanted to run up and hug my mom and introduce her to all the other parents and my friends.

Looking back to all my negative childhood memories and thoughts of hating myself for being the black sheep of the family.. I felt negative the whole time, But my mom would always be smiling at me. How could I block out her smiles? So maybe my childhood wasn't so horrible as I had always thought, even when I was living it as a child. I was so traumatized from being adopted as a kid that everything, even if positive I viewed and took in negatively. I had no idea you could block out good memories, but that's just how my trauma manifested to protect me as a child and even as a young adult.

These newly defined memories led me to thinking about other traumas I had to grow up with, but that will be in my next blog.

Friday, 26 October 2012

The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.

Hello Readers! I know I'm really behind on blogs and updates, and to be honest I haven't been writing at all for weeks. Some days I'm in a complete fog lost in my own thoughts and other days I'm moving around a mile a minute. This weekend I plan on catching up on my blogs; I have really big psychological break throughs to share with you.

I'm writing this blog right now to share something incredible. As many of you know I'm a big fan of indie tunes and am an Uptown hipster, city girl, and indie kid. One of my favorite bands, a band that I grew up with is The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. A year or so ago they posted a number for them fans to call and talk to them. Well last night they did it again!

I called and left a message talking to them about my blog. I told them they didn't need to repost the link or anything, but to please check it out. I told them how much my blog and helping other adoptees meant to me. Then I hung up and called right back, and their inbox was already full! I kind of freaked out that my voice message might not have saved and started calling them like crazy.

I made one last call, and it rang!! One of them picked up and I just started rambling like a trackless idiot about being a South Korean adoptee, and my blog, and international adoption, and on and on until I went blank and stopped talking! They told me to send them a message with the link, that it was the best way for them to check it out. I tried to write a message to them that was written in my style, with all the info.. Now after sending it.. It's pretty choppy and ineloquently written, But the message is out there even if written a little wonky.

So here's to hoping they are able to get through all their Facebook messages to mine and are able to check out this blog! *Raises Camelbak Water Bottle *Clunk

After I got off the phone and the shock sharpened I got so emotional and excited I started crying uncontrollably! I am still very emotional that I'm shaking as I write this, But it's a happy shake! The kind that will lead me to dancing to "You Better Pray" right after I post this!

The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus: Guys if you're reading this, Thank you again for talking my call. I know it's completely random as to whose call you do and don't take, But thank you for answering. Thank you for reading this. It truly means the world to me and my readers. I know I only have a couple followers and no one ever comments on here, but my inbox is flooded with over 100 emails every week. Every new person who reads this has a better understanding of what it means to be an international adoptee; A true look into a world they'd other wise hardly know existed. But we do exist, and it's such a privilege to be able to reach out to you guys, a group of people I'd normally never be able to make contact with. Thank you for taking the time out of your amazingly complex and busy schedule for this. You guys are so fantastically rad and rock spectacularly hard!

I am truly elated right now; I feel happy.

Sunday, 7 October 2012

What I Have To Live With As "Normal".

Hello Readers. I don't know how to get people to understand what it's like when you don't like your adoption. I don't know how to get others to understand what its like to be physically yellow and culturally white in a white world. How do I get people to understand when it all goes wrong and you just want to stop your life. You want stay in bed everyday because even if you move on, even if you thrive the facts don't change. You will never get out the facts; You're trapped in them forever. I can only lay out the facts that I have to live with everyday. Things you've never had to give a thought to on living with.

I was born without my parents. My whole birth family is back in Korea. I call them family, but they are complete strangers. My birth brings my family shame. My overseas and interracial adoption brings my country shame. My birth mother could be the only person there who knows I exist. I literally can't communicate with her because I have never met her, and because we literally do not speak the same language. There's an 80% chance that she is a rape victim. Which means I invaded a rape victim's body for 9 months, and her first experience with "motherhood" was birthing her rape baby. I am a constant reminder of her assault, and her living nightmare.

I was taken from my home in Korea. Where everyone looks like me, Eats the food their bodies were meant for, and speaks the language their tongues were born to produce. My birth tradition and culture is there, things that I will never learn the same way I would have if I had been able to stay. Those things and opportunities, to be a real Korean were taken from me when I was only 4 months old. Thousands of years of my heritage was stolen from me before I could crawl. My ancestors, my birth family, and maybe even my birth mother are buried there. That soil is sacred to me and it is the home I have never known. I have been homeless for over 21 years.

I was white washed when I was only a 4 month old baby. America took my memories. America took my identity and tore my insides to shreds! Now I can only look Korean. It took me my whole life till my 21st birthday to finally get the guts to get my Korean bangs cut. Because I was scared of looking like something I never knew and missed more than you could ever imagine! And also because I was scared of looking even more not white! I was scared of looking what Americans call "exotic" when I'm just trying to be my fucking self. I'm just trying to be who I was supposed to be!

I'm trying to find Kang Sun Lee. America took her and murdered her the day I came to the states. The movement I got off that plane and you people started calling me Morgan Claire Pearson, You murdered her. She didn't even have one chance to prove she was worth something.

I grew up trying to suppress her. I grew up being ashamed of her. Ashamed that I tanned so dark, confused as to why I loved speech food soo much, and crying myself to sleep I was so lost. I was forced to forget who I was, and who I'm supposed to be. Every night since I was a child I'm haunted by the same dream or nightmare of being a baby in hospital being taking away from my parents.

While you can call you're mom up on her cell and make plans for lunch, I have to dedicated my life to finding mine. You know how back in high school your parents would stay up late for you to get home on time. Maybe once or twice they panicked and called and texted you a million times.. But your phone was off, and a million horrible things Sprinted through their minds. That's what I live with everyday. I am panicking that I can't get ahold of her! I am panicking that I might never get ahold of her, or that when I do it will be too late and she'll be dead.

And this.. This is just the beginning of the list. There's a whole lifetime of things you will never have to consider your every day, your "normal", your life. This is a small small fraction of what I have to live with and try to accept everyday.

Now tell me this isn't as traumatic as living through a plane crash. Tell me I can't just stay in bed forever. Even though for the first time in my life I want to live, and for the first time in my life I'm getting happy.. I still view my bed as an option.