One thing I've always been interested in (or confused by, depending on the day) is perspective. Like, for example, how the same story or situation can look almost-totally different depending on the teller, or the mood, or the angle, or the reflection of light, or the time of sunset, or whathaveyou. It fascinates me. It also frustrates me because it means that I can very rarely trust myself or my feelings. I mean, how legitimate can my opinion BE if life looks radically different to different people who all think that they are right? On a larger school-ish level this translates into Epistemic theories of truth, but on a more pragmatic, everyday level, it translates into a great deal of ... well, pondering. Am I really right? Are my feelings legitimate? Should I try to look at this from another angle? How would another person see this? What would Jesus (or Buddha or my mom or William James or Henry James* or my academic coordinator) do? Oh, it's all so stressful!
This is relevant because I just spent two days with my in-laws and when I sat down to write about it, I left out the crappy bits and just reported the Sunshine & Peaches Version. But I felt like an absolute f(l)ake because - really - for days after Mister Lee's family left I wavered between tears & rage/self-pity & hatred. I was so upset that - I kid you not - I almost quit my job and packed my bags for Canada.
So I re-wrote my Chuseok Story, with italics. It's more honest and it gives me some release.
Our Chuseok Story.
The Bright Side (and the dark side)
Well, I signed up for a craaa-zeee life when I married the Illustrious Mister Lee, so it shouldn't have come as a shock to me when he announced that we were not going to his family's home for the holidays - but that they were coming to us. On one hand, this was good news, because I hate traveling without a car seat. And the deep bowing. Oh, the bowing. I may never master that.
But on the other hand, it was bad news, because it meant that we had to entertain. During Chuseok. In our wee flat. With no idea of when they would leave. And it was also Mister Lee's mother's birthday. Oh, gods.
But I have to say: we rallied. We tried our best. I kept my whining to a minimum. I cleaned and scrubbed floors. We washed the bedding and bought some chuseok gifts. We stocked the fridge, we made sure there were lots of little towels in the bathroom cabinet and big plastic bowls in the bathtub. We casually-but-conveniently placed rolls of toilet paper around the apartment and made sure there were cleaning supplies in the cabinets. We cleaned behind Hayden's ears. And we braced ourselves.
And it was horrible. But also wonderful. Depending on your perspective or the time of day. Here are the highlights that have been souring my soul for the past week:
Mister Lee's mother took us shopping and bought Hayden some new clothes (because the ones she had were ugly and unacceptable.)
We had cake and happily exchanged presents (until Mister Lee's mother decided to tell me that the 200 dollar gold bracelet I gave her was only 18 caret gold and that the one she was already wearing was 24 caret gold.)I made spaghetti for everyone (which my mother -in-law sent BACK to the kitchen because she felt the pasta wasn't cooked enough.)
Mister Lee's mother taught me how to make some Korean dishes (and used that kitchen opportunity to return the Rubbermaid (TM) containers I gave her 5 months ago, telling me she had no space for them. Go ahead, click. LOOK AT THEM).
We all played with beautiful Hayden in her hanbok (who got to wear lipstick and mascara for the first time.)
We hung out in the apartment and watched a movie (which was too loud, there was a mosquito in the room, the room was too hot, the room was too cold and, eventually, the movie was too long).
We hung out with Mister Lee's younger sister who left her trash lying around the apartment, blatantly and cruelly ignored Hayden, and told her mother that I (or perhaps the apartment) smelled "strange".
Mister Lee's mother sized me up good and proper, had ABSOLUTELY NOTHING nice to say, and then told me that my hair needed to be dyed. Tsk tsk. Aieggoooo. Tut tut.
I'm trying to be a bit funny about the situation because I KNOW that my mother-in-law is negative, and will always find something to complain about. I KNOW that she sees it as her job to critique me. And I KNOW she adores Hayden. And I KNOW that her perspective must be very different. Like, I'm sure she didn't drive back to Ulsan happily congratulating herself for making me feel haggard, cheap and clumsy.
Right?
But honestly, if you had been a fly on the wall over Chuseok, you would have seen me in hot burning tears far. too. many. times. I was - I still am - very upset by whole situation. I've had a lot of time to think about my 2 days with my in-laws and so far I've gathered this much wool:
- My biggest beef is really with myself. I'm over-sensitive, slightly paranoid, uncertain about my cultural positioning and insecure. And possibly hormonal. And a tad tired. I let her make me feel bad because I'm not confident enough with myself. Sounds like cheap 80's psychology but it feels right.- My greatest grief is that I can't talk to Mister Lee about this. He will not - can not - should not (?) - tolerate any criticism of his mother. I love that about him but I'm mourning the fact that he's my best friend yet I can't air my grief or rant to him about these things.
There's no resolution here; I'm just going to have to work on this stuff and try to find some peace before it gobbles me up from the inside. But, just in case the Daoist Way doesn't work for me, I have a backup plan and it came to me by way of The Simpsons Movie:
Lisa (upon being forced to leave her home): "But I'm so angry."
Marge: "Well, you're a woman. You can hold on to that forever."
Yeah. That's right! Options** are always good ...
*Well, nevermind. We know what he would do.
** And then, there's always Canada.
