I am ready to be in the next thing. I am ready to be starting something new. Something that will make use of all the horrible experiences I came through.
But I’m not there yet. I’m just in-between: not in abuse anymore but not recovered yet. I don’t even know what the future will hold. The possibilities of the future are too bright for my eyes right now. I can’t see what I want to do or what I can do because what I see is blinding light. I was in the dark too long to be able to see in sunlight. For now, it is all painfully white.
Thankfully, I am feeling my way towards somethings and people keep encouraging me to stay in the place where I can’t see because of the blinding light. They hold out the promise that eventually it won’t hurt so much and that it won’t be so overwhelming. That eventually it will be my new “normal”. After, that is, my perception adjusts.
I was thinking of the difficulty of racism but wanted to watch a movie instead of think so I used my roommate’s Netflix subscription. And there were movies about immigrants in America, multiracial couples, and such, but I didn’t want to think was the whole point so I picked a French movie named Le nom des gens or in English, “The Names of Love”.
The blurb about the movie didn’t reveal the rather complicated racial and cultural dynamics it contained, but perhaps I should have guessed a movie about a woman who sleeps with men to change their politics would address immigration, race, and the modern Western world’s diversity.
The movie ends with a very deep line: “Who will see our child as a foreigner?” A French couple named their son Chang.