DAPPLED
LIGHT

I thought I hid my struggles pretty well, but it was clearly reflected in my declining grades. My parents agreed maybe schools in Hong Kong were too rigid for me. So they sent me to America to study art when I turned 18. I couldn't thank them enough for this decision.

For the first time in my life, I'm utterly alone in a foreign country. I thought, “Here's my chance! I can rebuild my image; no one will know I was this pathetic girl who cried in school!”

Just kidding, I cried in the first week of art school.

Art school was very demanding. My roommate and I broke down in front of our desks so often it kind of became a norm. Sometimes when one of us cried, we'd just look at each other with our swollen, sleep-deprived eyes and nod.

I cried because of stress, not because I'm angry at myself. College life was intense, but I was happy. In art, being unique is an asset. You're encouraged to be different. So for a brief period, I let go of what I was supposed to be and explored who I wanted to be.

My roommate was my first friend in New York. She made me realize it's ok, even good, to admit struggles. We came from very different backgrounds, but we bonded through ugly cries and late-night conversations.

However, although we were close, we seldom hung out. Sometimes, she would pop her head into my room and invite me to a get-together.

"Oh no, too bad I have this project!"

"Sorry, I'm so busy!"

The thing is, I enjoy good company and meaningful interactions, but I absolutely cannot stand small talk. And why do people like to hang out in crowded places with loud music, high-pitch screaming, flashy lights, and intense smells? Just picturing it alone makes me want to throw up.

Unfortunately, you can't avoid social gatherings forever, especially when you want people to like you. So occasionally, I'd put on my human mask, have an anxiety attack or two, brace the outside world, come home, and stay up all night replaying the event, thinking about everything I did wrong.