Proving people wrong doesn’t motivate me

/ To watch this substack via video recording - scroll to the bottom! /This is so embarrassing to say out loud. When I was in conservative christian college, I took a class that required the students to do street evangelism. For those who aren’t familiar, it’s when you go up to strangers on the street to tell them about the “good news” aka that Jesus died on the cross for them and if they accepted him into their hearts, they will go to heaven and not hell.I couldn’t even tell you which class it was or what I learned, because my mind has completely blocked it all out…almost. I do remember this assignment. Basically, we had to use these strategies of getting strangers to be interested in christianity. I remember the teacher saying that it was our role to plant seeds in people’s minds so that one day they can pledge their life to Jesus…and if we are lucky, we might be able to reap the fruit right then and there. The strategy I chose was to look like a canvasser with a clip board and ask people questions for the survey. What a brilliant trick!So I go to the water tower mall, which is in the heart of downtown Chicago, and I go for it. I’m not nervous AT ALL.I walk up to this guy smoking outside the mall and I ask him questions for my “survey.” I straight up ask him “what do you think happens after you die?” I don’t remember any details of that chat, but I do remember thinking I had an upper hand to most of my classmates. I wasn’t a weird socially awkward christian like them. I was a cute girl that was up on the fashion + pop culture trends and had social awareness. I thought that “secular” people (people who didn’t believe in Jesus) probably thought that christians were ugly weirdos, but I was there to prove them wrong. Christians could be cute and normal! lollllllMore than 13 years later, I still cringe. I was EXACTLY what people assumed christians were like…insufferable and so self assured.Leaving that cult was one of the bravest things I’ve ever done.(a photo of me from 2010 while I was at the conservative christian college as a sophomore.)My journey of wanting to prove people wrong didn’t end at graduating from that christian college. I went head first into the arts right after school to prove that I can go against the grain of what people deemed as a good asian woman. My parents wanted me to get a secure job in the medical field or at least make good money teaching piano. I said no. “I’m going to prove everyone wrong about their assumptions of me by being a poor artist. Get that!”And boy did I nail it. Still a poor artist to this day!I just watched the american apparel trainwreck documentary on netflix, and I got major 2010’s flashbacks. Other than being a poor artist, being a quirky hipster was VERY important to me. There weren’t a lot of asian hipsters, and I had to represent. That era was mostly me lusting over Lita’s by Jeffery Campbell, anything from american apparel, and anything Jenn Im from Clothes Encounters (youtube channel) wore - see Jenn and the glorious shoe below.I think it meant a lot to me to be seen as Jenn, because she was the antithesis to the asian nerd with greasy hair and an accent to me. That feeling was a mix of (taught) self hatred and also discovering what being a diaspora asian person could be. I was taught to see my people through such a narrow and limiting lens. From that place, I could see why proving everyone wrong felt resonant, and I have compassion for that.If you’ve read other posts I’ve written, you know that I grew up in a predominantly Chinese community until middle school. Entering social circles that were mostly white was a shock. I almost saw what the white people saw when they looked at my family and I…I didn’t like that. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. And I felt like I wanted to prove them wrong by being cooler and smoother than they expected.The truth is: the more I spoke, move, and dress like my white counterparts, the more pathways opened up to me. But at what cost? For what? Social acceptance? Belonging? Security?I would later discover that it was a scam to my soul, but the privilege of proximity is real (until it crosses the invisible line).I don’t want to diminish real life punishments of not bending to white supremacy. I truly truly get it. I get how asian americans feel like they have to sell their souls to stay under the radar. I get it! But I know it’s not worth it. Nothing is worth our soul.(a photo of me from 2013 fully decked in an all american apparel outfit.)During the 2010’s, I learned about the enneagram, which the christian church loooooved. I identified as type 4 “the individualist”, which deeply values being seen as unique. Learning about it felt freeing, and it started to make me really question that desire…for what? For whom does it serve for me to be seen as special? What am I trying to prove exactly?The enneagram (not endorsing it - but it is interesting at the very least) says that the more you heal, the less you become these avatars. Healing those core childhood wounds will free us from stuffing ourselves into these small boxes of who we are.Just two days ago, my girlfriend was mentioning how it’s cute when my bangs are a little longer - and my immediate response is that I’m afraid to grow them longer because I would look “norm-core.” She said there’s no way I could look norm-core with my bleached eyebrows and just how I present generally. We laughed about it, but it did make me think about this deep seeded desire of mine. It’s still there!I’ve been simmering on what pressures do I feel right now? What assumptions do people have about me that I might want to prove wrong? What do I want to prove to myself?I feel like I want to prove to myself I can be a productive leftist who know’s her s**t and gets s**t done. In trying to take care of myself mentally and spiritually through the onslaught of continual overwhelm, I feel shame knocking at my door telling me I’m not doing enough. When that happens, I usually go to the door and speak through it saying, “let me be…I don’t want to have a mental breakdown like last time. The internal and spiritual work I’m doing is also work.”To bear witness to the genocide of Palestine, alligator alcatraz, ICE kidnapping people, losing medicaid + SNAP, trying to make ends meet every month, the attack on Iran…I am constantly trying to stay grounded in truth and love for what is possible. Constantly trying to survive, practice my gifts towards our North Star, bear witness, and stay connected with my people. I have nothing to prove to myself or anyone.I only have to focus on embodying my values and principles.I only have to look at the day and ask “what is possible?”How can I invest in my spiritual, physical, and relational health so that I can be present in this reality?This is an area I don’t feel the pull to prove people wrong: that I am too rigid and stubborn about my political beliefs.You think I’m too rigid? Ok. You think I’m too sure about xyz? Sure. Ok.No one is ever going to convince me that I need to see the other side of genocide/colonization/imperialism/prisons-slavery. I’m very familiar with the other side. My whole life is drenched in the other side through propaganda and indoctrination.The freedom I feel in accepting how people may or may not perceive me when it comes to my principles is deeply healing.When I think about how I have changed and grown in my world view, it gives me hope. No one had to debate with me or humanize my viewpoints for me to change. I was the one who went out of my way to learn and witness activists and artists who stood strong in their principles. I was the one who looked for answers. Even through the indoctrination I had from birth, there was space for me to lean into changing my mind.I truly believe that the deeper my roots are - call it rigid or stubborn - the closer we all are to a world where everyone has their needs met.Call it whatever you want! I know that I am rooted in love.What does Liberatory Imagination spark in me today?Death to the IOF.How to support me (thank you in advance):Currently, I’m in between jobs and would appreciate any support you can afford.* Buy me a cup of coffee. Every bit counts! You can venmo me at @tiffanywongart with note “coffee from substack!”* Subscribe for free (all my posts will be available to the public), but set up a monthly or annual recurring payment with me directly on venmo - @tiffanywongart. 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