I'm not as strong as I thought

"It's a pain point in Alice, and this guy keeps poking at it. I know how much Alice is bothered by this...I want Alice to see that I'm going to stand by her for being who she is. Thank you so much. Your reminder...maybe your impression of me will change, but I'm leaving it here because I want some homophobic people to see my attitude..."

I was there as Hans read and wrote this comment in response to Aunt Sun. Sitting, listening, mixed feelings. After Hans finished writing, he asked me if I was okay. During my few seconds of silence, he sat beside me and wrapped me in his arms.

Everyone says that I am happy and lucky.

When I was a child, I took a group of younger brothers and sisters to buy ice cream through the gate of the three-meter-high fence in the community. When my parents found out and chased me with a broom, the children would always ask me, "Sister xx, what should we do?" And I would always have a leadership demeanor, calmly rubbing my chin to help me, "Run one, two, three. "Yes!" Then you will see a ten-year-old girl advancing like a wind, followed by a group of "little soldiers" in a neat line.

When I was in middle school, I was always there on the playground. Sweat dripped on the red plastic, won three consecutive 100-meter championships, and the prize was soft.

In high school, I overcame the English difficulty, raised the ACT score by five points in two months, and became the champion for one month.

He is sincere, optimistic and humorous, and often makes some embarrassing "sitting in a Halloween pumpkin", causing bursts of laughter.

"Big Sister", "Sprint Champion", "ACT Master", "Pistachio", these are what others see me as.

However, they don't know how much I crave the feeling of being admired by my younger siblings. Introverted and mischievous, I don't like my peers. I had to find some children to satisfy my need and sense of dependence.

As a small transparent I also need a sense of presence. In spite of the disdain and ridicule of my classmates, I worked hard, and when I crossed the finish line under the eyes of everyone, not only sweat but also blood slowly flowing down my legs.

I hate the tit-for-tat tactic, but I have to use it. I'm not a native speaker of English, which is inherently disadvantageous. I can only watch my classmates enjoy the time after school, carrying a stack of thick textbooks and filling in the question cards one by one. Even so, in the eyes of my father, the results obtained after working hard for a long time are regarded as "this is practice. Don't be too happy, how could you possibly get 32 points?"

It wasn't the first time that negative voices came to my ears. Playing on the parallel bars, the grandma of the neighbor kid said, "It's really barbaric." When I was practicing running, my classmates surrounded me and ridiculed me, "So short, still want to run a sprint?" The essay I wrote for a long time was scolded by the teacher in front of the whole class, "xxx's composition is disgusting". Dancing, people say I have thick legs. When I sing, people say my falsetto is ugly. When I was approaching to immigrate to the United States, my mother persuaded my father, "This child is too poor in studies and will not be able to pass the test. If you don't take her abroad, she will not be successful." My father also downplayed it more than once when I was PUA by my classmate, "That is your problem".

You call me hypocritical, yes. But those ridicules and denials were like knives stuck in the sensitive heart of this young man, full of scars. They threw my humble self-esteem to the ground and ruthlessly trampled it to shreds. While I was in pain, I took responsibility for myself.

I have never been praised, recognized, watched, loved. I'm starting to feel like I don't deserve it. I'm just a piece of shit, why should anyone appreciate me?

I started again trying to prove that I wasn't trash. I show a cheerful, humorous side, give more, don't show negative energy, I think it's easy to be liked. However, I am sincere to others, but I am used instead; I help my family, but I am taken for granted; I dare to confess, but the other side puts me aside; I tell jokes, my friends laugh at others but not memes; I go out to play, just for me to drive.

At one point I didn't trust anyone. My only value as a person is to be exploited and used by others. That's right, I thought that if you paid more, you should always be entitled to some rewards. But in fact, no.

"Inferiority", "lack of love", "living in denial", this is the real me.

You see, people's establishment is too stable, and I almost believe it myself. So much so that when I realized that I had not allowed myself to be unhappy, I had suppressed my inner inferiority and vulnerability for too long. And its release, often a hysterical collapse.

Suddenly falling into my arms, I was surprised. Then there was a sore nose. I am a person who likes to hug others, but it is the first time someone is willing to hug me.

"Cry," Hans said, patting me. I still hold back the tears.

My mentality with Hans is complicated. I am three months older than him. I should have taken on more as my sister, but his psychology is much more mature than mine. I am willing and working hard to solve his problems and look forward to something in return, but he rarely gives me the recognition and sense of accomplishment I want. I don't want to export negative emotions to him because he already has a lot of pain. When he made it clear that he was willing to listen to me, I could not hide anything. I have no love for him, but when I get along with him, I have a strong sense of security that extends from trust. Although, I have bad intuition, and I am afraid of being used, so it is too late to fully trust him.

In an uncomfortable hug position, I began to vomit. I hugged him back, talking incoherently about the good and bad things, all the harsh words I've heard over the past twenty years. The awards I've received, the scolding I've endured, the favors I've given, the crimes I've committed, and the struggles and doubts I found myself bisexual.

I told myself countless times to be strong. With so many disadvantages and obstacles, how can you expect others to be kind. Unexpectedly, when Hans said "you deserve someone to hurt", my heart was reluctantly glued, and I broke the defense directly.

I, who had never shown tears to anyone as an adult, now leaned on his shoulder and cried. The power of his comment is not only a statement of heterosexuality, but also a kind of support for me as a human being. None of my LGBT friends have said that. Others only call me promising, and he will make me happier. Others tell me to learn to adapt, he will ask me to be myself. When someone stops me from "don't talk", he will say "I'm listening" to me. When someone told me not to ask for anything in return, he would tell me "you deserve it."

Someone told me "don't cry" ten thousand times, only he, when he lent me his shoulder, said,

"Cry, I'm here."

I don't know how long I cried. After the tears dried, I couldn't cry anymore. But one thing I figured out was that I was nowhere near as strong as I thought. However, I want to cut a knife for such a dear friend, and I must put on the armor for him.

Hans later said, "When you lean on me, I'm at peace. Because I feel needed."

what. Then in the few minutes I was hugging him, maybe,

You don't have to be strong.