Tag: Love

How Do You Know When You’re In Love?

Author’s Note: Hello! This piece was for a writing assignment for my ENGL 327W – Creative Non-Fiction course. Specifically for this assignment, we had to write it in the format of a reportage. I decided to write about love and how someone knows when they’ve experienced love. There is definitely room to improve on visualization and making the reader feel rather than me telling. Still, I hope you will be able to enjoy this piece and in a way resonate with it.

6 Minutes Read

How do you know when you’re in love? Being the recipient and the gifter of that question, it doesn’t feel comfortable in either situation. As the recipient, you have the burden of bestowing new knowledge to that person, but how do you know that what you experienced was love? And as the gifter, you ask a question that is so broad and profound that finding the starting line to begin answering the question is quite difficult. “Like, what type of love do you mean?” This is usually the first question I get back from people to clarify my question. But for the longest time growing up, I didn’t understand why there is a difference in love. How different can other loves be from each other? The love that interests me most is romantic love. The type of love that transcends space and time…(well, maybe not like that as it’s probably going overboard with it), the type of love that butterflies flock to and that is falsified with Disney Princesses and Prince Charming. Other loves just didn’t appeal to me, not yet anyways.

“When are you getting married?” The first time my grandma Zoua asked me that question was when I was 14 years old, that first conversation was filled with tears from my eyes and tears in my injured heart. Over time with calmer dialogue and cooler heads (more on my part), that question became less of a burden to answer. I learned that she wanted me to get married young so she could see and hold my kids… her great-grandchildren. I already had older cousins that had fulfilled that for her, but she would not be satisfied until she saw and held mine. That is what happens when you’re the favorite, dark hidden burdens are bestowed upon us and we carry them without knowing. Only when revealed to us do we know how heavy those burdens are. I knew I was going to disappoint her as what I wanted didn’t align with her aspirations for me. We were stuck on an impasse, me wanting kids that are interracial, and her wanting kids fully Hmong.

Grandma Zoua has that old-school mindset of being conservative and hates change. She was always distrustful of the land and home she migrated to, the United States of America provided her and her lineage with opportunities for a better life. However, she could never fully trust it, which included people outside of the Hmong culture. She had preconceived prejudices already made about non-Hmong people. Can you imagine her rage and shock when her favorite grandchild said he wanted interracial kids? Fast-forward two years later, I was naive and rebellious while Grandma Zoua was weak and brittle. However, she always had plenty of energy stored away to ask me that question. “When are you getting married?” I know how this ends already, we would go back and forth (politely) until reaching the impasse where emotions were high and logic was really low. Her stubbornness would make stains on clothes seem like child’s work. If you were going to convince her of her view, you had better be able to make the sun and the moon join together as evidence. We indeed reached the impasse, but this time Grandma Zoua’s eyes had other plans.

Luckily, the sun and moon were with us in that cramped living room that day. She asked, “How do you know when you’re in love?” which took me completely by surprise as she’s never asked me that question before. Seeing how I was having difficulty answering the question she decided to answer it for me. “You’ll know when you’re in love when you want the other person to be happy. There are many types of love out there in the world. Love for yourself, love for significant other, love for family… it takes many shapes and forms.” She would go on and say how she’s fine with me having interracial children in the future ending with a phrase that I have kept since then. “As long as you’re happy and you both love each other, I’ll be happy too.” I couldn’t tell if she truly believed what she said or if she said that to make me feel better.

Love is never that simple though as I’ve learned through first-hand experience and talking with various people. Because love does many things when people are in that state. It’s as if the person in love becomes intoxicated and addicted to the person they’re with. If these two people in love were to be separated, it would cause relapse and withdrawal. Emotions are sky-high, and logic in a way goes out the window accompanied by their inhibitions. This leads to the people in love planning for the future. Maybe it’s the old-fashion vision of the white picket fence on a little hill with children running around that comes to mind when people are in love. Love is a feeling but chemically, brain activity increases for these individuals, and this could vary based on how long someone has been in love.

There is no right or wrong answer to the question. It’s a mix of personal experience and science at work. It’s different for everyone and everyone could have a different answer for a particular love. Some people enter the world of love and find out how ruthless it can be. Love is a game to some people and for those who are willing to participate in the game, they won’t be the same once they’ve exited the stage. The true answer might never be found but we have small truths that can help us understand this a little more. So, how would you answer it? How do you know when you’re in love?

Hello, I would appreciate it if you would give me feedback on what you enjoyed and what you didn’t. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to comment or email me too! Thank you.

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Hmong Legacy: Stories From The Heart Spring 2019

April 30th, 2019

IMPORTANT: Skip the video to 21:05 because that is when I begin my performance. My third performance in Hmong Legacy. Before I go any further, I do have to warn you that the audio for the video DOES NOT WORK. Sadly, there was an audio issue so a good portion of the performance was not broadcasted. However, I still uploaded the piece and you can read it here! Tub Xeeb Ntxwv Manting

Hmong Legacy: Stories From The Heart Spring 2019

Hello, I would appreciate it if you would give me feedback on what you enjoyed and what you didn’t. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to comment or email me too! Thank you.

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The 2020 Emerging Poet Prize Submission – I Believe In You

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! I hope you all are doing well and staying safe during this quarantine time. At the beginning of January this year (2020), I had a conversation/thought with myself about my writing. I’ve enjoyed writing ever since attending college, of course, I don’t enjoy all writing as academic papers are still not enjoyable for me. However, writing in general has been a way for me to express myself and helped me explore my identity. So, I came to the conclusion to see how far I can take my writing. I started taking my writing seriously and enter some competitions to see how I’d do in them.

‘I Believe In You‘ is a poem about me (Manting Xiong) and my journey from my elementary days to where I am now presently, in college. The poem is approximately 750 words in length. The target audience for this poem is males but specifically Hmong males. Even though the poem is more catered toward males, I believe the feelings and emotions I convey in the poem are relatable to everyone.

I undertook the writing of this poem for this competition after seeing an Instagram post by NFL quarterback Teddy Bridgewater where he wrote a letter of encouragement to kids who may have or are growing up like him. I want to emulate his post but replace it with my background and upbringing while including more deep topics. The reason why my format and stanzas are all over the place is to physically illustrate how difficult it was for me growing up. The path that we are on is difficult to navigate and do try to do our best to keep it straight but there are always things keeping us grounded.

I revised my piece after receiving feedback from Palette Poetry on June 22nd. Unfortunately, my piece was not selected to continue in the competition. However, I am not discouraged by that decision. As this means I can become a better writer/poet and improve my craft even more.

I hope this piece can provide some sort of encouragement to individuals who may have gone through some of the things I have experienced. It may be easier to give up and let go of everything but perseverance through those adversities will make them stronger. The past may not be what we wanted, but it doesn’t mean that we can’t change what our future is going to be. If you are reading this piece on your phone. Please turn it sideways for the correct format.

7 Minutes Read

To the little boy,
                  Preparing yourself for the harsh
                                  realities of this world alone.
               Your fevered ears have become deaf from all
               the screaming and yelling in your home.
Waking up early to mentally prepare in the cold brutal morning.
               Biting your bloodied tongue to keep the fake
                             peace for you are tired of mourning.
                                            Your parents are divorced,
               a drunken father, and a faraway mother.
"Grandma is in the hospital and inside, you are dying."
To the little Hmong boy,
                        Who stutters when speaking to
                             your intimidating Hmong elders.
               Understanding respect is earned, not given.
               Who speaks Hmong to yourself because
                              you are afraid of losing your language.
Choosing to stay home and take care of your lineage,
              instead of learning traditions and beliefs.
                             You can always learn tradition later,
              while the time left with your grandma is brief.
"Keeping her company, wishing to make her life greater."
To the teen boy,
              Who matured quickly, leaving behind
Disney and friends thinking he was no longer naive and blind.
        Growing taller in height and humility.
Disregarded family-like friends in order to build stability.
                               Losing the ability to answer
                                              your teacher’s daunting questions.
                 Holding back the poisoned tears and having to lie
                                 not by choice, but to survive.
                 "How do you explain to your teacher
                 about the battles, you are fighting?"
To the teen Hmong boy,
Fighting meaningless battles at home, in the classroom,
on the blazing court, on the breathless stage, and in your head.
                              Who found little comfort and joy from
                                            the cafeteria food at school.
                                            Who hated the end of practice,
              for that meant you went back to the struggle grind.
And back to the negative thoughts on your troubled mind.
The hidden voices getting louder like an evil symphony.
               "Silent cries that only the dead can hear
                                and tears that carries strength."
To the young boy,
         Who continues to envy a house filled with warmth and laughter
           Who survived your greedy first attempt at suicide.
       Fortify your broken foundation with the gold that is knowledge.
                              Restoring your faith and determination
             Be prudent, believe in the shadow you see and the light you don’t see.
                     Be charitable but don’t extend an olive branch to everyone.
    Family is important, but when it starts to kill you internally, cut it off.
               Express temperance, take it slow and recollect.
          Resist the gluttony, lust, sloth, and wrath that will tempt you.
"Both the sins and virtues will accompany you on your journey."
To the young Hmong boy,
               Shouldering the weight of being
                      the only Asian-American student in your class.
        Who is grateful for the opportunity of an education.
                Taking the opportunities and not wasting
        the sacrifices of the soldiers from the Secret war.
Who cries for the community because they are too immature,
        too violent to ever love and care for one another.
Disappointed that these OGs care only about money and politics,
       not caring more about the youths, their opinions, and logic.
"Ours words fall on deaf ears because we are ‘young’."
To the young man,
                 Please know your worth and
           understanding it is not your loss, it is theirs.
       You are more vaulable to the right person than you ever
                     will for the wrong person.
           You have so much to share and so much to give.
    Keep your bar high, only the worthy will reach it.
      But let's learn to love ourself first,
               before we try to love someone else.
"If you can love the last person that much.
Imagine how much you will love the right one."
To the young Hmong man,
              Your shattered heart is made of red glass.
              Break down those glass panes, and rise. For
   You will war! You will rage! You will shine!
          You shall cry! You shall sing! You shall smile!
  You must fight! You must learn! And most importantly, you must survive!
              Keep moving forward day by day,
                    do not be trapped by your tragic past.
              Give it your all, don’t worry about last time.
"There are still many things for you to accomplish,
it is not a crime to be happy, for you have yet to reach your prime.
To you,
Who is still smiling even through all the bullshit that life threw at you.
       That is going to graduate from high school.
        That is attending college as a first-generation student.
                       That is going to study abroad in a different country.
        That is going to live out their dream and change the world.
                 Life will weave and move like this poem
                             because life is never a straight path like we hope for.
                                      Don’t shy away from making mistakes.
       "Continue to work hard and do not let bad opinions make you flop.
Adversity will make you strong and it will lead you to the top."
I was and still am that young Hmong man.
I have journeyed and is still on that path.
              I want to give you a hug and
         tell you everything is going to be okay.
      Go ahead and cry, please, let it all out,
   the tears we shed will water the path for the future dreamers.
              I understand how you feel and
    don’t apologize for the way you feel.
               Your feelings are valid.
You can trust in this light at the end of this tunnel.
"Please know, I believe in you."

Below I’ve included some screenshots of the feedback I received from Palette Poetry.

Hello, I would appreciate it if you would give me feedback on what you enjoyed and what you didn’t. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to comment or email me too! Thank you.

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Pretty Cute

Author’s Note: In the Hmong culture, the action of dating another person with the same last name as your own is considered taboo. It is considered taboo because it is viewed as you dating your brother or sister, even if you have no blood relations. For example, take my last name, Xiong. I can not date another Xiong. Even if we she lives in Minnesota and we have no blood relations, we cannot date each other. Growing up you would be told this by the Hmong elders, your parents, older siblings, and cousins. Basically, anyone who was old enough to date. You might wonder, okay, that does not seem like too big of a deal right? Well, imagine liking someone and always having the thought “Please, please, do not have the same last name as me.”

For those of you who do not know, the Hmong New Year is an annual celebration that takes place in the fall to honor the ancestors and give thanks for the completion of the year’s harvest. Over three days certain rituals are performed to honor the spirits of ancestors and to provide for the health and safety of the current family in the New Year. Many people use this as an opportunity to court and find love with other people at Hmong New Year. So, where am I going with all this? Remember when I said Hmong people cannot date others with the same last name? I got separated from my parents at Hmong New Year and I met a Hmong girl and this is where my piece begins. This piece tells a story and is also a message to her. And I apologize beforehand for the cheesiness in my piece and I hope you are able to relate to this one way or another.

9 Minutes Read

Sometimes when I take an exam, time works so unexpectedly. It would often feel slow at first but then quickly and suddenly comes to an end. I interacted with her like how I approached my exams. Having all these different feelings inside of me when I took a test; terrified, nervous, and timid but still optimistic and confident at the same time. Whenever I got anxious looking at her, I wanted to look around to see what others are doing to get a clue of what to do. However, I stopped myself because I did not want to take my eyes off this beautiful woman. If I’m going to fail this test, at least I will fail by my own terms and actions, instead of relying on what others are doing. Just like some exams, I answered slowly to some questions and I quickly blurted out answers to some questions before you even finished asking me. I would feel like a complete fool and a pure genius all at the same time. And like some exams, I would forget to put down my name. This time, it was your name, I had forgotten it that time.

Specifically, your last name.

“Shoot your shot, what’s the worse that can happen?” So with my weak game form, I shot mine.
Me: “Hey, you are pretty.”
Her: “Why are you lying?”
Me: “I am serious. And I’m cute. Together, we would be pretty cute.”
Her: “Oh really?”
Me: “Yes, really. Did that not work?”
Her: “It was okay.”
Me: “Can I try again?”
Her: “Sure.”
Me: “You are pretty.”
Her: “Uh-huh.”
Me: “And I am ugly. Together, we would be pretty ugly.”

Throughout the rest of the day, those were our names. Pretty and… well, you didn’t want to call me ugly the whole day so we settled on cutie. And together, we were pretty cute, both in name and physically together. On that cold winter day with your contagious smile, you reached out your hand toward mine, inviting me to grab it. Our hands intertwined and my cheeks became red like on a hot summer’s day. Like riding a roller coaster, we hung onto each other on this short blissful ride. But unlike a roller coaster, we both did not know if we would end up back to where we started. Have you ever been so happy, it made you cry? I was laughing and crying, both at the same time when I was with you. The nervous rapid heartbeats I felt in my chest with that shortness of breath feeling. Simply put, I was on a runner’s high. And as we began our adventure together. I thought to myself

“The more fun we had. The more it will hurt when we part ways.”

We spent the day together with a $20 dollar bill between us. Back then, $20 was enough for delicious foods, refreshing drinks, fun games, cheap movies, senseless toys, and coins for arcades, and then… well, that was when we ran out of money. Feeding each other food, learning about our differences and things we had in common, and endlessly teasing each other. Sweet memories we had together that made me wish it would never end. But I was young and naïve about that thought. Little did I know that this was going to be the first moment of feeling impermanence.

I reunited with my parents somewhere and told them I will be safe. I never introduced her to my parents nor did they know what I was doing. Toward the end of the day, before we both parted ways. I finally remembered to ask for your last name. And as that sharp word of “Xiong” impaled my ears towards my heart. My feeling of being on cloud nine crashed straight down and landed past bedrock. I ran away and did not give you an explanation, all I could say was… “I’m sorry.” I could not explain what and how I was feeling back then.

Now, I can express it in a way that is comprehensible “The happiness and jubilation resulting from the proud and joyful recognition of one’s superiority, however, is frequently surpassed by the unintended sorrow, torture, and dejection that emerges from the humiliating awareness of one’s inferiority.” It wasn’t that I was inferior to you, but I wish I wasn’t Hmong or was a Xiong when that happened. Goodbyes are bitter and ‘I love you carried a distant scent. These incomparable feelings are terrifying but are also terribly precious. It was bitter and I used to be able to taste you in my liquor.

After a while, I couldn’t tell if the bitterness was from the alcohol or you.

I learned a chilling fear that day, however, I hid it well not wanting to show it to you. The greatest fear I learned that day is when I can’t see you. I do not question the time we spent together. Nor do I question the love you showed me. I only question my fate and whether my actions were correct or not. I think this is something I will continue to think about from time to time throughout my life. And then maybe one day, I won’t think about it anymore. I hope that day does come soon. You probably don’t even remember me.

The same emptiness came back to me when I found out you got married. I thought I had moved past these feelings. I did what I have always done. Suppress these feelings and lock them away so that they never see the light of day. But then, why do I have this feeling of emptiness again? I have come to the conclusion that some people are able to move on. And for others like me, even though time has passed and we have aged. A tiny part of us never moves on. It sits outside with the hidden feelings accompanied by the what-ifs and the hypotheticals. But I also know that one day that will leave too. I have already told myself this so many times already…

I have to let you go. This time, I must let you go…

People come into our lives for a reason. They teach us something and then if they are meant to stay, they will. Or perhaps they are meant to move on and teach something to someone else. Maybe, one day we will meet again and explain to each other what really happened. Maybe one day we will finally understand. And whenever I reminisce back to the past about us, I will learn to do better from the negatives and smile at the pretty cute positive moments we had. You taught me a lot and I thank you for that time even if the result was not what I wanted. This exam was so difficult that I never knew if I passed or failed. But regardless of the result, I’m just happy and grateful that I was given the opportunity to take it.

I’m happy you were able to find love. I hope that they will treat you well. It takes resilience to hold on forever waiting for that person. However, I believe the stronger and braver people are the ones that are able to let go and move on. It doesn’t mean they don’t care or love that previous person anymore. It is knowing your worth and respecting the other person’s choice. Respecting their wishes and wanting that person to be happy. Even, if you are not the one giving them that happiness. I wish I could hold on forever but that is not fair to myself, that is not fair to the beautiful woman I will one day marry.

Some people come into our lives as part of our history but some people won’t be around when the final chapter is written.

Until then, thank you for showing me what love is. How much it can hurt and heal us at the same time. How fragile and delicate it can be. I hope that you will live a peaceful life filled with that infectious smile of yours. And if I am lucky, maybe I will be able to see it again one day, may it be this lifetime or another. I will still love you, even when I may not know what that means anymore… but also remember that you had me.

The End

Hello, I would appreciate it if you would give me feedback on what you enjoyed and what you didn’t. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to comment or email me too! Thank you.

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