David Cheung

My father was a Chinese immigrant to the USA, the oldest son headed off to create a successful life and bring his parents and younger sibling to a better place. He was a hard, smart worker, but a physically and emotionally absent father. He completely dropped out of my life when I was 14. My mother was a White high school dropout from rural Mississippi, the youngest of five, raised by my deeply spiritual grandmother while my grandfather was in and out of mental institutions. She knew how to survive but was emotionally distant and we didn’t talk about our feelings. She died when I was 49. Lord only knows what drew them together, as they messily divorced when I was 7 and they would only badmouth each other around me. It wasn't a fun home environment. My dad expected me to make straight A's in school and enjoy the same things he did. My mom expected me to be straight and make grandchildren. Both were disappointed in how I turned out in these respects. Stereotypes were just another form of expectations. Other kids, teachers, and strangers made assumptions about me based on my race, my sexual orientation, and my low socioeconomic status. No, I don’t know karate. No, I don’t dress in drag. No, I am not lesser because I grew up in a trailer park and raised by a single mom. It is no wonder I found escapism through video games, cartoons, and comic books early on. I could be my own hero, fly away from it all, and imagine a more interesting life. There was always a happy ending, even if there was some struggle along the way. And the colorful costumes were fabulous! All these expectations weighed on me growing up. And then I took those expectations as my own. When I didn’t meet those expectations, I felt worthless. Eventually I was diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety. Sure, things got better sometimes. Upswings where I found new activities to be interested in, new groups of people to get to know, and new places to explore. And then they got worse again when I didn't reach a goal I had or failed at something I tried. I beat myself up a lot for it. My self-talk was belittling. As I got older it became harder to do some of the things I did when I was younger, and I wasn’t where I thought I would be in my career or relationship, and that created more feelings of failed expectations. I was 50 years old, having my "mid-life crisis", unhappy with every aspect of my life. I was avoiding friends and family. Me and my husband felt so distant. I was very disappointed in myself. I felt this was all typical for a middle-aged man, but I knew I was falling into another stereotype, this time a trap of my own making. It didn't make these things feel any less insurmountable in the moment. But what happens when you finally realize those expectations didn’t make you happy? Or that they really weren’t your expectations to begin with? Or that your expectations are allowed to change? Life is a journey meant to be full of exploration and discovery. There doesn’t have to be set, unchanging goals. You can change your mind. And missing a goal doesn’t have to destroy you. What makes you happy and fulfills you today might not be the same next month. And that freedom to change my mind and my expectations has made all the difference. Coming to terms with my physical and mental limits was hard (still is), but I understand them better now. Setting and exceeding goals is still pretty nice, but missing goals doesn't hurt as much as it once did. Examining what really matters to me, what I enjoy right now, and what gets me through the day is a regular exercise. Giving up on something that doesn't actually matter to you isn't a bad thing. And sometimes you have to create your own closure. I will always cope with anxiety and depression, but hope is still visible. I might not always feel like I can change situations, but I CAN change my mind. I think it is a step in the right direction.