Growing up I was never the “cool” kid. 

I was the “cute little” one.

I was that cute, little, asian-looking child that could squeeze into small places, make silly faces, climb anything, be the goof ball of the family and always spoke with a “cute” little voice. I would hear so often from my family, you are so pretty, you are such a good girl, sweet girl, gorgeous girl, pretty girl.  My family would fuss over me and my cuteness.

Being “cute” got me the attention and love I needed. Being “cute” became my identity, it became who I thought I was! I depended on my cuteness to be loved, at least, that’s what I believed.

I had an older sister, called Christina, she was 2 years older than me. She was the smart one, the loud chatterbox that always got her way. She could talk to anyone, was confident in most situations and people seemed to gravitate towards her. I, on the other hand, was very afraid. Kindergarten, prep and grade 1 were terrifying for me, I did not make friends easy, so I would pick up rubbish in play time and lunch and I sometimes peed my pants because I was afraid to use the toilets.

Christina was my best friend and my biggest enemy. Most of the time she included me, played with me and loved me. She would speak for me when adults would talk to me, she would take care of me and she taught me lots of things. But sometimes she would tease me, annoy me, poke fun at me and she would always get herself out of trouble. She could talk her way into and out of anything and she would always win the argument. If I felt hurt, the only response I knew would be to say “doooooooon’t” and “stop iiiiiiiiiiit” and the annoying, whiny tone would get me in trouble even if it wasn’t my fault. That was my only defence. And it rarely worked. I learnt that I would always get the blame, talking wouldn’t be my strategy for getting my way, speaking was not my strong point, arguing was never an option, Christina ALWAYS won. 


Instead, I learnt to communicate my hurt by being passive aggressive... and I got really good at it. I would learn to make life mildly or significantly challenging for those that hurt me very inconspicuously.  Rarely getting traced back to me. This way, I could still maintain my cuteness and lovability.


And then, in grade 7, at 12 years of age I grew tall, I grew wider, bigger and I grew boobs. And all of a sudden, running naked around the water sprinkler at school wasn’t acceptable or cute anymore!

My cuteness was starting to fade. I was hating on my new bodily changes (I identify as gender fluid and when I was growing up I felt that I was a boy trapped in a girl’s body, so having the realisation that I was in fact a “girl” was hard for me to accept) and I was in denial. I started binge-eating, I suffered from bulimia and the older I grew, the less cute I became.


My lovability was fading fast. I quickly stopped being “cute”. “Cute” became not something that brought me love and attention, but something that was considered annoying and repulsive.

I was un-lovable now. What did I have now? Who was I without my “cuteness”? I didn’t know.

I needed to find another strategy. And I did.


I looked around me at the other kids at school and saw the most loveable “popular” people were the kids who were “cool”. The ones who had lots of friends. The ones who were quick to judge, put others down, got invited to the “coolest” parties, did drugs, alcohol, smoked cigarettes and weed, didn’t care about grades, didn’t care about succeeding, they didn’t care about fuck all. They were too “cool” for that.

And so I found my calling. My strategy to getting the attention and love that I craved was being mysterious and cool, never showing sadness, vulnerability, anger, shame, weakness, never blowing my “cool”. I made the decision that nobody would ever know what I was thinking or feeling. I became stoic. In fact, already nobody knew the secrets I had. Nobody knew that I was attracted to girls and that I struggled with my gender identity, body dysphoria and bulimia. I was keeping it all a secret. And I NEVER wanted anyone to know how much I was suffering on the inside. From a young age, I learnt to keep my emotions in, to the point that I had deluded myself into believing I actually didn’t have any. 


“Emotions are weakness,” I would think, “If I don’t want or need anybody or anything, if I don’t care about anything, I cannot get hurt.” 


It doesn’t matter if my boundaries got walked all over because I didn’t care. My relationships with friends were only surface level, I did not, could not truly connect with anyone, let alone my parents. If I could not feel anything, I would not get hurt. What a wonderful protective barrier I had built around me. It was absolute genius, I thought!

And with my stoic presence, my uncaring personality, came some level of “coolness” in my eyes. I started drinking alcohol at age 14, at age 16 I had a 22 year old lover and snuck out of home regularly.  Drinking alcohol helped me to be “cool”. I started using my sister’s ID to buy alcohol whenever I wanted, and I would be the person who could get it for other people too. That upped my level of “coolness”. I would steal things from shops, just small things like chocolates and sunglasses, and I would feel the exhilaration of being sneaky and mysterious and walk around confidently expressing no fear, no care, no fucks given.

My drinking alcohol was my way to “coolness”. I got my first boyfriend (one of the coolest guys in school) because of a cool party I went to, but I didn’t even like boys. That relationship was important to me because it upped my level of “coolness”.


As you can probably tell right now, my whole life revolved around being “cool”. It HAD to. Deep within me I had the desire to be loved, to belong, to be worthy. I would do anything to get the love I desired, and if I couldn’t be loved by my family because I was not cute anymore and I could never beat the gold star, school captain, A-grade, “perfect” standards my sister set before me, I would focus on being loved by my peers.


After school, I continued to use drinking alcohol as my way to up my “coolness”. I started a drinking games club, which earned me respect and lots of friends. I was a snowboarder, which I believed in itself was one of the coolest sports ever. Snowboarders don’t give a fuck, the snow bum lifestyle is about having fun, shredding and getting wasted. Snowboarders look cool, wear cool clothes and the ones that shred, look like they are not even trying! Even in competitions, it’s the steeze (style with ease) that gets you the points. I LOVED snowboarding., because I thought it was the fucking coolest thing ever!

My goal in life was ultimately to be “cool”.

WHY?

Because that’s what I thought I needed to be, to be loved, to belong, to be worthy, to be good enough. And I had many people telling me I was so cool, and some even thought I was intimidating.

But on the inside, was a completely different story.


On the inside I was scared, self-conscious and suffering from social anxiety. I had to uphold this standard of being “cool”, when deep down I was still just a little child craving to be loved, terrified of not having friends, scared of being found out and scared of being seen.


I didn’t have a single connection where I felt like I could be myself. I did not share any of this with anyone. I did not want anyone to know my weaknesses, my faults, my ugly “uncool” shame.

But what is “cool” anyways?  

It’s SUPPOSED to be the person who doesn’t give a fuck, they can do anything they want without even trying, they don’t care if things don’t go their way because they never cared about it to begin with, “cool” is smart naturally and knows things and if they don’t know it, they don’t care. “Cool” doesn’t love anyone or express any emotions. “Cool” is about looking good, but more importantly, it’s about looking good without even trying. “Cool” sees any form of emotional expression as “uncool”. Getting angry, falling in love, expressing joy, feeling embarrassed, being hurt, getting excited is WAY too uncool.

Well, that’s what I thought cool was supposed to be. This is the LIE that most os us believe.

But what is “cool” REALLY? 


The truth is that.... “cool” is just a mask. “Cool” is in fact low self-esteem and self-consciousness hidden by a wall of expressionlessness and the most fashionable pair of sunglasses. “Cool” is a form of emotional disconnection, that stops us from being vulnerable or truly connecting with anyone. “Cool” is all about what we look like on the outside, so is based on needing to know how we are perceived by others. “Cool” in fact, is NOT about not giving a fuck... “cool” cares SO much about what other people think that they are limited and confined to ONLY the “cool”behaviours. 


So I spent years getting wasted, partying hard and snowboarding. Focussing all my attention on being “cool” out there in the external world, and spending no time thinking about who I really wanted to be or what I really wanted to achieve. I actually wanted to be a pro snowboarder and go to the Olympics and represent Australia, this was my DREAM. 

But no one would ever know that.

Because what if I failed? That would be SO uncool. How could I become Pro when I was spending so much time trying to be “cool”, be liked and act like I’m not even trying? It never would have happened.

It’s no wonder years later when I wound up drunk, stoned, sick, tired, poor, working in a factory, my dreams of being pro snowboarder long gone, completely emotionally disconnected and with no real friends... that I became depressed.

I was no longer “cool”. “Cool” was no longer working for me. Life being “cool” wasn’t all that I thought it would be. And so, my journey begun one day when I was so sad, so fucking depressed and crying over my pathetic life and missed opportunities that I FINALLY gave up that need to be “cool”.


I needed another strategy. I had no idea what it was, I just needed to learn how to be happy and I would do absolutely ANYTHING to get me there. “Cool” was no longer the centre of my life. I was finally allowing myself to cry, the MOST uncool thing I could do. I stopped clinging on to “cool” and I let go. And in letting go, I embraced and expressed  ALL my emotions.... guilt, fear, shame, regret, loneliness, sadness, embarrassment, jealousy, anger, disappointment, just to name a few.


I cried and cried and cried. And it felt shit.  My world completely crumbled. I wanted to curl up and die. I wanted to completely disappear. The pain I felt was fucking intense.

But once I let it all out, what it allowed me to do was take an honest look at my life and get curious about what actually makes a  life worth living. If I’m going to choose life for the next 60 years I may as well do it properly and be happy. And if drinking alcohol and partying every day and night does not bring me happiness, then what does?

And so, with trembling hands, that thought sparked me to call up a life coach. How VERY uncool of me. This opening up of myself to experiencing my emotions, I believe, is when my life truly began. I was finally awake and alive to the emotional ups and downs of life. 

Little did I know that for the rest of my life, I would be on a journey of discovering more and more of these protective layers that I had built around me and shed them one at a time. 


Even now, 5 years later, I’m still discovering layers of protection, defensiveness, passive aggressiveness and “coolness”, that is hiding the shame I feel inside for not being good enough as I am. It’s a life-long journey and it’s not easy, but every emotion I feel, the good-feeling ones AND the bad-feeling ones are SO much better than living the emotional disconnection of being “cool”.