I once played for an indoor soccer team when I was in law school. Our team was all international students, mainly from Asia. We did not win a single game the whole season and we barely scored. I’m not a good field player but I was a good goalkeeper. 

In our first game, the opposing team is much bigger white guys. They are stronger and faster. We lose by 3 or 4 goals. But they also take 5 times the number of shots on our goal – close to 20 or so. I make save after save, including with my head and parts that have no business being hit. On one instance, I rush an incoming player and swipe the ball from his feet as he charges at me. Another time, someone gets a little too close to my area and I shove him off. It felt so good to be alive.

That was the joy I often couldn’t share with many. 

But even so, playing goalie was a lonely position. You’re the last line of defense and it’s just you between the posts. I loved it. I also played the floor and roller version and one of the best feelings is donning the mask, glove, blocker, and pads. Especially the mask. Often, professionals customize their masks and have something meaningful to them painted on it. I sometimes wondered what I would have on mine – maybe a tiger to honor my Malaysian heritage as if is our national animal. The Malaysian tiger isn’t even the biggest in the tiger family but I think it is the fiercest. 

But I didn’t like being alone all that much. I needed a lot of alone time to recharge, which is difficult with kids, especially in NYC. I don’t like crowds either but value deep conversations, one on one time. I can talk for hours on anything if I feel safe and even valued. Which wasn’t often. I could rarely tell anyone really anything. Had so many layers and nuances.

Intuitively, I just don’t think I really felt safe with many people. And strangely enough, even when married. And I had so many stories. The first few texts I sent you that you got mad about – the ones on how I played Sudoku and how I felt after the fair- that’s the first time I’ve told those to anyone. Silly maybe. And also how I don’t like sand. 

You’re really smart and I don’t think I’ve understood that fully till this year.  It was always there. 

But it’s the heart. That’s what matters. 

Yours is beautiful.