My craziest, well, I’ve HAD A LOT OF CRAZY travel experiences as a solo backpacker, but the weed cake in Amsterdam was PRETTY crazy.
I am not a drug user, I’ve never tried any hardcore drugs. I’ve only drank. And smoked weed (socially). But THE WEED CAKE from Amsterdam did me in. I only planned 2-3 nights there because the hostels were really expensive compared to the rates I was paying in other cities. After a 9 hour bus ride from London (in 2014), I got picked up from the bus station by a friend I met at King King (LA), which used to play really cool house music, but it is unfortunately now CLOSED. I used to go to King King with my older friends (well, not much older…haha, like 2-3 years older). My younger friends didn’t really understand what the heck it was about, you see it was about the MUSIC and the DANCING, not instagram.
Anyways, we had a meal, caught up and I went up.
It was the cheapest hostel in Amsterdam, which meant you literally lived across a 24 hour club banging loud music….I don’t know how I fell asleep at all.
But you know being semi- adventurous, I met some random friend in the lounge the next day, which happens to be purple, and he was like “hey, I heard there’s this really good weed cake, want to split one?” We found the cafe, owned by Armenians, I think, and we bought the famous weed cake he was talking about.
Anyways, we split it. We actually split it.
The last time I ate weed was when my friend made a cookie, I only ate a bit of it and when I was trying to drift off to sleep, I felt like there was a bug crawling in my stomach. Talk about paranoid.
Anyways, nothing happened.
But then I got really hungry and went to the only place I could afford with my budget, Burger King. Stupidly, I got a freaken coffee! And a meal. I devoured the load.
The coffee came sweeping up on me like a explosion of heartbeats and stars. I remembered my friend Munir told me not to drink coffee.
I was NOT okay.
I had to lie down fast or I was going to faint or have an epileptic attack.
I walked to my hostel mixed dorm room and climbed up to my bunk bed. I don’t know how much time past, but I literally saw my hand shaking. I called my boyfriend at the time, who I met in London, I said “I’m going to die, I’m dying”. He said “you sound okay to me”.
No really I’m dying.
I don’t know how much time past, but I kept staring at the clock scared that I would miss my bus tomorrow. I climbed down once, threw up, stared at the mirror, my eyes bloodshot. Was I dreaming? I climbed up again, how did I manage not to fall. I was not used to be out of control. I was a control freak really, I mean how else could I backpack on my own and not get kidnapped?
I projectile vomited a few times, one time I couldn’t hold it in and sort of sprayed into some of those Australian mates’ massive pile of stinky clothes and bags, there was even a doll in there. Like what?
The worse was when the purple swirly Victorian style wallpaper turned into Buddha. My heart was racing and this nice Samaritan gave me a drink of her water.
Later we would bump into each other in Berlin.
It was in the afternoon. I found myself playing worship music and praying in tongues. I forgave all my enemies and asked God to forgive me for hating on people.
I got my heart right somehow, I don’t know why, but I felt that if I died in that Amsterdam bunk bed, next to filthy stinky shit that belonged to these filthy mates, I’d be okay. Apparently, I even talked to some people, but half way I’d stop.
“where are you from?” – said stranger.
“I’m from LA”- Said me.
“How long are you traveling for?”
me- “uhhhh”. Blank out, I’m dying, I think.
Ran to bathroom, throw up, stare at mirror, ran back to bunk bed, am I alive, am I in some sort of Tom Cruise movie? Everything was like seconds of a film, it was a movie.
The sketch, the cafe, and the hostel cat and I recovering.
I’ll always have stories to tell. Moral of the story, some good art might come from a horrific experience, and sometimes they wake us up to a spiritual reality.
You are responsible for the well-being of your heart. Yes, you are.
You are the landlord of your heart and you get to decide who and what resides there (landlord analogy by Christa Black). When I was younger, I’m 28 now, I opened my heart to lots of people because I thought, “well I’m taught to love people right?” but that’s when I realize that THERE IS EVIL out there. Real evil. And then I got frightened and closed my heart up after too many evil encounters. Thank God I’ve been healing from those manipulative encounters and learned to guard my heart.
I learned that it is important to have boundaries in your life. And you have to SPEAK UP for your heart, it’s your responsibility YO.
Which leads me to the whole controlling Asian parent thing again.
Recently I’ve been blessed with good food and have eaten well. It’s just this season of rest and getting fed. Well, my mom mentions a couple of times that “watch your weight”, your legs are getting fat or your stomach is getting fat.
And as you can see, I’m not an obese person, I’m a pretty skinny Asian woman that happens to have curves. (This just goes to show the impossible culture Asians live in).
I was totally fine the whole day, had no neck aches and for me when I have neck aches it is usually because I am fearing something.
SO at night I start getting these crazy painful neck aches and I start to do my inner healing, meditation, prayer time with God. I ask Spirit what the hell is going on. I look back on the day. I mean I had really great food, got this amazing dress from Nordstrom, felt so alive and free all day. I felt abundant.
Then it struck me, that moment when my mom….instead of saying “wow I had a great day with my daughter”, she said “your stomach is looking fat, watch yourself”.
Gosh, how encouraging.
So in that moment, subconsciously my self worth was struck down and subconsciously I heard and felt in my spirit “You’re not enough, you’re not good enough”.
Wow. I love healing sessions with God.
So then I start planning a speech about what I’ll tell my mom, how I’ll speak up for my heart so that I can protect it in the future. Then I have this crazy dream about a childhood friend who I am no longer friends with due to parental conditions (aka controlling Asian parents who basically took control of our friendship and ended it with, well their controlling spirit). 3 times I ask her what’s wrong, no answer.
Finally she tells me “my mom died”, I hug her and we cry and cry. Then my mom comes in and questions what I’m doing. And the light bulb went on. When do Asian kids ever grow up? Some of us, without knowing it, are still being controlled by our parents. We feel out of control, we view God like our parents…unrelenting, angry, controlling.
In Asian culture, there is no such thing as GRIEVING, we are taught to get over it, cover it up, Asian moms don’t really have much capacity to comfort or tend to your emotions (I’m talking about the older generation, now not all moms are like that but I have seen a lot).
So in the grieving, pain process, we are often commanded to ANSWER TO and name WHAT IT IS we are going through. And as you know, grieving is messy, you can’t always name it. People want to KNOW shit because they feel like they are in control if they know what it is you are going through.
Some Asian adults still feel that they are seriously unable to make their own decisions. They feel powerless in their own lives and a victim of circumstances.
Well, after my dream….I knew I had to just speak up.
“mom, can you not say anything negative about my body? It hurts my heart and honestly if I want to exercise or lose weight I will, but that’s my own decision. This is my body, not yours”.
And with that, she said okay, as long as you yourself know.
And even if I sometimes feel insecure, I know that this season is actually a blessing.
Why? Because most of the time when I’m traveling I’m losing hella a LOT of weight and I barely have an appetite sometimes, like in Cebu, Philippines, I was shitting out water, or food that turned to water, okay I know Too Much Info.
Which leads me to my point.
I once heard a relative of mine say after I chose DISTANCE from certain people in my life that “people have a right to their opinions about you”. Well I have a right to “who I want in my life and what opinions I want to hear” because most peoples’ opinions ARE NOT truth about who you are in LOVE.
Because LOVE feels good, love FIRST tells you your true identity, then in the encouragement, propels you TO DO GOOD….not the other way…like when people yell at you and tells you “you suck” and think that ‘s going to encourage you to change. LOL.
So guard your heart because out of the heart comes all the goodness and junk of life. You have a right to say NO and TO create healthy boundaries, use your speech, speak up like I did.
PS- I love Asian moms, don’t get me wrong. Not all Asian moms are this way. There are many reasons people become controlling or negative, most of the time they are speaking out of their own insecurities. AKA my mom just bought this weird massage tool that is supposed to massage the fat out of her body. I love my mom- she is REALLY amazing. Sometimes I have to write about her because well, it’s my experience and I believe it can free others.
This article doesn’t just apply to Asians or moms, or women, this applies to ALL HUMANKIND. Maybe even animals. I pray this article may help free you to LIVE IN FREEDOM!
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