I feel like it is time to share my story with the world. I feel like I have been two persons for a long time and yes have had to dissect my life into two parts. 

I grew up as a loner, but always felt the spirit of God with me. I grew up going to church and was indoctrinated to believe in rules and regulations. At the age of 12 I came alive and felt the true unconditional, unbounded love of God.

I felt Gods presence and love so strongly, the type of love that forgives and accepts all of who you are, even the things you think are shameful. 

At a very young age I also decided to wait for marriage to have sex because I decided that God was worth trusting and my body more than a physical being. Now, in our society we are taught that if you wait you must be really ugly or unwanted, that you’re an outcast or weird. 

We are also taught that the more the better for everything. 

We indulge and consume everything to social media, drugs, sex- but most of us numb inside. 

Even as I write I wonder if I’m sharing too much, but I’m tired of being ashamed of who I am. 

Now does that mean I don’t interact with boys I like or date? No, I do, but I have limits. 

Also I am a highly sexual person. But the spirit inside of me controls the physical part of me. I am more than a physical being. 

It makes life easier for me too. No need for birth control, messing up my hormones. No need for intense heartbreaks because it is easier to part with people without intense emotional attachments. 

I don’t judge people for their decisions and I also expect people not to judge me, but often times when I tell people they think I’m lying, they say I’m too attractive to wait, they think I must be lesbian, they think I’m weird, etc.

But I like to break stereotypes.

And I also like to break the stereotype of Americans, we are not all loud and obnoxious.

I like to break the stereotype of people who have faith in a God, not all believe that God is a man upstairs judging us, in fact I believe god is in and through everything, I talk and commune with God everyday- in my dreams, awake, spirit helps me process my feelings, emotions, and being. 

I respect people for who they are and what they believe and if they have questions about my way of life, they ask me. 

I’m not ashamed of my sexual desires nor am I ashamed of the fact that I’m waiting for the love of my life. 

I am both physical and spiritual. 

And I’m not ashamed that I’m a dichotomy, but I’m both spirit and human. And that’s the beauty of life. 

  
I’m also tired of people thinking that if you believe in God then you must be stupid. 

Look at the birds, the ocean, the animals, the beauty- how can you not believe there is a great beautiful spirit surrounding us?   

I woke up with this epiphany, true success is loving and accepting yourself wherever you are in life. 

Most people already do a really good job of condemning themselves. Last night I went out to dance with my Dutch friends. We went to this street restaurant and this lady, in an effort to tell me that I’m sitting on the wrong chair, tapped my shoulders and straight up pull the chair from under me so I fell on the floor.

I was pissed. 

There’s no boundaries in Southeast Asia, a sense of personal space…I don’t like it. But as we started dancing I felt everything fall off.

I’ve been fighting, struggling, crying, feeling confused, waiting. 

I should be excited everyday because I’m traveling right? No, I’m going through a fair amount of heart stuff. 

But I feel a part of me finally embrace myself “it’s ok to not know, to not have things figured out, to be confused, to fall apart” but to walk forward bravely. 

Even scared. 

To dance, to cry, to be in pain, those are necessary for me to process life. 

Even though I don’t give a shit what people think, I finally don’t care what I think. 

We are usually our toughest critic, and I choose to say goodbye to the critic in me. Bye!!! Controlling spirit, parent, I’ve grown up. 

I’ll be my best supporter.

 
I caught this moment when the kid in the hostel poked my friend in the neck. Vietnam. 

Sometimes I feel forgotten, many times in my life I felt disappointed with empty promises and I felt that I needed to trust myself alone…yesterday I had a dream that I was my birthday and there were no gifts. I felt devastated. Then these two best guy friends asked me to prom.

I’m in a season of waiting for my long awaited promises and my heart is running dry. 

I ask God – what would you do? Since I know 5 years of the year that the bamboo grows to infinite levels…he said “love yourself so deeply that none can invade your being”. 

Like that German girl downstairs who is frantically looking for a place to go next. And here I am lying in bed resting.

God hasn’t forgotten you or me; but sometimes it feels that way doesn’t it? 

Be patient, the best will come.  

 

people post all these amazing hd pictures but they really don’t tell you that when you get your period the same day you have to take a flight to some hot ass country and you are sweating your weight off, that it can suck. 

Especially when you enter your hostel room and it’s like you’re entering an oven. 

In those moments I remember being. 

That I am being refined like a pottery, literally. 

Today I did tell the manager and someone is trying to fix the ac….taking matters into my hand. I’ve done that so many times on this trip…

Where am I going and who am I? That’s the greater question. 

The back alleys of Hanoi 

I love dilapidated buildings    
    
    
   

Learn how to say coffee, milk and sugar in Vietnamese 

Because if you don’t know how they will not add milk or sugar to your coffee and it’ll be so intense you’ll get a head rush. 

Some coffee shops will give you tea along with your coffee…   

Speaking of animals- 

Dogs walk freely in most of Southeast Asia.

They don’t bite either. But don’t touch them because it might be dirty. 

   
    
 
Oops caught this dog in action 

My beautiful couchsurfing host:   

 

The God of love who is love 

That is my radical 4:11

No not an ancient mythology, not rites of action and sacrifice, no, a radical love which stirs my spirit to sing and dance; which causes my soul to cry and forgive; which causes love for my own depraved soul to rise again 

A God who became imperfection to die for humanity. That is my radical passionate love. Who shows me I am God material, more powerful and abundant than I’ve ever known.

My radical passionate love knows me from the inside out; built my Dna to create fine works of art, to speak multiple languages, to feel compassion for an orphaned child; my radical love causes me to see heaven before I’ve even died to see the grave, no it’s no ancient love, it’s a passionate pursuit.  

 

Well on earth anyways.

So say what you mean, mean what you say, do what you want, when you want to, work the jobs you want, create the things you want, eat the food you want, love the people you want, like and hang out with people you actually care for, don’t hang out with people you don’t like, go where you want, write and draw what you want; be how you want.

Vietnam   

You are my closest friend 

My deepest hope, my light in darkness 

You are.

Even when my heart feels dry, you keep me going. 

 

Here is the honest truth, I started blogging because I needed to vent and it started with xanga. So it’s been awhile, I’ve been blogging since teenage acne and even middle school crushes. 

I don’t give a fuck about what people think. 

Now I started blogging or doing reviews because I love food, and I’ve written for newspapers and magazines on subjects I am passionate about, but otherwise, I can’t blog or write when I’m not in the mood.

So here’s me chilling with cane sugar in Vietnam 

I got asked by a lot of Thai people- where are you from?

I said Los Angeles.

But you look Chinese, well yes, I am of Chinese descent and also I was born in Germany. 

It got a little annoying- then I thought well there’s white people who were born in Asia too, but it’s a little bit rare.

Then I thought wait a minute all these Caucasians are lounging in Southeast Asia and they are treated like gods because they will pay for the mohjitos, the monkey blowjobs, the ping pong shows…

But how about non- Caucasians in caucasian countries? They’re not called expats, they’re immigrants or refugees who are “taking advantage of the system”. 

Hmmmm.

Interesting thought.