Crying For Badassery

I cry a lot in this country. I cried in the States, but things here seem to set me off more easily. A teacher at my Islamic middle school says something nice to me. Tears start. My host mother says my arms are getting fat. Tears prepare to drop. My friend saves her last piece of chocolate cookie. Girl, get ready for a waterfall!

Despite that melodrama, I have the strongest Peace Corps ally that tries to keep me level headed. She’s ruthless, and she gets shit done. Her badassery is on another level. Envious. Honestly, I’d like to eventually get on that level. Hell, I’m aiming for that badass rugby level where a bloody nose just needs to be wiped before the next tackle. Considering that I still get emotional from being called fat, I say that level is going to take a while to reach. I assumed Peace Corps service was supposed to make me stronger. Although I am much stronger professionally, I’m still a wreck emotionally.

I recently went through a break up. It wasn’t volatile. I still wish him well, but considering that emotions are often known to intensify during Peace Corps service, I was prepared for sad times ahead. The first week, I cried every day. The second week, I binged on everything. It’s funny. The first week, it’s like I expelled my emotions with salty tears. The second week, I tried to replace them by consuming all the things that fulfill my sweet tooth. As it so happens, sweet does not replace the salty.

So, of course, my best ally comforted me using her awesome mix of back patting and ball busting. I needed both. It’s now the third week. I’ve started to wear a rubber band around my wrist that I pull hard and fast every time I think about his sweet smile or New Zealand accent or his really tight *snap*

I’ll try anything.

The first night after the break up, I cried all night. I cried because he and I weren’t suitable for each other, and I cried because I wasn’t strong enough to take it in stride. Obviously my eyes were puffy the next morning, but my eyesight was also strangely clear. From my idealistic and slightly melodramatic perspective, I saw that clearness as I cried all night, so my eyes were clean and ready to see the world. Considering that I cried a lot less than I did my last break up, it seems that Peace Corps is actually helping me to slowly reach that badassery level. I'm ready to see the world again, tissues at hand.