Since You Asked
You always meet a man just when you’re ready to leave
I'm finally done with Tokyo. So why is this man suddenly being so nice to me?
Dear Cary,
I have lived in Tokyo, my adopted city, since my early 20s. After six years, I am beginning to resent the restrictions on my life that come from being a foreigner without permanent residency and have become less able to brush aside the racial stereotyping and discrimination that I experience on a regular basis. Recently I began to consider the fact that maybe I couldn’t make a life for myself here. The thought of a future without my oldest friends or family, without the right to vote, without guaranteed healthcare, frightens me. My work here is not enough to anchor me; in fact I could almost certainly find better-paid work in my home country, and my gender would not be as great a disadvantage to me there as it is here. And I have been out with a string of men who weren’t right for me, blaming our splits on cultural differences, and failing to find the perfect partner. In three years’ time I will be 30 and I want to have settled down by then.
So this year I began to make concrete plans to leave. I told my boss, my family, my best friend. I examined flight schedules, rental agreements, international moving services. For a while I was almost optimistic again as I imagined creating another new life; the third in a series and perhaps luckier than the preceding two.
But a couple of months ago I met someone. When we first met, I told him that I had already made plans to leave, and we should just be friends, but our relationship has broken through the bounds of friendship. We have amazing conversations, I think about him all the time, he makes me laugh and holds me when I cry. I have not felt like this about another person for 10 years, and I can’t bear the thought of letting him go, but at the same time I don’t want to stay here with him as the only reason. What if I continue in my dead-end job, remaining away from my family to be with him and we end up splitting after a couple of years?
He still thinks that I am leaving in three months’ time. I’m afraid to tell him I’m ready to stay here for him in case it scares him away. I don’t think he is ready to make a commitment after only a couple of months. Should I wait and put up with the rest of the crap in my life to see if our relationship progresses? Or should I stick to my original plan and hope that I can find another soul mate on the other side of the world?
Traumatized in Tokyo
Dear Traumatized,
I am in the business, you might say, of envisioning catastrophes and miracles. Each has equal attraction for the imagination, and each circumstance has the potential for either fate.
With equal ease I can imagine you finally being rescued by this man from your isolation and despair in Japan, or being subtly held captive by the unrealized dream of such rescue. Which will it be? I, in my hardheaded bias toward concerted action (born of frustration with a family of inertia and indecision), favor sticking with your decision to leave. My fear for you is that if you waver, you will never get out of Japan and things will never change for you. But that, as I say, comes from a man who grew up in a family that was forever planning a fantastic voyage that never occurred. People like us never get to Japan in the first place.
You, on the other hand, seem to be after something subtler and more complex.
So say you do the sensible thing: Delay your departure for six months or a year until you see what develops. Who could fault you for that? For sometimes it’s at just that moment of maximum disillusionment when everything changes. We reach the end of the line, we purify ourselves of need, we let go of all we previously hankered after, and then a gift arrives in a strange new box.
My wife, for instance, when we met, had completely had it with men. She had washed her hands of all of us. Another man in her life was the last thing she had in mind. But suddenly there I was: Baby baby baby let’s try to make this work! If it doesn’t work, no problem, I’ll disappear! But I did not disappear. I am still here, trying to make it work, providing amusement and exasperation in equal measure. You would have to ask her if it was worth it or not — but she still has not left our little island!
But how do you know if the sudden shift in winds signals deliverance from shipwreck, or another wrecking storm, worse than before? I think it may help if you try to understand what drove you to live in Japan in the first place: Was it a feeling of aesthetic estrangement from America, that nagging dislocation of the intellectual exile, an enchantment with Kabuki and vertiginous ink paintings of high, hollow cliffs with waterfalls and courtesans and old men walking a long way without speaking, virtuoso tea-ceremony gestures speaking the way a stone speaks to the river, their savage art of sword making, their amazing carpentry techniques and all the other things they do so much better than we do things here?
And what is it that pulls you back to America? Do you think about your family and how they missed you? Do your friends sometimes wonder if it was something they did? Do you regret all the ties you carefully untied after they had been carefully tied by others? Do you think about the naive orientalism of Americans and our privileged modes of travel, our tourism by satellite, the culture-proof vests we wear for safety in other countries? Do you sometimes suspect that, much as you want to be elsewhere, there is only one place you truly belong?
Perhaps you will never leave Japan. Or perhaps this will be the final burst of hope after which follows a serene realization that it is time to go, and as the plane rises out of Narita Airport you realize that Mount Fuji is just another code for something you can’t say but have to make a rubbing of, and you start to answer your own questions: What were you looking for in Japan all that time? Did you find it? Were you able to keep it? Or did they make you surrender it at the airport?
- – - – - – - – - – - -
What? You want more?
Cary Tennis writes Salon's advice column, leads writing workshops and creative getaways, publishes books, writes an occasional newsletter and tweets as @carytennis.
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My sister’s stalker
He accosted her on the street and forced her into his car. She went to the police and they did nothing
(Credit: Zach Trenholm/Salon) Dear Cary,
My younger sister is a 21-year-old college student who is “trapped” in an abusive relationship with her ex-boyfriend, who is 35 years old. She first met him when she was 19, fell in love with him and eventually moved in with him. After they started living together, she discovered that he was emotionally and verbally abusive, to the point that after six months, she had had enough, broke it off and moved out. The problem now is that for over a year, he refuses to accept that their relationship is over. Although he has not physically abused her, he has “forced” her into his car, screamed at her in public, in front of her professors and classmates, snatched her cellphone out of her hand to see if she has been talking to/texting other guys. He stalks her, physically, following her around town, staking out her apartment, and electronically, constantly checking her cellphone, email, Facebook, Amazon accounts, etc. (During the time that they were living together, he managed to get access to these accounts, and somehow manipulate the password access such that he continues to have access, despite my sister’s attempts to change passwords, etc.)
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Cary Tennis writes Salon's advice column, leads writing workshops and creative getaways, publishes books, writes an occasional newsletter and tweets as @carytennis.
- Send me a letter! Ask for advice! Letter writers please note: By sending a letter to advice@salon.com, you are giving Salon permission to publish it. Once you submit it, it may not be possible to rescind it. So be sure.
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Stop the wedding!
She's wrong for him! She'll ruin his life! What can we do?
(Credit: Zach Trenholm/Salon) Cary,
My dear friend is about to marry the wrong person. He is a brilliant, outgoing man, always willing to put others first, and in this case to a fault. His fiancée has pursued him since high school. He avoided her romantic advances for years, knowing he could do better, but she is a very smart and manipulative person and succeeded in landing him as a boyfriend. In the early years, he occasionally expressed a desire to break up with her, but could not build the nerve to do so. Since then, almost a decade has passed, and they are still the only partners either has ever had. I know that if he could press a button and wake up tomorrow with her happy and living in another city, and him happy and single, he would do it. However, a number of factors have kept him from leaving her. Their best friends from childhood are very close-knit (for example, his older brother is best friends with her older brother), and their families are close friends as well. Understandably, he feels like to break up with her would shatter this group of people he cares so much about, not to mention the emotional impact it would have on her.
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Cary Tennis writes Salon's advice column, leads writing workshops and creative getaways, publishes books, writes an occasional newsletter and tweets as @carytennis.
- Send me a letter! Ask for advice! Letter writers please note: By sending a letter to advice@salon.com, you are giving Salon permission to publish it. Once you submit it, it may not be possible to rescind it. So be sure.
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More Cary Tennis.
My friend calls Obama a monkey
What am I supposed to say to this dude? What's his problem?
(Credit: Zach Trenholm/Salon) Dear Cary,
I have a friend that cannot speak about the president of the United States without using the word “monkey” or “chimpanzee.”
There have been presidents I was not thrilled about, but certainly I would not stoop to this.
This individual is well-off, has a degree and is considerate about most other topics.
What the HELL is his problem?
Thanks Cary,
Bewildered
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Cary Tennis writes Salon's advice column, leads writing workshops and creative getaways, publishes books, writes an occasional newsletter and tweets as @carytennis.
- Send me a letter! Ask for advice! Letter writers please note: By sending a letter to advice@salon.com, you are giving Salon permission to publish it. Once you submit it, it may not be possible to rescind it. So be sure.
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More Cary Tennis.
My secretly bisexual husband
He's been with four men he met on Craigslist. Do I stick with him for our teenage daughters?
(Credit: Zach Trenholm/Salon) Dear Cary,
Recently my husband of 18 years has explored his sexuality with other men. He admitted having four sexual encounters with random men he solicited from Craigslist. After a week of hell, and many a shouting match, he begged me to take him back, claiming that his experimentation is not worth losing his family. As in a textbook scenario, he, somehow, convinced himself that I, being very liberal and supportive of gay community, would understand, and maybe even approve, his urges. Having two teenage daughters and being a stay-at-home mom, I have initially agreed to let him back into the family fold, after all his STD tests came back clean.
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Cary Tennis writes Salon's advice column, leads writing workshops and creative getaways, publishes books, writes an occasional newsletter and tweets as @carytennis.
- Send me a letter! Ask for advice! Letter writers please note: By sending a letter to advice@salon.com, you are giving Salon permission to publish it. Once you submit it, it may not be possible to rescind it. So be sure.
- Make a comment to Cary Tennis not for publication.
- Send a letter to Salon's editors not for publication.
More Cary Tennis.
We were breast-fed really late
My mother continued to let us touch her for years after feeding stopped, and now it feels creepy and revolting
(Credit: Zach Trenholm/Salon) Dear Cary,
I don’t know how to put this any way but bluntly, so here goes. My mom let me and my brother breast-feed really, really late– until we were 4 or 5. She let us touch and play with her breasts for years after that. She never told us what sex was, and later when I found out for myself, my body changing on its own, I felt revulsion at the all-too-recent memories of how I touched, and wanted to touch, my own mother. I hated that she hadn’t stopped me.
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Cary Tennis writes Salon's advice column, leads writing workshops and creative getaways, publishes books, writes an occasional newsletter and tweets as @carytennis.
- Send me a letter! Ask for advice! Letter writers please note: By sending a letter to advice@salon.com, you are giving Salon permission to publish it. Once you submit it, it may not be possible to rescind it. So be sure.
- Make a comment to Cary Tennis not for publication.
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