06 August 2023

a Midsommar (not the summer solstice version but rather, the middle-of-summer style) Saturday Arbitrary Day

When we moved here, we started new jobs for the same company, and when we started our new jobs, I decided to go by my birth name turned middle name, Sun. The name given to me at the time of my birth is a name that my birth grandfather chose, which was the name 선 (Sun or Seon; my paperwork has it spelled Sun), which means that my Korean name is 김선 or Kim Sun. My birth family name is Kim. I'm a Kim, and my first name is Sun (yes, it's odd that I have a single-syllable name as a Korean, and I wrote about this a while back after feeling certain feels when Koreans would ask me if I had a Korean name and I'd tell them, and then they'd look at me like so sad, because they thought that a] my paperwork was wrong, or b] I didn't actually know, so I was making it up or something). 

Anywhooo, when I was adopted two months before turning four, my adopted parents decided to give me a white name. To this day, I do not understand the logic behind giving me a new name at all. I was FOUR YEARS OLD, which means that I had been being called "Sun" for all of my life. I knew my name. I recognized being called Sun. My birth mother, to this day, still calls me Sun, not Kim Sun, just Sun or something like Sun-ee-ya. 

My point is that my birth family looked upon my face upon my birth, and my birth grandfather gave me my name. They were the people who saw my face as a little baby infant and decided to name me Sun. Later, when times got tough, I was dropped off at an orphanage and internationally adopted to the United States. I blame no one. I understand Korea's history.

Again, I do not understand why my adopted parents would give me a new name, and why is that new name so White?

If I'm being really honest, I've wanted to go by Sun since about the sixth grade, but society makes changing one's name seem so odd and strange that I didn't work up the nerve to ask to go by my birth name until this year, at the ripe age of thirty-seven. 

And so, here in Hawai'i, at my place of employment, everyone calls me Sun, and quite frankly, everyone knows me as Sun, and it feels so strange, and it brings me an odd sense of peace-discomfort. 

At this point, I really have no point, because the rest of this post is pics from our Midsommar Saturday Arbitrary Day. We decided a few weeks back, that once I've settled into my new job and started receiving paychecks at my new pay, we'd do some vacationing on our weekends, and so, this was the first big official weekend, so we celebrated an Arbitrary Day.

First, we walked out to the place where all knowledge is kept, wherein I accidentally walked into the courtyard and took some pics of some beautiful foliage, but then realized that there were signs everywhere asking that we NOT walk through the courtyard, so then I was horrified and embarrassed, and promptly deleted all of the pics I took, hence the [redacted] photo below.

Then, we walked out to Goodwill to pick up some more kitchen stuff of which we are in need, and on the way, we stopped by the Golden Arches for some tasty lunch, and while we were there, we wondered when United Statesian Mackey's got so classy, cause they are classy in Seoul, but this was the first on U.S. soil we've visited that is Seoul-level classy, etc.

Then, we swung through Daiso for more kitchen stuff and fun stuff to include in my first-ever IG Giveaway :)

And then, the best day ended on the best note ever. We went back to the posh grocery store (one we only discovered last weekend) where we saw a plant that we need-needed, bought the plant, and walked our new roommate home.

For dinner, we finished up the leftovers from Friday and ate more cinnabonners (the bodybuddy/lifemate's cinnamon rolls), and then I promptly passed out, cause we had stayed up much later into the day than we typically do as night-shift jobbers.

Basically, I am very curious about what my life would've been like, who I would've turned into if I had been called Sun my entire life. When my co-jobbers call me Sun, it still feels strange, to me, but sounds so normal coming out of their mouths. They only know me as Sun, and that's so strange to me. I do not expect old friends to call me Sun, since they've all known me as Tiffany, but I do kind of hope that people who meet me from now on to know me as Sun. I've never felt like a ditsy-dumb-blonde (I know, stereotypes suck, #sorrynotsorry) Tiffany, but I have always loved the name Sun, despite not being called by that name (that I can remember) until, literally, two months ago. 

The name Sun feels so me and yet feels so foreign.

None of this really matters in the big scheme of My Life, but it does matter a lot within the small details of everyday living. Someday, I will let go of the frustration surrounding my white adopted parents need to give me a "new" name, when I had had a name and knew myself that way. I feel sad for that little girl named Sun who was wiped white. I feel sad that I must've been confused and felt unseen and maybe somewhat invisible, like Sun didn't matter. It would explain a lot of my social psychology/anxiety when considering how I feel like everyone is hostile, and I must constantly combat that internal feeling, because really, people don't care enough about other people to be nice or hostile. For most people, their own life is difficult enough, too difficult perhaps to even care about being mean or nice. 

Thus, I must believe that I am not being treated, on purpose, in a particular way. I am just me. Others are just themselves, and I can move through the world without being scared that someone is actively trying to harm me because whoever Sun is doesn't matter. Sun does matter. Even if she didn't matter to my adopted parents. She matters to me. And so, Sun and I are on a journey now, together with my bodybuddy/lifemate. 

No, my adopted parents no longer get to go on this journey, until or unless they show me that they understand what they did to me. Obviously, I do not think that they were actively trying to harm me. I wholeheartedly believe that they think that they love me, but they do not know how to love themselves or each other, so there's no way in hell they know how to love me. This is apparent. And so, I know they are upset that they have not been welcomed into my life as Sun, but they can be part of her life, once they admit that they rid her of her Korean-ness, and so now, I am doing double-duty to find myself.

Until then, of course I'm grateful for the opportunity adoption afforded me, the privilege for which I never asked, but the reality is that I'd rather be a Korean orphan than a white adoptee.