Killing ANTs - 4/19/19

I walked into the venue and stopped about ten feet inside the door to do a quick scan. I had never been into a country bar. My total bar experience wasn’t huge to begin with, but it felt good to get out. Flannel, cowboy hats, tight jeans, boots everywhere. I caught the glance of a few people, as their eyes held mine for a few seconds then turned back to each other. As the only Asian in the venue, my mind began to churn.

“Of course, everyone is looking at me. What are they talking about?”

I can count on one hand the times I’ve stumbled across racism in my life, and you could barely even call it racism. This was California. I was fine. Being a model minority and “Asian Nice Guy,” I’ve snuck under the radar a few times, like a camouflaged cuttlefish witnessing the unfortunate experiences of others. But at this country bar, I couldn’t deny the fact that I stood out upon entry. I was on edge and thought of all the negative possibilities. It was just the state of my union. At that time of my mid-20s, my confidence was a fragile seedling thrust in the wilderness, bending each time the wind shifted. I struggled with women, getting numbers, being entertaining, the whole bit. Achieving dating status seemed so far off. I blamed it on my ethnicity. It was bad.

Thoughts continue.

“What were they saying about me? Why were they saying it? Was it because I’m Asian? Are they going to kick my ass? It is because I’m not dressed like them? Look like them?”

Looking back, it really didn’t fucking matter. Why? Because the false presupposition I held was that they were talking about me in the first place. It was narcissistic of me to think that all people did all day was look at me and think or talk about me. Now sure, it may or may not have been true, but it was unfair to myself to decide on a negative verdict and let it set the mood for the night. I had just gotten there. There was ZERO evidence that anyone gave a shit about me in the first place. Over time, I’ve learned this isn’t a bad thing. It was a liberating thing! My path to victimization was a difficult one to strive away from, but once I realized that everyone was too worried about what other people thought about themselves, the script was flipped. I became the judge, the audience, the bystanders in their stories, and it gave me the power to change it for them, if I felt inclined to.

The cuttlefish has acquired new powers.

My friends blew past me to the bar and snapped me out of my sad state of affairs as I was told to join. I was asked to dance more times by beautiful women that night than I have in my entire life combined. Sadly, I had to decline, as most dancing was either partner or line dancing that I had yet to learn, but with my friend’s encouragement, I made up for it during “freestyle” breaks, intermissions filled with pop music, which was more of my background at the time.

I was completely wrong that night and for every night since then.

I hadn’t even considered that women were looking at me and giggling because they were attracted to me. Now I got to come up with reasons why, rather than not. My former world view had completely fucked me up. It was shattered that night, never to return.

Jim Kwik, a world expert in learning, celebrity brain coach, and mental trainer calls this negative self-talk ANTs for Automatic Negative Thoughts. And just like ants, you can squash them! I had these negative thoughts all the time growing up and they were never squashed. They grew big and strong, and invaded my thoughts and beliefs. It was time to crush these lying ANTs, now and forever.

Over the course of years, I would be going back to this bar many times, including my birthday, New Year's and during other celebrations. I learned some dances. People knew my name. The bartenders knew my drink. I learned to embrace my differences and eventually felt at home. Nobody actually wished me harm in asking me my race (maybe for other reasons), so I was never offended. I would turn those questions into a game, fun for everyone, with a victory beer for the winner (usually me). I would ask them them to take three guesses, but before that, I would predict in what order their three guesses would be and tell one of their friends.

Victory beer, every time.

Rather than being offended, I made so many new friends this way. Laughter, clinking beer bottles, high fives all around. A good night each time.

Once I begin exercising this mental judo, everything changed for me. I almost felt unoffendable, even when people tried. Seldomly, when a fellow patron wanted to move in on a lady I was talking to, they would call me racial slurs, make fun of my eyes, my dick size, whatever Asian stereotype they could remember from grade school. I didn’t flinch. Sometimes I would help them out and make fun of myself. I could only imagine it was like fighting a ghost or an empty jacket.

Bomb defused.

To my surprise, this not only increased attraction from the women in the group. Said offender was, at best, laughing his ass off, and at worst, just gave up and walked away. We all continued to have a good time. I never escalated and never felt the need to. I can imagine an alternate universe, where I could have continued to let the words get to me, responded in a negative fashion, and ruined many a nights (and dates) with amazing people.

The fear of becoming arrogant from this frame of thinking is akin to people not going to the gym because they are afraid they will get too big. If it was only that easy. The path is a long one and you are allowed to constantly calibrate during your journey. Just try it out first. Every morning, think about the ANTs crawling their way into your consciousn-SQUISH! Just like that.

Then, repeat after me:

“I am the greatest there ever was and the greatest there ever will be!

At being me.”

Fuck, yeah! It’s Friday!

Side Note:

On November 7th, 2018, 12 people, mostly college students, were shot and killed at the Borderline Bar and Grill in Thousand Oaks, CA. It changed the bar forever for myself, my friends, and anyone that spent considerable time there over the years. It was a special place were I grew tons, had so many good nights, and met many amazing people. The venue may never return to the state that it was in these precious memories, but I'm happy to have experienced it in the time I did. My heart breaks for the families that lost loved ones that night. There is no need to wait for another tragedy to donate blood, food, and clothing. If you need help, don't give up and don't hesitate to reach out. Everyone is fighting a battle. But we don't have to fight it alone.