Secrets in the Trunk (and more)

Eye-Opening Moments are real-life stories of adversity, encounters, and perspectives intertwined. In this episode you will hear about Secrets in the Trunk & The Unnoticed Laundromat.

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Books: https://amazon.com/author/emily-kay-tan.2021_

Chapters

• 0:21 Introduction
• 1:02 Secrets in the Trunk
• 9:59 The Unnoticed Laundromat Value
• 20:36 Key Takeaways

Transcript

Hello and welcome to episode #180 of Eye-Opening Moments where you’ll hear stories of adversity, encounters, and perspectives intertwined. They are moments that can lift your spirits, give you some food for thought, or move you. For the introspective mind that likes to reflect, discover, and find solutions or meaning in a complex life, this is for you. I’m your host Emily Kay Tan. In this episode, you will hear about Secrets in the Trunk & The Unnoticed Laundromat Value.

Secrets in the Trunk
“What is in this trunk?” said Teo. “My stuff,” I said. “What?” inquired Teo. “Just old things,” I said. My boyfriend Teo proceeded to examine the lock on my big black trunk and wondered how he could open it. His curiosity scared me. What if he broke into my trunk and saw its contents? Would he look at me differently? Would he still like me? I was terrified that he would see what was inside; I needed to stop his meddling in my business.

Teo was a new boyfriend who came into my apartment for the first time. We were both twenty-something. He looked around and was curious about my belongings. Teo saw my shelves of many books and gathered that I was a studious and learned person. He slid open the closet in my guest bedroom and saw a trunk at the bottom. The lock was gold-plated, so its appearance caught his eye quickly. He was curious about what was inside and inquired.

I was unprepared and didn’t know what to say. I only knew I was frightened for him to see the inside of it. I was not ready for Teo to see my personal belongings. I had fun with Teo but was not yet serious with him and was not ready for that next step. Why did I let him in my place and get myself into such a predicament? Teo was getting serious with me, but I was not quite feeling it.

Teo asked again, but I was vague about it. I tried distracting him by talking about other things. He asked again. I kissed and kissed him to distract him from his continued inquiries.

I didn’t want Teo to see pictures of my former boyfriends. He wouldn’t feel good if he saw them anyway. But he would see them if I unlocked the trunk. I didn’t want Teo to see my teenage diaries of a terrible period in my life. I didn’t think he knew me well enough to begin to understand my past life and be able to accept it.

Teo came from a traditional family where family was everything. Family is important to me, too, but I came from a dysfunctional family, and my mom sent me away to live with her mother in another state when I was five because she was an overwhelmed teen mother with three kids already. How could Teo begin to understand the complexities of my childhood when I hardly shared anything personal?

Though I was with my grandmother when I was five, she sent me back to live with my family when I was fourteen to sixteen. I got electrocution-style zaps of Mom’s values that were drastically different from Grandma’s values. The two years of living with my parents and siblings were when I began writing my diaries. Mom allowed my sisters to have extracurricular activities like dancing, gymnastics, and piano, while I did not get anything. My sisters had long hair, while Mom cut my hair short like a boy. I screamed, “I HATE HER, I HATE HER,” in my diary. 

How could Teo or anyone understand why my mother treated me differently? I didn’t even know the answer. How could Teo understand my hatred for my mother? He didn’t know what my mother did to me, and even if he did, could he possibly be sympathetic? He couldn’t be empathetic because he never knew of a family that didn’t love each other. Teo’s curiosity worried me. The matter about this trunk could lead us into a fight or trigger a turning point in our relationship to make or break it.

A simple night out on the town filled with fun and laughter could become a serious blowout because Teo wanted to spend a relaxing late evening in my apartment. Teo and I continued kissing. Teo was actively participating while I was passively responding and thinking about how Teo would react if he read my many notebooks of diaries I had written during those two teen years.

I had recorded the time I hid under my bed to pretend I was not home when Mom thought I was working at McDonald’s. I had put in some overtime; the manager discovered it and did not allow me to work that day. I wished I could be at work instead of home in the miserable world of being with my family. If Teo saw this entry, what would he think of me? Would he think I was crazy to hide under my bed? Would he think I was a bad girl not to love being with my family? I thought the answer would be yes, so I didn’t want him to see my diaries.

I had written about sneaking into my dad’s closet to learn more about this man I hardly knew because I spent most of my childhood with Grandma’s family in another state. Would Teo think I was an unruly child? Teo came from a wholesome family, so could he digest this diary entry? I could see our relationship falling apart if he did, and I didn’t want the fun to end.

I also wrote about the time Mom bought me a record player so I would play music in my bedroom instead of the living room. It was because my older sister didn’t like listening to the language of our ancestry. My family was all about assimilation into American culture. But I grew up with Grandma, and she was all about retaining our ancestry. So, I enjoyed and learned my ancestor’s language and music. If Teo knew my family did not appreciate our ancestry, he would be disappointed.

I once witnessed my father strip my two eight-year-old brothers naked to whip them with his belt. I don’t know what they did that was so bad, but hearing the crying screams and seeing the bright red slashes on their backs flooded tears on my face. I didn’t want anyone to know the horrible happenings in my family. I certainly didn’t wish Teo to know. I didn’t want to be judged by my family, the one I only lived with for a short while. But it was written in my diary.

My older sister had cosmetic surgery on her nose. My younger sister had breast implants. Mom had cosmetic surgery for her nose and chin. They disgusted me for how vain they were. Physical appearance was too important to them. I thought they needed to work more on their moral character. I grew up with Grandma and had a different set of values from them. I was ashamed of my mother and sisters. I thought Teo would also be disgusted with them like I was. I didn’t want him to read and know about it from my diaries.

I hurried to the bathroom, fearing Teo would break into my trunk. I did not want to risk Teo seeing the contents. I persuaded him to go for an evening walk in the cold and crisp evening air. The warmth I had inside with this new boyfriend was cooling and getting colder by the minute. Though we walked arm in arm, filled with smiles, my heart sank. Thoughts of my diaries and everything I didn’t want him to know for fear of negative judgments engulfed me.

After sitting in my black trunk for nine years, my diaries soon met their demise. The day after Teo discovered I had a trunk full of secrets, I shredded all my diary entries and discarded them in a dumpster. The fear I had of Teo seeing my diaries ended. The strain of my teenage years was also disposed of, and my family secrets were kept safe from Teo. I breathed a sigh of relief, but because I refused to open the trunk for Teo, my secrets in the trunk revealed to me the cracks in our relationship or that he was not the one who would be my soul mate.

The Unnoticed Laundromat Value
It was 7 a.m. Sunday morning when Grandma Sandy woke me up and dragged me out of bed to go to the laundromat with her. She did it every other Sunday, and I hated it! Who likes to be awakened from a warm and cozy bed? Who enjoys waking up early on a Sunday morning? Who wants to be awakened from a peaceful sleep and then get angry first thing in the morning? It made me hate going to the laundromat for many years. Only recently, decades later, did I begin to enjoy going to the laundromat and reflect on the times going there with Grandma. I discovered some gems about going to the laundromat and going with Grandma Sandy.

At nine years old, I slept in a bunk bed with one of my uncles above me and another uncle in another bed nearby. It wasn’t creepy; I was just a kid in a cramped apartment with eight relatives. Grandma would tiptoe into the room to not wake up my two uncles, but she felt fine waking me up. As a light sleeper, it was easy to wake me up. Once awakened, I kicked my covers, angry that she had called me to get up. I kicked and kicked, but Grandma softly said we needed to go to the laundromat. It almost sounded soothing while I was heated in anger and kicking in bed some more. I wished Grandma would go away and let me sleep in peace like my uncles, who were sleeping soundly. But she would not go away until I got up.

I woke up angry. Grandma did not respond to it. She seemed to just go about her business like whatever needed to be done had to be done. She carried two big bags of laundry, and I took two smaller bags of laundry. Mine were not much smaller, but they felt big in my smaller hands. We walked about fifteen minutes to get to the nearest coin-operated laundromat. It was a long and laborious trip for me to get there. My arm muscles hurt, and it was no fun at all. I screamed inside, “I hate going to the laundromat!”

I never thought about how hard it could have been on Grandma, who was much older than me and carried the burden of caring for her family. Grandpa never did any housework, and she’d frequently reprimand him for sitting there leisurely drinking a shot of alcohol, smoking, and reading the newspaper all day. I suppose I was a kid who only thought about herself and no one else. Only now, I feel sad that I didn’t know or think about the hardships Grandma endured. Though I was reluctant, I helped her and kept her company. Now, I am glad I did at least that much.

Grandma and I sat down after putting laundry and detergent into the washing machines. She seemed to enjoy sitting down the most. She would sigh, relieved that she could rest a while. Swinging my feet back and forth on the chair, I was bored. Soon, I would get agitated because Grandma would start telling me the same stories over and over about how Mom sacrificed herself so that the whole family could come to America. Maybe she wanted me to love my mother and understand why she was helping Mom by caring for me. Hearing the stories made me hate Mom more. I would stare at the washing machine spinning around and around and over and over. Grandma’s voice would become refrigerator noise to me because I didn’t want to hear the stories. When will it stop? I wondered. Grandma’s talking wouldn’t stop until the machines stopped spinning. Sometimes, she would stop and get us candy or nuts from a vending machine. Still, being at the laundromat with Grandma was boring and annoying. That was how I spent every other Sunday morning; you can’t call that fun for a nine-year-old.

After the wash, we put the wet clothes in the dryers. And then it was back to the sitting and waiting. Grandma seemed to enjoy sitting and talking. I did not. I didn’t enjoy her lectures about how to be a good girl. “Study hard and get good grades. You need to help me with the chores and errands. When you grow up, it will help you know how to care for your family,” Grandma nagged and nagged. I only screamed inside. Stop the nagging! It was half an hour during the wash cycle and one hour during the drying cycle. That is one and a half hours of listening to Grandma’s repeated nagging and stories I didn’t want to hear! She talked a lot, and I hardly spoke. That was the way it was supposed to be. I was to listen and be an obedient little girl. I was, and I was or got used to listening more and talking less. All grown up, I now wish I conversed with Grandma or asked her questions about her life. Of course, I can only say that in hindsight. 

As an adult with a house I owned, I had a washer and dryer in the house, and I jumped for joy. I no longer needed to walk and carry laundry to the laundromat like I did with Grandma. Grateful, I reveled in the luxury of not straining my arms to hold it and not needing to hear Grandma’s nagging lectures and stories about Mom in my ears. It was a big deal! I graduated from a poor life to a middle-class life. I escaped listening to what I didn’t want to hear. I was freed from being dragged out of bed on Sunday mornings to go to the laundromat. I stopped waking up in anger and kicking the bedsheets. I could wake up feeling peaceful and enjoy quiet sounds. But eighteen years of the good life of having a washer and dryer in three of my former houses came to an end as things changed in my life.

I moved abroad. I now live in a studio apartment. I walk ten minutes to the laundromat, pulling my suitcase and dirty clothes inside. The distance to the laundromat is ten minutes shorter than when I was a kid. I thought of using a suitcase instead of large bags like when I went with Grandma as a kid. I walk alone instead of with my Grandma, who passed away many years ago. The distance is shorter; I can pull instead of carry my laundry, and I don’t have a nagging grandmother annoying me, but I still scream inside, “I hate doing the laundry!” Why?

As I pull my dirty clothes down the street, I am annoyed and angry that I have to do it. It reminds me of the times as a kid when my grandmother would wake me up and drag me to the laundromat with her. Then, I would have to endure her lectures, nagging, and boring stories while waiting for the laundry to wash and dry. My inside voice screams again, “I hate going to the laundromat!”

My distaste for the chore happened every time I needed to do it. But I am not that nine-year-old anymore. I need to change my perception, I tell myself. Let me see the positives. The short walk gives me a little exercise. I feel good when my clothes are clean. I feel like I have new clothes when I fold and put them away. While waiting for my clothes to wash and dry, I can relax at the café next door to it. If I am at work, I am busy. If I am at home, I am busy, too, so sitting at the café waiting for my laundry and not doing much is an effort!

I now know that there are good things about going to the laundromat. I most appreciate the time to sit there doing nothing. I could read, write, or browse the internet on my phone, but I choose to quiet my mind and stare out the window at the trees. They relax me. That is an unnoticed gem!

Whenever I am walking to the laundromat, I still think of Grandma. Instead of getting annoyed or angry, I decided to create positive thoughts. I helped Grandma and kept her company doing chores. I know I did something good because I wish I had someone to help me and keep me company doing my chores now. I wish I had somebody to chat with while at the laundromat now. I had Grandma when I was a kid, but I didn’t know better than to appreciate the time I spent with her. Since she was a grown woman, she probably appreciated my company with her at the laundromat. I wish I knew, but I can smile knowing I did something good for my grandmother. That is another gem I got from recent trips to the laundromat.

Watching the washer and dryer spin around can be therapeutic and soothing. It gives me time to relax and calm my mind; it reduces automatic negative voices in my head. That one-plus hour is precious time spent caring for my sanity and well-being. I am glad to discover yet another laundromat gem.

Though I hated going to the laundromat as a child, and when I moved abroad because it reminded me of when I went with my grandmother, I changed my thoughts and found a few gems. I discovered the once unnoticed laundromat value. Having time to relax and provide myself with some self-care while waiting for my laundry today is comforting. Knowing that I helped Grandma or kept her company warms my heart, too. Though I did not know how to value the time at the laundromat with my grandmother before, I have since learned lessons. With a change in perspective and growing up, I now enjoy the chore instead of hating it. The chore of going to the laundromat has hidden gems!

Key Takeaways
Though Teo wanted to know the secrets in my trunk, I didn’t want him to see them, and I realized the cracks in our relationship.

Though I hated going to the laundromat, it was precious time spent with my grandmother.

Next week, you will hear two real-life stories called Escape from the Past and Future & The Day I Knew. If you enjoyed this episode of Eye-Opening Moments, please text someone and ask them what they think about this podcast, or go to www.inspiremereads.com and leave a message. Thank you for listening!