“The new parents asked me if I was staying another year. I told them no and they got upset until my co-teacher explained why I’m leaving. Then they were happy.”
Good Man grinned. “It’s because I’m Korean.”
Last night at the restaurant, I left the table for a moment. While I was gone, washing my hands, I trust [Good Man] popped into my head.
Before coming to Korea, I was with a man who flirted with women in front of me. He did it just enough to make me feel like maybe my mind was playing tricks on me.
But whenever I complained, he told me I was overreacting. My friends generally excused the behavior—either I was “jealous” or “controlling” or their boyfriends/husbands did the same thing so was it “normal.” (Or, worse, I played it off as nothing with my closest friends, giving them no way in, so they couldn’t tell me the truth.) When faced with these responses, I concluded my discomfort was due to my own issues, and had nothing to do with him and his disrespectful behavior.
I ignored my intuition, instead calling it insecurity.
But Good Man doesn’t makes me feel uncomfortable. Whether we are alone or with friends in private, in public, or in a public-turned-private space, I feel like he only has eyes—and a heart—for me.