Preface

March, April, and May represent a triad of months during which I stood at the crossroads of life, grappling with struggle, exhaustion, and defiance. Initially, I tackled the challenge of defining my Master’s thesis topic. From January through March, I dedicated myself solely to this task, crafting three versions of research directions and ideas. Ultimately, a compromise was reached, melding my supervisor’s areas of expertise, my own research interests, and project funding into a viable proposal. Following the torturous decision-making process about the general direction of my research, translating these concepts into a concrete research plan proved to be another Herculean task. This research endeavor marks the closest I’ve come to independently executing a practical study. In my previous academic and research experiences, I either drafted mere outlines without considering their feasibility or worked in teams where the costs and risks of inconsequential results were mitigated, much like a hunter in a controlled game reserve achieving predictable grand slams.

Thus, in this first foray where I alone had to start from scratch—predicting the behavior of the prey, devising hunting plans, setting traps, and bracing for unexpected situations—the emotions of excitement and fear coexisted. Moreover, considering the grim job market and the difficulties of applying for PhD programs in the larger context, a cascade of crises and uncertainties ensued. I spent considerable time pondering and addressing these young adult life crises, and recently, I believe I have come to some comprehensive answers. Hence, I wanted to document my current state of mind. Because the timeline from the onset of a crisis, to becoming aware of its existence, and then contemplating personal responses is indeterminate, even if I possess numerous fragmented insights, I cannot willingly present them. They remain just pieces, unable to be threaded by coherent logic to explain the underlying connections. Therefore, I believe that only after completing a thorough self-analysis and recording it in black and white, complete with a timestamp, can I truly honor the pain, joy, understanding, and confusion I’ve experienced since opening myself up to these perceptions. So sometimes, even with the urge to express these fragments, I choose to record and digest them first. After a period of reflection, I then present them. This respects both the time of my life and the valuable experiences it has afforded, as well as the reader’s.

Fear of failure and conflict

So, I would like to begin with perfectionism. It’s a complex feeling. During a casual conversation with my mentor, she lightly mentioned that she sees a bit of perfectionism in me. Specifically, this manifests when I conduct literature reviews; I have a habit of including conflicting viewpoints on a subject or definition, yet I find it difficult to take a stand. For researchers, this is an essential lesson—how to infuse one’s soul into their research, rather than merely discussing predecessors’ views. I find this observation from someone else about my attitude towards conflicting matters, or towards things that don’t yet have a clear answer, quite intriguing. I’ve always felt that choosing one’s stance requires courage, because adopting a certain viewpoint gives others something tangible to critique. When one is floating in the air, it’s hard to be pulled down for insufficient explanations as they can easily find a favorable position to rearticulate their stance. But once grounded, it means we stand on stable soil, ready to defend our choices. Choosing also means being accountable for future critiques of the view, either by responding ingeniously, turning skepticism into indirect proof of one’s point, or by acknowledging flaws and jointly seeking a more inclusive theoretical framework. This reminds me of my undergraduate courses in social psychology and personality psychology, specifically the critiques of the Big Five personality traits. At that time, it seemed inappropriate to summarize a person using only five traits, omitting many unique personal behaviors. Even though the later HEXACO model added a dimension of honesty-humility, it still fell short of encapsulating a person fully. I gradually understood that in any discipline’s scientific advancement, we start with constructive but flawed models, which are refined over time by successors. Nothing is perfect from the start, and even in the social sciences, a so-called perfect model or theory achieving 70% explanatory and predictive power is considered quite good; the rest is life’s unpredictability, also known as surprises. Moreover, the ultimate goal of any personality-related research is not to create a unique model for every individual on Earth to predict and explain behaviors, because life is also divided into public and private realms. We can never fully share our most intimate thoughts with others, and it’s hard to be absolutely honest with ourselves; we might even struggle to confront our scars until they are healed. Therefore, predictions about personality and behavioral tendencies are based on public life, within groups and interpersonal interactions, grounded in specific contextual soils and corresponding to societal norms. So looking back, the initial criticism that theoretical disciplines might face and my own reservations about taking sides in research reflect a dilemma: whether one seeks an unchallenged existence aloof from the ground or a progressively perfected “flawed” truth.

Next, I would like to discuss a term I often hear these days: “people-pleasing personality.” In my view, this concept bears some similarities to perfectionism, which is why I want to discuss them together. If perfectionism is about not allowing oneself or others to make mistakes, or making mistakes in specific social situations (which corresponds to the three subtypes of perfectionism: self-oriented, other-oriented, and socially prescribed), then a people-pleasing personality is about excessively seeking approval from others to avoid conflict, at the expense of suppressing and sacrificing one’s own needs and desires. Our education from childhood to adulthood mostly treats failure and conflict negatively. From an evolutionary standpoint, this is normal because vulnerabilities can often be more fatal than strengths; a small mistake could lead to injury or death. However, as human culture has evolved and we have moved away from harsh survival conditions to a life with relatively abundant resources, our goals have shifted from mere survival to higher pursuits. Some weaknesses are not fatal, and the definition of strengths and weaknesses has become more flexible. For example, in mating strategies, long-term and short-term intentions can directly affect one’s preferences for a partner’s appearance, status, education, and wealth. Sometimes, a high level of education can also be a disadvantage, because knowing too much prevents self-deception. Returning to the point, personality exists within a context, and it is a product of that context. Consider, why is it sometimes A who pleases B, and not the other way around? Besides individual personality tendencies, another significant factor is the power structure within the environment. If we imagine any interaction as a tug-of-war on a balance of power, the scale is often tipped. Imagine the traditional family role of the father, often portrayed as stern and authoritative, and the mother as emotional and anxious. This is because power is defined as holding resources that can determine the outcomes for others, thus the one with less power tends to please the one with more. Those with less power need to appease, charm, or predict the preferences of those above them, who do not need to decipher much about the emotions of the less powerful and are less likely to be influenced by them. Therefore, when positioned as a people-pleaser, doubly exploited both physically and emotionally, one should consider why it is oneself who always worries about the worries of the world, and not the other. Emotional responses are sometimes not a personal trait but a manifestation of the tension in a situation finding an outlet through an individual. Whether one becomes that outlet depends on whether they are the weakest, the kindest, or habitually exploited without being aware of it.

However, if someone says, “I don’t feel there is any power inequality in my interactions with others; I am simply someone who dislikes conflict. I find that causing conflicts is troublesome, energy-draining, and unnecessary.” If the perspective of power oversimplifies the scenario, or only explains parts of situations where there is power inequality, then why does people-pleasing still exist in scenarios where power is balanced? We can start by looking at the psychological definition of a people-pleasing personality. In fact, there isn’t a direct translation in professional terminology; it is not a simple trait. All people-pleasers have different motivations and cannot be captured by a single dimension. However, there are two related phenotypes: one is the dependent personality (people with dependent personality disorder excessively need to be taken care of, usually exhibiting clingy behaviors or fear of separation. They have a strong doubt about their own abilities and skills, fostering a sense of helplessness.) The other is the self-sacrificing personality (sacrificing personal interests for the happiness of others. You refuse to satisfy some of your own needs and personal desires, suppress your emotions, or ignore your feelings, which means you are giving up a very important part of yourself. You value others over yourself.) It is interesting because, although these two phenotypes exhibit different behaviors, they are essentially highly related to low self-esteem and a predisposition to avoid interpersonal conflicts.

The value of ‘self’

Self-esteem is an individual’s evaluation of their own worth, which is also greatly influenced by societal judgments. If a person values societal approval and belonging more than staying true to themselves, their self-esteem is more likely to be impacted. Here, I do not wish to discuss the subjective hierarchy of whether belonging to society or oneself is more important, as the social nature of humans is universal; no one is absolutely independent, and we all crave acceptance and recognition. Being true to oneself or to society is a matter of degree, not a binary, and it is also constantly changing. What I want to discuss here is a sort of absolute value, because humans cannot lie to themselves. In fact, when we evaluate ourselves, we indeed need to see concrete achievements, like thinking of oneself as a kind person after helping others, or realizing that one’s happiness and worth are contingent upon situations that involve aiding others. No one can create value or ascertain their own worth by sitting idle behind closed doors. However, the ways in which value is created are ranked in today’s societal values; not all are considered equal, which is a natural occurrence. When a society relies on a particular industry, positions related to that industry may be valued highly. Yet, this does not mean that roles not directly related to the industry’s main dimensions are unworthy of respect. Therefore, creating your own value is crucial, no matter the time or place, and respect for oneself should precede whether others choose to respect you or not. Some might ask, “What if I feel unworthy of respect, or think I have no value, and feel helpless and in pain?” Long ago, some might have suggested turning off self-awareness and becoming an unfeeling robot to avoid pain. But as times have changed, we’ve shifted from pursuing material conditions to spiritual aspirations, a becoming and irreversible process. If turning off self-awareness is not an option, how can one try to practice self-love and respect? It involves disregarding societal definitions of value and first finding a small thing that excites you and makes you feel valuable. It could be something deemed meaningless by society, but ‘meaningless’ is a label society assigns, not you; you can add your own definition.

During a conversation with a close Slovenian friend, I learned that after her courses ended, she tried volunteering in multiple refugee camps. Initially, I was shocked she chose volunteering over focusing on job hunting or her thesis, considering it a waste of time. However, she said that on the bus ride home after volunteering, her heart would race with joy, and she felt more alive than ever before. Before volunteering, she felt confused about her future, but that confusion disappeared once she started. While it may not be a fixed life goal, at least it gave her a tangible sense of living. I believe this is a positive feedback from an attempt to explore her self-worth. Knowing for whom and why your heart beats is a profound happiness because it brings you closer to truly living, gaining life experiences through your efforts, providing a continuous source for self-esteem, thereby strengthening and growing your inner core.

Strengthen your core

Self-esteem should ideally be derived from one’s work. Why do I say “should”? Because in real life, many people do not gain this self-respect, recognition of their own value, acceptance and respect for their actions, or confidence in their ability to achieve goals from the work that occupies most of their day. Why don’t they? Because they might not like any of the limited options available, yet they are forced to make a choice. If the initial choice is not made willingly or is perceived negatively, the feelings throughout the process are likely to be tainted by this undertone, which then reflects in the outcomes. This represents a conflict between individual free will and environmental dictates—what one wants does not match what the environment can offer. I often think that if there’s something in the spiritual realm that could be described as mental strength, it would surely be belief or will. These can be strong or weak, exhibiting great adaptability and fluidity. Here, I define personal free will as the embodiment of an individual’s core essence. In a world filled with personal, group, and societal interests, every daily event is a collision of different objectives. Before undergoing socialization, an infant’s desires are mostly met, or their free will is not contravened; a cry or an expression can change the surrounding environment and promptly meet their needs. However, as teenagers, we start interacting with other individuals in our environment, including the intangible norms present there. Everyone has their ideas and purposes, leading to the emergence of social hierarchies. The popular ones can have the say in defining what is normative, what is acceptable, and what is not, while the unpopular ones have to comply with these norms. Being popular or “cool” is itself defined by the socio-cultural environment one is in. People comply with the forces that create this environment, and a hierarchical order among different levels of society is established.

In such an ordered and structured environment, how can the strength of one’s core be enhanced? It’s a gradual process, a pact signed with time, allowing increasingly strong commitments to time to take precedence over social contracts. Humans are either seeking change or are in a state of dormancy before seeking change, and dormancy is a time of accumulating strength. When the strength of one’s core becomes powerful enough to shape worldly events according to personal will, it signifies the end of the dormant period and the beginning of vibrant life expression. Therefore, the first step is to find effective ways to enhance self-esteem, not self-deceptive ones. Each collision and interaction of goals is a contest of mental strength; the one with greater force bends the space of decision-making to their will. This marks the end of an individual’s dormant period, crossing a certain threshold of constraints to begin more freely expressing oneself.

Weak is not really weak

Lying dormant, being in a position of perceived weakness, of secondary status, or on the margins isn’t always a bad thing. First, if we cannot choose our initial conditions, we must not let this passivity restrict us; we should start by choosing to believe that this is not inherently negative. Second, this situation is essentially neutral; it’s only deemed non-mainstream because those in power have defined what ‘mainstream’ is, but that’s their definition, not ours. This is about the social context of knowledge. To illustrate, consider the argument “why men cannot be feminists.” Initially, if a person is born female, she is naturally expected to be a feminist or to fight for women’s rights and status. If there are deviations later, it could be due to a change in position, or perhaps their self-identity is not as a woman. Men cannot be feminists inherently because they are not women. In many parts of the world today, women are still considered the ‘second sex’, but we must recognize that being part of a marginalized group gives us a cognitive advantage—we can view issues from the perspective of the marginalized and, if we rise to a higher position, from the perspective of the mainstream as well. Men, not having experienced oppression based solely on gender, lack sufficient standing to understand women. Therefore, instead of desperately trying to convince men of the importance of equality, it’s more productive to strengthen our own core and develop our power so that our conviction and robust will cannot be ignored. Ultimately, we succeed in the power struggle, and things turn out as we wish, much like in childhood but with a difference: as children, our will was met because of love; as adults, it’s acknowledged due to undeniable strength. This is a long journey that requires a time commitment. Finally, I want to clarify what I mean by feminism here—it’s about equality for everyone. Thus, I’d like to extend this beyond gender to another issue: the class divide is fundamentally similar to the gender divide; it’s about an imbalance in the scales of power. There are two paths to becoming a person of high power: you are either born into it, or you climb your way up, starting perhaps from the lower class or possibly from what is referred to as the middle class.

The middle class as a fascinating illusion

The definition or concept of the middle class is a topic for economists and varies by country’s economic and political situations, as well as power structure density; hence, definitions of the middle class cannot be detached from the specifics of a country. But here, I want to discuss what the middle class means from a psychological perspective. In most studies on socio-economic status, classifications vary greatly. Some divide into high and low classes, others into ten tiers—perhaps the bottom three are low, the top two high, and the rest middle class. Social comparisons within the same class are more common because merely three categories cannot satisfy people’s fantasies about their social positions. Francis Fukuyama, in “Identity: The Demand for Dignity and the Politics of Resentment,” speaks of two innate passions or motives: the desire for acceptance/equality within a group, and the desire to surpass others. These may seem contradictory but coexist because understanding each other requires similar experiences, yet self-realization and transcendence are built upon this understanding. Thus, according to Pierre Bourdieu in “Distinction,” we begin to use cultural capital for class distinctions within the same class—whether in terms of consumption, accent, expressive ability, or taste in art, all eventually become tools to differentiate one from another. Moderate luxury and niche interests may not be enough to transcend classes but can highlight superiority within a class. Middle class status is like a checkpoint on the path to power and social standing, similar to how people need intermittent positive feedback when climbing from lower to higher statuses, requiring this shiny ‘middle-class hat’ to gain external affirmation.

The pursuit of external achievements and the quest for internal fulfillment are reflections of each other. If the core is not strong enough, protection must be sought from the power represented by external labels, because the inner will is too weak or yet unawakened to prevail against the noisy, crowded wills it contends with. Therefore, besides accepting the existing power structures and climbing to the top by their rules to speak for oneself and one’s group, there’s another way: to gradually strengthen one’s own will to gain respect and corresponding social status. Having experienced life as part of a marginalized group provides a basis for empathy, a similarity of experience, carrying all unfulfilled missions and cries to the summit under heavy burdens. At the peak, because of knowing one’s roots, one is unaffected by the usual reduction in empathy observed in higher statuses, thus gaining the ability to influence others’ fates after empathizing with them. This is the alternative path—not to persuade others, but to strive to reach the peak where everyone can hear you speak for yourself.

The perception of control – modern anxiety

Finally, I want to address contemporary anxiety: what it is, why it persists, and potential individual solutions. Anxiety may sound negative, but if we reframe it, we can understand it’s not entirely negative. It’s a matter of degree—how much control we have over things and how well we can predict the future. From an evolutionary perspective, we worry about things that haven’t happened yet; we need to know what our next meal will be or where to shelter during the rainy season. The more specifics we know, the more secure we feel. Thus, anxiety is not exclusively a sensation for those with psychological disorders; it is ubiquitous, a natural reaction concerning whether we will have sufficient capability to prevent crises in the future. Discussing time also involves space—our cultural life, social context. Humanity’s fate is tightly interconnected; in times of power reshuffling, resource competition, and worsening economic inequality, if the future is uncertain or the foreseeable future promises a lower quality of life than expected, feelings of insecurity and anxiety arise. As a society becomes more moderately prosperous, there is also a rising demand for self-awareness, leading to a clash between modern desires for self-expression and the reality of limited resources, creating a dilemma of desire versus availability. From a societal perspective, this is about the rivalry of great powers; from a personal perspective, it involves the competition for living resources and the conflict between self-expression and reality. Everyone seems in desperate need of an outlet to resolve the frustration and resignation that comes when spiritual needs and self-actualization are not fulfilled. Sometimes, people ask, “What exactly is the self, and why should I strive to achieve it?” Ask yourself, “What would be written on my tombstone? Just someone’s mother, someone’s wife? Or who am I, really?” The roles we play are dictated by societal scripts, but our self has no preset narrative. In the past, self-actualization was not encouraged; today, it is awkward because there isn’t sufficient groundwork for every soul to explore and realize its will in this lifetime. It seems we always have only binary choices: to be altruistic or selfish, to sacrifice others or ourselves, simply moving from one extreme to the other. However, the world is complex, and no motive is absolutely pure. There is a vast middle ground between two choices; there is no absolute altruism or selfishness, no absolute individual or collective. Respect for one’s existence, for one’s desires, is fundamental. Denying any entity’s existence—like denying pain—can provoke anger because denying pain is essentially denying existence. Life exists because it contains infinite vitality and possibilities, manifesting in everyone, regardless of gender, race, class, or any superficial divisions.

First, don’t deny your feelings

Regarding finding an outlet for anxiety, the simplest action is to untangle the chaotic thoughts in your mind by speaking them out loud or writing them down—this is the quickest form of self-expression. When you feel an emotion, you need to try to understand it rather than just setting it aside or suppressing it, letting it exist merely as a physiological reaction. Emotions and beliefs are intertwined, much like roses wrapping around a fence. Each person’s different experiences and social positions shape how they perceive the world around them. Consequently, people may unconsciously or consciously choose to accept information selectively, making it easy for different experiences to lead to different focal points in what they see. If there are no peers with similar experiences, no premise for understanding, then further agreement cannot be achieved. At this moment, the expression of your self in each phase of your life becomes your companion.

Expression is proof of earnest living and a true manifestation of sincerity. Do not fear imperfect expressions, because progress at any stage requires full effort. Compared to other art forms, which may require systematic training, writing—from childhood to adulthood—is the least abstract way to express yourself. If you feel something, start with yourself. Do not deny its existence; record it, express it. Also, do not lose faith in others. Our mortal nature, susceptible to death, is humanity’s greatest foundation for empathy, transcending any divisions. Persist in expressing yourself, persist in leaving a mark on a life that moves toward death. One day, there will be fellow travelers who, in this spiritual realm, will read over the words you have written time and again. They will weep for understanding, fill with confidence for agreement, and, emboldened by bravery, carry on with this spiritual strength to fulfill the impossible possibilities.

Before a mansion toppling in June

Finally, I want to return to the title, Why is “Before a Mansion Toppling in June.” Recently, a good friend from Italy invited me over for dinner at her apartment. She shares this apartment, which is neatly arranged and artistically adorned, with two other girls. Apart from the bare essentials and consumables, the decor comprises free museum posters and plants. I was quite fond of this clean and filled space, so I was surprised and saddened to learn that the apartment building was scheduled to be demolished at the end of June. Originally erected as a hastily built refugee shelter in an area that was once backward but is now rapidly developing, the government relocated the large number of refugees elsewhere, repurposing the building as student housing. However, the low rent from the student apartments could not meet the demands of rising land prices, hence the decision to demolish it, marking the end of this temporary phase. She mentioned that the other rooms might not be as well-maintained as theirs, so perhaps it was not too regrettable.

While sitting in the room, we enjoyed the Italian home-cooked meal she had prepared meticulously, which serendipitously coincided with my favorite experiences like those joyful evenings by Lake Como, and I couldn’t help but feel a deep connection with her. Knowing my love for sunsets, she worried aloud that the cloudy day might not yield a beautiful sunset, praying to her gods and then seeing her prayers answered. We sat by the window, chatting and watching as the pink on the horizon gradually expanded into vast swathes of golden orange across the glass windows of the buildings opposite the setting sun. We found another unspoken agreement in our enjoyment of judging the sunset’s beauty by its reflection, so the modern building’s sunset-reflecting windows became our outpost for observing the sunset.

We looked out at the large undeveloped green field dotted with abandoned tables and chairs, which had found a new purpose as a resting playground for the local cats. I hadn’t seen any cats resting there, but when I asked her if cats had been there, she smiled, pulled out her phone, and showed me pictures of cats that had indeed graced those chairs. I felt an understanding flowing between us, present in everything around us, a kind of joy called surprise, igniting my inner world like the sunset-stained night sky.

On the way home, I processed the photos I had taken with a double exposure, so the field of daisies under the sunset seemed to rise into the sky, the flowers like stars; the candle we talked by until late into the night now cast its pre-life shadow on the white wall, reborn there; the vibrant, blazing sunset we loved flared like fire across a portrait of Frida Kahlo on the wall, its vitality as wild and unbridled as Frida’s spirit. In my heart, the treasured friendship she offered blossomed into a tulip in Dutch soil, her heart as delicate as a tulip bulb; after the golden orange faded, I defined the remaining blue-pink sky as the color of our friendship, deep and enduring. These moments, captured by my records, remain vivid forever, even though the mansion is to topple in June.