I have been here a lot recently. I tried to be as honest as I could. I vented my feelings and encountered so many kind words. I am surprised by how little I need to feel good. This divorce taught me a lot—more than pain. I questioned God's will often. If life is about suffering, why do I need to get up tomorrow? Why should I even have children? Just to drag another soul into the world to suffer? I feel cruel. I cannot convince myself fully yet, but I will share the answer I half-heartedly believe here: I am here to stop my generational curse. I am not here to fix anyone. I am here to stop my own bleeding, so I can show others, especially my child, how to stop bleeding.

Speaking of that, I was raised in an abusive family. My mom and dad abandoned me when I was three months old; my grandma abused me in every possible way. I learned from the beginning of my life that I needed to earn love. My existence was a burden to others. I apologized for everything. I drained myself to perform perfection. I was the stereotypical "China boy." My wound was already there before my narcissistic wife came into my life. She merely reflected where the wounds were, where healing was needed. Healing from two narcissistic abuse relationships taught me invaluable lessons: parent myself. I never had unconditional love. I have to be the parent I never had.

The first step is to teach myself that all of my emotions are good, natural, and necessary. It sounds silly, but it is very important. I was beaten as a young child for wanting to play, then beaten for being angry, then beaten for being sad. After that, I tried to hide from my grandma, and, as you know, I got beaten again for being distant. To rewire this loop, I need to teach myself that all of my emotions are good. Anger, sadness, withdrawal—they are my friends. These "negative emotions" are trying to protect me instead of harming me. It is not easy to do so, but I am getting better.

For example, I posted my thoughts this morning. All of the comments were nice and encouraging, but one person posted, "You have issues and blah blah blah." I was angry. After my long and heartfelt confession about my "Chinese shame," those were the words he chose to say. My initial reaction was to give him a thumbs-up. I thought I needed to be the "big man" and thank him for his criticism. But my second thought was, why do I need to swallow my pain and let him step on it? I reported him, cursed him, and called him what he deserved. That felt good. It is natural for many of you, but it caused my heart to race for a long time. It was a good lesson. If I hadn’t done that, I would not have had the courage to keep writing here, because I would feel powerless to protect the vulnerable side of myself. A small victory, but an important one.

My early life survival behavior was reinforced by my narcissistic wife. She danced on my pain and suffering. I walked on eggshells around her for 13 years. Now I understand: God used her to teach me how to draw boundaries. Do not harm others, but when I get bullied, I can use anger to protect myself. God judges me when I am selfish and use anger to harm others, but He smiles when I use anger to protect myself. That feels really good.

Second lesson: I cried. I cried a lot in the past two months. "Big men don’t cry." No, big men cry their eyes out when they are sad. I grieved for my lost years, for all of the pain, the betrayal, the manipulation I endured. I wished my ex-wife death, just as I wished my grandma death. The hatred is real; it cuts to the bone. I hate the New Zealand law system that allows her to go unpunished for any of her wrongdoings. I cried, I raged. I wrote songs to curse, to cry; I cried until my throat hurt. I feel like a real man. I do not need to pretend to be tough.

Thirdly, perhaps this is the most important lesson: directing anger toward a narcissistic person does not work. It did not hurt her at all, not even a scratch. Here’s the deal: if anger and blame could cause pain to the other person, it would mean they still have a heart. If I say, "Look at the damage you did to me," and she feels regret and hurt, she might apologize—then she is not a narcissist. She would just be a normal human who did some nasty things. It was bad, but still understandable. But not her, nor my grandma, nor my dad. They do not feel shame or regret the way normal people do. Their mirror neurons are broken. The only way to defeat her is to make her feel irrelevant.

Right now, we still have to live under the same roof. It requires tremendous strength not to be manipulated by her. It is not simply detachment or a "cold war," because if I don’t give any reactions or purposely avoid talking to her, she knows I am ignoring her, and she still feels powerful. I have to genuinely want to walk out of her life without demanding anything—not an apology for cheating on me with eight men nor for stealing a third of the family money. I control my voice and actions when I am burning with anger and give her nothing but "OK," "goodbye," or, after her long blaming messages, a "message received." I watch TV, I play with my daughter with laughter, but with her—nothing. I force her to face her ugly self. I refuse to be her emotional punching bag. Even though she is pretending, I can feel that she is collapsing inside.

Now I understand God’s command a little better. When facing true evil, don’t be angry at her; master self-control and showcase your peace. It is not that anger is wrong; it’s that anger does not work for an evil person. Such a person invites confrontation. Chaos makes her feel relevant; she knows she is still at your emotional center, still important. She is like a shark—both fear and anger are her food.

For anyone who has read this far, please do not stop believing; do not give up hope. You are the hero in the movie. You knew from the beginning that you would go through trials. Pain and suffering will dominate most of the movie, but their role is to highlight how brave and marvelous the hero—you—are. At least, that is how I taught myself. I am the superhero; I eat bullets for breakfast. What I did in darkness is beyond anyone’s imagination. However painful it is, that is God’s training ground. After I finish, I will rise and shine.