Last night was my first night sharing a room with a roommate. I’ve had “housemates” before, but I’ve never had roommates. (The only person I’ve ever shared a room with is my brother when we were kids. The other times I’ve shared a room with other girls were during sleepovers or temporary arrangements.)

Even before I decided to move to Tokyo, Esther highly encouraged me to stay in a share house (i.e. a living arrangement where church community members/AASM students reside together), rather than find my own accommodation elsewhere.

“I really need my own space though,” I told her. “For work reasons, like recording and filming videos.”

“I understand, and we will try to keep that in mind,” she assured me, “But there are a lot of girls this year. And if you get your own place, that will diminish your ability to experience the community of a share house. For example, we encourage all of our share houses to have weekly dinners together, to prioritize connection and accountability with one another. In a share house, you will experience a lot of challenges and growth, and I’d love that for you.”

So here we are.

And just as Esther predicted, last night I encountered my first challenge of living in a share house.

I had gone to bed around 11:30pm. My roommate was still in the kitchen, probably chatting with another girl, so I thought I’d keep the lights on for her so it wouldn’t be too dark for her navigate when she came back.

I put on my eye mask and tried to sleep.

But I couldn’t fall asleep. The bright lights peaked through the corners of my eye mask, and I kept anticipating her return. Two hours passed like this. I thought, What if she decided to sleepover in another girl’s room? What if I’m keeping the lights on for no reason? What if she doesn’t come back the entire night? Finally I got up and went downstairs to the kitchen. There she was chatting with another girl at 1:30am. I tapped on the glass door to their surprise and greeted them groggily. “Hi, sorry, I was just wondering when you were going to bed? I’ve been keeping the lights on for you.”

“Oh, sorry!” She said. “Were you trying to sleep with the lights on? You can turn off the lights.”

“No worries, I had my eye mask on,” I assured her. “Then if it’s okay with you, I will turn off the lights.”

Back in my bed (which is a mattress on the floor), I prayed, “Thanks for the lesson, Lord.” Communication is key. There’s no need to suffer out of ‘good intentions’ that may very well go unappreciated and leave you feeling more bitter than when you started. Setting healthy boundaries is vital to maintaining mutual respect.

And self-respect, for that matter.

It’s as simple as not assuming my roommate wants me to keep the lights on for her and having the guts to ask her, rather than assuming negative intentions and imagining different scenarios (Like Riley in “Inside Out 2” the night before the final game of hockey camp, when Anxiety kept imagining all the possible negative scenarios that could play out the next day).

Is this how mothers feel waiting for their children to come home? Like trying to fall asleep in a room with all the lights turned on.

Some may think, “What’s the big deal? Just turn off the lights. Who cares if she comes back to a dark room?” At the end of the day, it’s not about the lights. There are things all of us do because we think they’re the right thing to do, and we assume others agree—only to find out the hard way that we’re wrong. And it’s often these little things that, if left unchecked, build up over time and create a mountain of bitterness.

Tyranny is built on little lies. The moment we stop telling the truth, we betray ourselves and contribute to the greater suffering of mankind. As Rule #8 from Jordan Peterson’s 12 Rules of Life goes, “Tell the truth, or at least don’t lie.” And yes, that applies to little things like turning the lights on or off.

“What does turning the lights on or off have to do with truth,” you ask? Admittedly there is no right or wrong in this case, just the “truth” that I kept the lights on because I assumed she would appreciate it. That was wrong of me.

The “lie” in this case would be if I pretended I didn’t care about being appreciated.

The truth is maybe I was looking for some validation; I wanted to feel like a ‘good person.’ See, what a good roommate I am? I sacrifice my own good sleep so that my roommate will have a bright room to enter in.

Another “lie” would be if I convinced myself that my roommate had malicious intents. She just doesn’t care about me. Why doesn’t she consider my sleeping schedule? She wants me to have horrible sleep.

The truth is she could very well have assumed that I would prioritize myself, turn off the lights and go to sleep, irregardless of when she did. Perhaps she’s not used to others keeping the lights on for her.

Each of us are motivated by different narratives. The stories we tell ourselves influence the way we conduct our lives and experience the world around us. As Pastor Dan Farrelly said to us during BSSM First Year orientation, “We all have different books. What’s in your book may be completely different from what’s in their book. We have to recognize and accept that.”

So I guess this is what Esther meant when she said I will experience a lot of challenges and growth in a share house—specifically, the process of recognizing what is written in my “book” (Very often we don’t even realize the beliefs and assumptions that have been subconsciously hardwired into us, due to all sorts of reasons like family, culture, trauma, etc.), realizing that no two books are written the same, and learning and appreciating the differences.

As I write this, I realize it sounds like I’m describing a marriage.

When two people get married, then begins the process of “melding” two completely different lives together. But first you discover, very quickly, just how different you both are—the way you were brought up and taught, the things you assumed to be true or should be done a certain way.

“Why?”

“Just because.”

You never questioned it, so why should they? And why do they do their laundry this way? Or wash the dishes that way? Why do they talk like that or chew like that or react that way? Why do they always avoid conflict, or why do they always try to pick a fight?

The list is endless.

Does the “melding” ever fully happen?

When I look at my parents, who have been married now for over 35 years, I see two completely different individuals. Dad still very much loves the spotlight; he’s bold and passionate and naturally speaks at five decibels louder than the average person. Dad loves a good competition; Mom, on the other hand, would rather take a nap. She prioritizes peace over winning an argument and would gladly lend a listening ear, whereas Dad checks out the moment he realizes he’s no longer the center of a conversation.

But they’ve learned to accept one another’s differences, even to admire and celebrate them. When Mom forgets her water bottle (again), Dad says, “It’s my fault, because I didn’t remind you to check your belongings.” They know each other so well that they also know how to cover each others’ weaknesses.

And maybe that’s what it really means to become one. It’s not about becoming the same but becoming a whole new creation together. More mature and well-rounded, making up for what the other lacks, and enhancing who we already are. Perhaps marriage really is greater than the sum of its parts.

The same goes with a share house. I’m not just renting a bed and existing in the same space as other people. I’m being part of a community, and isn’t that why I decided to move to Tokyo in the first place?

Now despite having said all this, I am still praying I get my own room, which might happen before the end of the month, if the process for buying a new share house goes smoothly. Because while I look forward to many more “life lessons from living with roommates,” I also can’t forget the other reason why I decided to move to Tokyo. And that is to take my music to the next level.

I’ve already set my mind to write more songs this year.

The goal is quantity over quality. Rather than concern myself with the music production side of things, which I begrudge, and releasing albums that I don’t know how to promote, I want to write again. Writing as many new songs as I can. Before Mom flew back to Taiwan two days ago, she challenged me, “Write a new song every week inspired by Sunday’s sermon.”

“Yeah, okay,” I replied. I love a good challenge.

However, writing songs (and recording demos) requires space and silence. Both of which are in short supply when you share a room with someone else.

Any songwriters with roommates out there who can give a girl some advice?

昨晚是我第一次與室友共用一個房間。

我以前有過「室友」，但從未真正和別人共住一室。（我唯一曾和別人共住，是小時候與我弟弟。其他時候，我與其他女生共住的經歷，都是在睡衣派對，或臨時安排。）

即使在我決定搬到東京之前，Esther就強烈建議我住在合租屋中（即是教會社區成員/AASM學生共同居住的安排），而不是自己找住處。

「我真的需要自己的空間，」我告訴她。「像錄音和拍攝視頻，這樣的工作原因。」

「我明白，我們會記住這點，」她向我保證，「但今年的女生很多。如果你自己找地方，那會減少你體驗合租屋社區的機會。比如，我們鼓勵所有合租屋的居民，每週共進晚餐，重視彼此的聯繫和責任。在合租屋中，你會經歷許多挑戰和成長，我希望你能體驗到這些。」

所以我們就這樣了。

正如Esther預料的，昨晚我遇到了在合租屋生活的第一個挑戰。

我在晚上11:30左右上床睡覺。我的室友還在廚房，可能在與另一個女生聊天，所以我想我應該為她留著燈光，這樣當她回來時不會太暗。

我戴上眼罩試圖入睡。但我無法入睡….

明亮的燈光從眼罩的邊緣透進來，我不斷預料她的回來。兩個小時就這樣過去了。我想，如果她決定在另一個女生的房間過夜怎麼辦？如果我沒有理由，就一直開著燈怎麼辦？如果她整夜都不回來怎麼辦？最後我起床下樓到廚房。她在那裡，時間已是凌晨1:30，她正在與另一個女生聊天。我輕拍玻璃門，讓她們感到驚訝，然後迷糊地打招呼。「嗨，對不起，我只是想知道，你什麼時候打算上床睡覺？我一直為你留著燈。」

「哦，對不起！」她說。「你是開著燈睡覺的嗎？你可以關掉燈。」

「沒關係，我戴著眼罩，」我向她保證。「那如果你不介意，我會關掉燈。」

回到我的床上（床是地板上的床墊），我禱告說，「感謝您的教訓，主。」溝通是關鍵 !

沒有必要因為「好意」而遭受痛苦，這些好意可能不被欣賞，反而讓你感到比開始時更苦澀。

設定健康的界限對於維持相互尊重至關重要 !

同樣重要的是自尊。

就像我不假設室友希望我為她保持燈光，而是有勇氣向她詢問，而不是假設她有負面意圖，想像各種情境（就像《腦筋急轉彎2》中，Riley在露營冰球賽的前一晚，焦慮不斷，想像第二天可能發生的所有負面情景一樣）。

這是不是母親等待孩子回家時的感覺？就像試圖在開著所有燈的房間裡入睡一樣。

有些人可能會想，「有什麼大不了的？只要關掉燈就行了。誰在乎她回到一個黑暗的房間？」但歸根結底，這不是關於燈的問題，而是因為我們想要做正確的事情，如果我們假設別人也同意——只有通過艱難的方式才能發現我們錯了。而且通常是這些小事，如果不加以檢查，可能會隨著時間積累起來，形成一座苦澀的大山。

專制是建立在小謊言之上。我們一旦停止說實話，就背叛了自己，也為人類更大痛苦，做出了貢獻。

正如喬丹·彼得森《生活的12條規則》中的規則#8所說，「說實話，或至少不要說謊。」這當然也適用於像開燈或關燈這樣的小事。

你問「開燈或關燈與真相有什麼關係？」誠然，在這種情況下沒有對錯，只有我保持開燈的「真相」，因為我以為她會感激。那是我的錯誤。

這種情況下的「謊言」會是，假裝我不在乎，不被欣賞….

事實可能是我在尋找一些認可；我想感覺像一個「好人」。看，我是一個多好的室友？我犧牲了我自己的好睡眠，讓我的室友有一個明亮的房間進入。

另一個「謊言」會是，我說服自己，我的室友有不好的意圖。她根本不關心我。為什麼她不考慮我的睡眠時間表？她希望我睡得很糟糕…..

事實是，她很可能以為我會優先考慮自己，關燈睡覺，不管她什麼時間睡覺。也許她不習慣別人為她開燈。

我們每個人都受不同的敘述驅動。我們給自己講的故事，影響了我們的生活方式，和我們對周圍世界的體驗。正如Dan Farrelly牧師，在BSSM第一年的迎新會上對我們說的，「我們都有不同的書。你的書裡的內容，可能與他們的書裡的內容完全不同。我們必須認識到，並接受這一點。」

我想這就是Esther所說的，我將在合租屋經歷很多挑戰和成長——特別是認識到我的「書」裡倒底寫了什麼（我們通常沒有意識到，由於種種原因，如家庭、文化、創傷等，已經在我們潛意識中形成的信念和假設），意識到沒有兩本書是一樣的，學習並欣賞其中的差異。

當我寫這篇文章時，我忽然意識到，這聽起來就像我在描述一段婚姻。

當兩個人結婚時，就開始了「融合」兩個完全不同的生活的過程。首先你會很快發現你們倆有多麼不同——你們的成長方式和教育，你們認為應該做的事情，或應該以某種方式做的事情。

「為什麼？」

「只是因為。」

你從未質疑過，所以為什麼要質疑？為什麼要用這種方式洗衣服？或用那種方式洗碗？為什麼要那樣說話、那樣嚼東西或那樣反應？為什麼總是要避免衝突，或為什麼總是要試圖挑起爭執？

清單無窮無盡….

「融合」是否曾完全發生？

當我看著我的父母，他們現在已經結婚37年了。我看到兩個完全不同的個體。

我爸爸仍然非常喜歡成為焦點；他大膽而充滿激情，天生的說話聲比普通人大五分貝。我爸爸喜歡一場好的競爭；而媽媽則寧願打個盹。她重視和平勝過贏得爭論，並樂於傾聽。而爸爸一旦意識到，他不再是談話的中心就會退場。

但他們已經學會接受彼此的差異，甚至欽佩並慶祝這些差異。當媽媽再次忘記她的水壺時，爸爸會說：「這是我的錯，因為我沒有提醒你檢查你的物品。」他們彼此了解得如此之深，也知道如何彌補對方的弱點。

也許這就是真正意義上，成為一體的含義。這不是變成相同的人，而是一起變成一個全新的創造。更成熟、更全面，彌補對方的不足，增強我們已經擁有的品質。

也許婚姻真的大於部分的總和。

合租屋也是如此。我不僅僅是租一個床位，在同一個空間裡與其他人存在。我是社區的一部分，這不就是我一開始決定搬到東京的原因嗎？

儘管說了這麼多，接下來的幾天，我可能仍然會租一個Airbnb。原因是周三，將有另一個女孩搬回來，我目前所在的房間對三個女生來說不夠大，包括床墊和行李。Esther鼓勵我和另一個女孩一起分享Airbnb，這是我將考慮的，至少在新的合租屋準備好，讓我搬進去之前。但即使在新的合租屋裡，也不能保證我會有自己的房間。

儘管說了這麼多，我仍在禱告我能在月底前擁有自己的房間，如果購買新合租屋的過程順利的話，這可能會實現。因為雖然我期待與室友一起體驗更多的「生命課程」，我也不能忘記，我決定搬到東京的另一個原因。那就是將我的音樂，提升到一個新的水平。

我已經下定決心，今年要寫更多的歌。

首先的目標是，數量大於質量。

我不想關心音樂製作方面的事情…..也不知道如何推廣…..

我只想再次寫作！盡可能的多寫新歌！

在媽媽兩天前回台灣之前，她挑戰我，「每週根據星期天的講道寫一首新歌。」

「好的，沒問題，」我回答。我喜歡一個好的挑戰！

然而，寫歌和錄製，都需要空間和安靜。

當你與別人共享一個房間時，這兩者都不可能…..

有沒有任何有同樣經驗的人，或許可以給我一些建議？