S1:E20: Reclaiming the Cambodian Legacy
On a trip to cambodia, i reconnected with my cambodian heritage.
Transcript
Intro:
Welcome to Mental Breakthrough, a memoir podcast about owning our most vulnerable stories so we can live a life of authenticity.
I’m Maryann Samreth, the woman behind the pen name, Sincerely Miss Mary. Together, I take you through my healing journey as I share stories of moving through pain to get to the other side where the light shines again.
In this season, I carry you moment to moment, starting with a tumultuous breakup, then multiple breakdowns, and eventually a breakthrough.
I share stories of how my gift of writing guided me through the darkest moments of my life, leading me to reconnect with my Cambodian ancestors and break the cycle of generational trauma.
There is power in storytelling and sharing our vulnerabilities with the world. It opens doors to cultivate deeper connections with others on the same journey so we can heal as a collective.
By sharing my truths, I pave the way for others to feel safe sharing theirs. We all have a story to tell. Stories that can be someone’s silver lining. Stories of hope.
Episode Intro:
In this episode, I talk about my trip to Cambodia in January 2020 where I reclaimed the Cambodian Legacy. For so long, I shamed my Cambodian culture to heavily assimilate to America, but after my tumultuous breakup that ignited my healing journey, I began to unravel the history of my family and learn about the story of their escape from the Khmer Rouge regime.
In this episode, I talk about my trip to Cambodia in January 2020 where I reclaimed the Cambodian Legacy. For so long, I shamed my Cambodian culture to heavily assimilate to America, but after my tumultuous breakup that ignited my healing journey, I began to unravel the history of my family and learn about the story of their escape from the Khmer Rouge regime.
Episode 20
At 6 six years old, I wanted to be a white girl.
At 18 years old, my Cambodian culture began to fade, as I entered university and tried to prove my worth by heavily assimilating towards American white culture.
At 29 years old, I escaped an abusive relationship and began my healing journey of breaking generational trauma.
At 30 years old, on a trip to Cambodia in January 2020, pre-pandemic, I reclaimed the Cambodian legacy.
Over a year ago, I was sitting on a beautiful beach on the island of Koh Rong Sanloem, Cambodia. I was on a family trip with my mom, uncle, sister, and her husband.
This was an important trip for our family, especially my mom. We would be visiting her hometown of Battambang and the Killing Fields, where she spent four years of her life during the genocide, where nearly two million civilians were murdered. It was on this trip where I uncovered the untold stories of my family’s, it was the first time I truly cared about what happened and asked the questions that took me 30 years to ask...I shamed myself for taking so long but honestly...better late than never...What led me to travel to Cambodia with my family was the months leading up to it.
Before this trip, I began to psychoanalyze my healing journey and the root of my attraction to a psychopath (if you’re just listening now, you can catch up on this story in episode 1 about my narcissistic ex)
While in therapy, I learned the “whys” of my repeated attraction to narcissistic partners. My ex was the third partner I’ve had who was emotionally abusive.
I woke up to my pattern, and I needed answers as to why I was doing this over and over again.
I traveled down the rabbit hole to my childhood and upbringing to learn about my traits of codependency and people-pleasing….It all goes back to attachment styles developed as a child with your caregivers.
Having parents who escaped genocide in the late 1970s, without mental health treatment for PTSD or Complex-PTSD, means that they were parenting from untreated trauma responses.
PTSD was not in the DSM-5 until after the Vietnam war...which means many first and second-generation Cambodian Diaspora have had the same experiences I’ve had...a childhood where our needs weren’t met.
Blame, shame, and anger are valid when we do the work to recognize this...but what comes after is to grieve the nourishment we didn’t receive as children.
Grieving our past is part of the healing journey to validate our experiences so we can reach a place of acceptance, compassion, and ultimately forgiveness towards a wounded culture.
Abuse, negligence, lack of boundaries, people-pleasing, and suppressing emotions are inherent in those who were raised by families with unprocessed trauma.
These are facts backed by psychology, neuroscience, and ancestral studies.
Almost every Cambodian American I have connected with in the past year has had a tumultuous childhood.
It’s important for me to shed light on this now and provide you with the tools and resources to heal as I tell my story...most importantly I share my stories so you don’t feel alone.
Complacency, silence, and complicity for these unhealthy coping mechanisms of unprocessed trauma are passed down from one generation to the next until one person says no more.
A cycle breaker is what they call it.
That’s me...and if you’re listening, this is probably you as well.
On this trip to Cambodia, I asked my mother to tell me everything and realized my natural ability to write was not a coincidence, but a gift passed down from members of my family who died during the Khmer Rouge Regime. I savor these memories of this trip of hearing my mom tell stories of escaping the genocide in the very place she once called home.
On this island, I learned my great-uncle Nou Hach was a famous writer and a diplomat of Indonesia and Vietnam and was even a representative of the United Nations. He published many novels and various poems in french literary magazines. He was an advocate and an influential public figure.
He was one of the first to be murdered in the family because of his well-known intellect.
My aunt, my mom’s oldest sister, was an incredible storyteller, and had she been alive today, we could have listened to her tales.
My Grandpa, Chomm Khuon, was a community builder in Battambang. He built the first university in Cambodia and sponsored many schools. He worked for corporate Pepsi and was able to travel around the world...one of his favorite places was America, the land of dreamers and possibilities.
When he got the news of the Pol Pot regime, he was in America at the time and made the fateful decision to go back to Cambodia to rescue his family, knowing he would risk getting captured and murdered...which did happen. He didn’t fear death or the judgment and criticism for going back to Cambodia. He was fearless.
He did reunite with my family in Cambodia. It is a beautiful story I will retell someday. However, he, unfortunately, passed away soon after they fully immigrated to America. He was only 58. I never got to meet my grandpa but since I was a little girl, I always felt his presence in my life, I knew he was always looking over me and protecting me from a voiceless life.
My great-uncle, the advocate.
My aunt, the storyteller.
My grandpa, the fearless community builder.
It’s not a coincidence I uphold all of these gifts through my writing, mental health advocacy, and public speaking.
They were passed down to me to carry on their legacy...to reclaim the Cambodian legacy.
Learning all of these stories about my family, in Cambodia was a mixed bag of emotions, I was excited but also at this time I had not told my family about my writing, NYC open mic poetry performances, or the creation of my pen name, Sincerely Miss Mary.
I wasn’t ready to tell anyone about my work and my recent revelations...Instead, I wrote a letter to my mother and published it on my Medium page.
Dear Mom,
As we sit on the beach along this beautiful coast of Kaoh Rong Sanloem, Cambodia.
You begin your journey of healing by telling me the story of how you escaped the horrific genocide of Cambodia in 1975.
You tell me your story and I feel your every pain pass through my body.
I feel your pain as you tell me your regretful decision to stay in the country instead of leaving and within 12 hours knew it was a mistake.
I feel your pain when you tell me you laid in the trenches as gunshots flew over your head and you then made your final wishes.
I feel your pain as you tell me our uncle was separated from the family and was left by himself to hold your oldest sister’s hand while she slowly died from starvation.
I feel your pain as you tell me your dad, who was in America when this horror movie came to life, without questioning life or death, went back to the Killing Fields, to find you and the rest of our family.
They say you have to feel it to heal it.
As we sit here back in your beautiful country I sit with you in your pain and your trauma as you tell your story.
As your voice shakes.
As your body quivers.
I sit with you as decades of repressed trauma and suffering rises to the surface.
Today is your Birthday and I make a promise to you that I will tell your story to the world. The story of our family.
The story of how resiliency, bravery, and the unwillingness to die is what kept you and our family alive.
You are the reason I am here today.
As I sit here with you under the Cambodian Sun I feel every strength, hope, and bravery you passed onto me.
I am with no doubt my mother’s daughter and I promise you I will tell your story.
Sincerely,
Your daughter-
Maryann
As much as I don’t see eye to eye with my mother, I do stand by what I said, I am my mother’s daughter...and I’m proud to say that…
After our trip to the island off of Cambodia, we traveled to Battambang next, where my mother and her family grew up.
We walked through her town, visited where her house used to be, and to see if my grandmother’s favorite tamarind tree was still here.
To our surprise, it was still standing...after all of those lost years..the tree was still there..representing my family’s resiliency.
My mother toured us around her elementary school where she told me she double-timed in her studies by going to French school and Cambodian school at the same time while also working her father’s fruit stand business.
She told me stories of how Grandpa raised her to be self-sufficient. At 8 years old she learned how to shoot a gun and teach herself how to swim in the Sangker River.
I was so shocked to hear her achieve so many things as a child.
Immediately it hit me that her high functioning overachieving behavior was passed onto me as I thought back to my summer after my sophomore year of college balancing 2 fashion internships and a part-time retail job.
Like mother, like daughter.
I loved hearing her tell stories about Grandpa.
He originally came from a family of farmers and even spent a few years at a Buddhist monastery, eventually, he worked his way towards a position at Pepsi where he was able to travel the world.
When he came back to Cambodia, he gave back to the community by building schools and founding one of the first universities in Battambang.
He believed in giving back to his community and providing everyone with access to education. If there’s one person I would wish to meet, it would be him, because I know that a lot of his values live inside of me.
Our next trip in Cambodia was to the artistic town Siem Reap, but on the way there we decided to make a quick drive through the Killing Fields...where my mother, grandma, and two aunts spent 4 years of their lives.
I remember my mother telling me, the day she decided she was going to escape the killing field was when my grandma said to her they would spend the rest of their lives there...and my badass mother...said hell no… we’re leaving…
On the day they decided to escape the killing fields...they were met at a fork in the road...turn right was to go back to Battambang, back to certainty...turn left...was to Thailand where they would be free but risk their lives escaping...On that day...they turned left...and escaped to Thailand where they were reunited with my Grandpa and then were able to come to America to reunite with my Uncle.
A beautiful story I will write someday.
As we drove through the Killing Field, I felt my entire body begin to shake, I looked around at everyone else in our car and everyone was normal...it was just me shaking...I started at my mother to see if she was okay being back in a place that caused her so much trauma, and she was completely unphased...cognitive dissonance was definitely taking place.
However, not for me...I felt the pain this town carried, the number of lives lost here, the disparity and hopelessness the Cambodian people carried for 4 years in containment.
My body would not stop trembling until we got to the fork in the road...and turned left towards Siem Reap. This experience was very haunting for me and I will never forget the energy I felt in my body.
The last part of the trip was to Siem Reap, one of my favorite cities in Cambodia...where the infamous Angkor Wat is.
This city is rich in history and art. On one of the last days of the trip, I booked a photoshoot tour with a local Cambodian photographer. He toured me around local areas of the city and one of my favorite parts was the art center of Siem Reap.
At the art center, Cambodian local artists create free workshops for everyone. From writing to photography, to painting.
Everyone comes together to learn and create. Art is what fosters healing and community in a country still healing from horrors of the past. Art is what allows Cambodians to move forward. Creativity is a huge part of Cambodian culture and it runs in our blood passed down by our ancestors...we just have to be brave enough to awaken the gifts inside us.
My trip to Cambodia was about reclaiming my legacy. Where I discovered my gift of writing, storytelling, and community building came from family members who were unable to see their dreams through.
I am here to carry these gifts they gave me and share them with the world.
To be the voice of my ancestors because they’re forever a part of me.
Looking back on moments in my life when I endured prolonged trauma and abuse, I now know I was never alone.
I was never alone when my ex-boyfriend broke up with me after I publicly condemned his best friend for sexually assaulting me.
I was never alone when his friends and family rejected me and chose the side of my perpetrator.
I was never alone when my ex stalked me at the half-marathon.
Life coach, Stephanie Venditto, and a dear friend of mine told me one day: in the darkness, we find our gifts.
These words have never been so true in my life as I continue to connect how my ancestors paved the way for me to walk this path of courage and vulnerability. They gave me these gifts in my darkest hour to help me survive my shadows. These gifts were my light to make it through.
It was in the darkness they gave me the gift of writing and reclaiming the narrative.
It was in the darkness they taught me how to tell stories and have the courage to get on stage and perform them.
It was in the darkness where they gave me the strength to share my truths, to be my most authentic self, and lead a life of self-expression.
A world that was taken from them too soon now lives inside of me.
To my ancestors, please know that after so many hard years of navigating life without an inner compass, I now realize you all were always there. I finally see you, hear you, and feel you. Thank you for getting me this far, and I pray now I know you are here, you’ll give me an ever-lasting abundance of hope, gratitude, and enoughness.
I want more for myself.
I want more for my family.
I want more for all of you.
Outro:
Thank you for listening to this episode. If you’re AAPI reclaiming your Asian legacy, please honor yourself and the work you’re doing of healing. It matters.
If you liked this episode please follow me on Apple Podcasts or Spotify and leave me a review.
You can also follow me on IG and TikTok at Sincerely Miss Mary.
I will talk to you all next week!
