Underneath my yellow skin

Author Archives: Minna Hong

Another piece to the neurodivergent puzzle

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I have mentioned that I have three goals for 2026. They are 1. Teach myself the Bagua Knives Form; 2. write my novemoir; and, 3. Find an Asian queer/genderqueer group, probably online, to join. In addition to those three major goals, however, I have  other smaller goals. And to break it down even more, I have things that I want to do that are percolating in the back of my mind.

Just a quick update on the big three. I have not started on the third one, and I probably need to brreak that down even further in order to get it done.  One, I’m progressing nicely on it. Well, not at the moment because I’m recovering from my Covid vax/flu shot combo that I got last Wednesday. I’m about50% recovered in less than a week, so I consider that not bad at all.

As for the first, I’m mostly meeting my goal of an hour a night, but I’ve slipped a few times. I do make it up, but I don’t want to use that as a crutch. I’m going to check in at the end of January and see if I’m ready to up it to two hours a day. I think I need to change my whole schedule so I’m not starting to write at three or four (or later) in the morning, but that’s really hard for me to do.

Back to the topic–some of the other things I’m looking to change/improve/do in my life. One is the topic of neurodivergency. A year or two ago, an online friend brought up the idea that I might be  neurodivergent–specifically autistic. It made so many pieces of the puzzle called my life suddenly fit, and it really opened my eyes to how easy it is to be overlooked when you’re not a guy. Meaning, autisim is shown as a male thing, more specifically, a white male thing. And it’s portrayed as a young white guy who is socially awkward, bumbling, unable to look people in the eyes, stimming, overly logical and rigid, and not aware of other people’s feelings at all.

Funnily enough, I recognized it in my brother several decades ago because he fit so many of the stereotypical symptoms. It wasn’t until my online friend gave me several posts about nonmale people and autism (and had me take an online test, unmasking as best as I could–which wasn’t much at all because I’ve been masking all my life) that I was able to see how it applied to me.

I just got another piece of the puzzle when I was in a work forum, and a neurodivergent person took the time to explain how they (don’t know their gender) and their ND friends understand how society views hierarchy on an intellectual level, but they don’t get it on a personal level (I’m paraphrasing).

They made a few more comments about it, and it really clicked in my brain with some of the other things I know about myself that I always viewed as weird. I never got hierarchy, either. At least not the traditional hierarchy as practiced in Western (American) society.


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Sometimes, to make an omelet, you have to kick some fucking ass

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The surrealness of the world around me continues. On many levels, yes, but, sefishly, it’s what’s happening in MN that is occupying most of my mind. Don’t get me wrong. I’m outraged about Venezuela. I’m livid about Greenland. I’m seething over the tariffs and other economic bullshit that is emanating from this administration. But it’s what happening in Minneapolis that is most pressing in my mind because it’s nearest (literally and figuratively) to me.

Even then, I’m careful about how much news I ingest every day. I used to write for a political blogh, so I would watch/read a large amount of news a day. Iwas on the abortion beat, so most of the news I read was infuriating, sad, or depressing. I had to make sure I wasn’t burning myself out, and I did that for a few years.

Once Obama was out of office, I was no longer writing for the political blog. I also wasn’t watching/reading as much news as before. I had reached my limit, and I did not want to steep myself in that world again.

I kept up with the news, of course. I made sure I knew the big stuff. I cursorily skimmed the news, and then I kept it moving.

It’s too easy to doomscroll for hours. There is so much bad news, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed, helpless, and despaired. In fact, I feel that way much of the time now. I know that’s what this administration wants, but it’s hard not to remain hopeful. There have been sliver of good news, but so few and far between.

Here’s yesterday’s post. I’m not even going to try to tie it in with this post. Why? Because I’m tired, and I just can’t be bothered. There is a connection, at least in my mind, and I’m going to leave it at that.

I’m still exhausted because of the shots (Covid and flu), but it’s not nearly as bad as it was when I got the three shots on one day. It’s on par with what I normally feel after a shot. Slightly worse, but nothing too noticeable.

I’ve been very careful with not overdoing it as I get better. One good thing about Taiji and Bagua  is that it’s not something that you’re going to lose much if you can’t do it for a day or two. Or even a month. Yes, I forgot a few postures in my month off, but I was able to teach it to myself fairly quickly again.

One of the most amazing things about my medical crisis is how I was able to pick up my practice about a week after I got out of the hospital, shaky and tired, yes, but still able to do most of it. Taiji is chill and relaxed. It’s not the same as Bagua, but I did not start practicing that until well after my medical crisis was over.


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The anger is rising

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Here’s the big issue with this current president. It’s not him in and of himself (though that is terrible, indeed), but it’s what he represents; how many people are holding him up, either for personal reasons, ideology, or just the need to unthinkingly follow someone in authority.

His presidency also lays to rest the ‘gentleman’s agreement’ that all previous presidents have silently agreed to. What do I mean by that? I mean that there aren’t many specific laws in place to prevent the president from abusing his power (and, yes, I deliberatley chose ‘his’ because that’s what we’ve had so far). For past presidents, I do believe that most of them wanted what was best for America, even if I deeply disagree with their ideology. They did not do things soleley because they wanted to do them or for personal gain.

I should note that I’m talking mostly about the presidents I have experienced in my lifetime because I can’t know what prior presidents were really like.

Anyway.

I knew this president’s second term was going to be dangerous and terrible beacuse he had nothing to lose. Again, this was with the assumption that he would not wangle a third term someohow. Oh, and here’s yesterday’s post with more musing on this subject.

I want to focus on something else for a hot sec.

I’m so angry right now, I can’ barely stand it. The only way I can really tamp it down is by becoming numb. I feel incandescent with rage, and I want to make the world burn. I want all the assholes to get what’s coming to them rather than mumbling some inane platitudes about how we have to be better than that. Me doing the mumbling, I mean.

I don’t have it in me. To be polite or compassionate or kind, I mean. I just watched a video of a right-wing influencer (ugh, I hate that word) who came to Minnesota to agitate, cause a ruckus, and probably was hoping to stir people up. I had to laugh when I saw that he had a whopping TEN people supporting him. The local news spoke to one of them, and, yep. Young white dude, wouldn’t you know it, from Minnesota, but not the Twin Cities.

The influencer claimed he was stabbed, but there was no official report of that. I did see him in a car getting kicked, and I felt a quiet vicious satisfaction inside me. I will say I know that’s what he wanted to a certain extent, and I don’t believe in giving these assholes what they want. But the incandescently angry, “I’ve had enough” burning ball of hatred in my heart? That part of me was glad.


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Taking the high road when others aren’t

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Life is still rough here in Minnesota. Very rough. So very fucking rough. The Federal DOJ opened an investigation into Gov. Walz and Mayor Frey for exceedingly bogus reasons. I’m not going to name them because my god. It doesrn’t matter at this point. None of this matters at any point. I included the video of the charges below if you want to see them with your own eyes/hear them with your own ears. One tiny bit of good news is that it was ruled by a federal judge that Minnesotans can follow ICE as long as it was from a safe distance away (ICE/feds claimed this was not allowed), but it just doesn’t seem enough.

Nothing is enough, obviously. Jen Psaki, the host of the video I included below (and warning for rough viewing, by the way), made it clear that the investigation is bullshit. She cites the numbers, and, yes, they are horrible for this persident. Some are the lowest they’ve ever been–ever!–, but they’re still at anywhere from 30% to 41%. That’s still way too many people who think everything is just hunky-dory.

This is actually part of the bigger problem–which is my fellow Americans. That’s not what this post is about, though–you know what? I ‘m going to make it about that because I can. And because it fits with the theme (sort of). The theme being taking the high or low road. I wrote at length about this fallacy (taking the high road is always a  good thing, solely on an idealogical level) in a prior post.

Quick primer: For most of my life as a Democrat, I’d watch the Democrats bleat about taking the high road. They gave in over and over again, and it was always frustrating. Why was it only the Dems who were expected to negotiate and meet in the middle? I mentioned in a prior post that I’m at the end of my rope with being compassionate and peaceful.e

Every time the Republicans won a major election, it was spun as them having the will of the people to do what they wanted. When a Democrat won, however, it was spun as the country being fractured, and the Dems had to work extra hard to make sure the Republican Americans did not feel shunned/rebuffed/out in the cold.

Many Dems felt that way, too. Or at least they mouthed the words that sounded like they agreed. Whereas the Republicans blithely ignored any semblance of extending the olive branch. Thirty yaers, I’ve listened to this. It’s always been a case of being on different teams, but there were lines that neither side would cross.

Those lines are completely erased now. As I’ve said, my friends and I have agreed that we’re not exactly surprised by what this president has done, but the surprise is how quickly and violently it’s happened. Also, in my case, it’s how efficiently it’s happening. Which makes me suspect that it’s not him.


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Checking in on *waves hand in every direction*

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I feel like shit. Physically, mentall, and emotionally. The first is easiest to explain. I got my Covid booster and my flu shot yesterday. I react very badly to shots. I knew better than to get both at the same time, but that was warring with the part of me that really resists doing anything at all. The latter is the thing that makes me overdo it when I actually muster up the energy to do anything.

My flu arm is just a bit puffy and not tender at all. The left arm is tender, sore, and puffy. It hurts if I even just brush against it, and it hurts if I lift it over above shoulder level. Plus, I’m just exhausted. More so than in general. I knew to expect this because this always happens when I get vaxes, but it does not make it easier knowing it’s going to happen beforehand.

I went light on my weapons today. I was able to do my warmups, the Taiji Solo Form, and the Bagua Swimming Dragon Form. I think I did the Double Fan Form? Maybe? Not the other ones, though. I also did the part of the Bagua Knife Form I know. I think. It’s hard to say beacuse i do a lot of the same things every day, so it blends together.

I know this is better than getting the flu or Covid, but it’s still sucky. I think this is something that people have a hard time understanding. Something can be both bad and good at the same time. These days especially, Americans really are binary. Not just when it comes to gender, but about so many things.

We especially like to label someone good and the other person bad. There has to be a villian and a hero, and we have to be team one person or the other. Nuance, never one of our strong suits, has gotten even worse in the past decade or so.

Anyway, I did not get the flu shot for many years, but after my medical crisis, I decided it’s not time to mess around. That’s why I got my pneumonia vax, too. My immune system is a mess, and I need to be really careful about what I do to it. And I’ve been faithfully getting my Covid boosters every six months (more or less). I don’t go out much, and I still wear a mask. I’ve always had a shitty immune system, and it’s only gotten worse since my medical crisis.

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Sideways to meeting my goals, part six

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I am so tired. So very tired. Not just physically, but emotionally and mentally as well. My sleep has gone to complete hell, and I don’t think it’s going to get better any time soon. It’s surreal living in a state that has been targeted by this president. I saw MS Now talking about how 50% of Americans think ICE are making things worse for the country whereas 30% think ICE is making America better. MS Now was talking about it as if it was a great thing. 50%! That’s like a twenty point swing (or something like that). Whereas I look at those numbers  and think, “What the fuck?!? Who the hell are those 30%?”

It’s a rhetorical question, though, because I know where that 30% comes from. By the way, it’s always 30%. The fucking assholes, I mean. It’s always around 30%. There’s a reason for it, but I don’t care. I can’t care any longer.

Here is my post from yesterday. And I’m going to maunder about it more.

In the Discord I’m in, when this president was declared the winner, there was a ‘this fucking guy’ who had to say his piece about how this is because the neglected white dude had been oppressed for so long. Oh, he didn’t put it that way, but that was his meaning. Not an American, by the way, I don’t think. He’s also into crypto coins and other shady bullshit.

And I want him to suffer. I want him to step on Lego every night of his life and never find a comfortable position in which to sleep. I want him to feel a fraction of the pain that my fellow Minnesotans are going through at this moment.

Here’s the thing.

My compassion is completely burned out. I am done with people talking about the high road and being the better person. Because that doesn’t make shit happen. Also, it has no benefit to the oppressed because it puts extra burden on them. Not only do you have to take the shit, you have to smile as it’s happening.

Governor Walz talked about being peaceful even through our anger. Not to give this administration what they want and the excuse to crack down even harder. I understand that, but I need them to understand that that is the same as someone being abused thinks–if I just do this, that, or the other thing, they won’t abuse me. If I just act as good as I possibly can, they won’t hit me any more. It’s my fault. I just gotta be perfect.

There is no way to avoid the abuse. Being peaceful won’t do it. Giving in won’t do it. Nothing will. I’m not saying to act up or choose violence, but I’m saying that focusing on being peaceful is a fool’s errand. Let that part go. Do what needs to be done without making preambles or excuses.


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Sideways to meeting my goals, part five

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These are dark days, my friends. Here in Minnesota, especially. I’ve lived here for all but a year of my life, and now, I am thinking of leaving. Well, to be fair, I had been thinking of it before–leaving the country, I mean. I’ve never been one to say, “This is not my country” because I’ve always been very clear that this is my country. Oh, sure, we kept it under the surface, but the hatred and bitterness was always lurking, bubbling, showing up in fits and spurts.

But. It was nothing like this. It has never been like this. This is unprecedent in my lifetime (not before it, mind, but during it). My brother called me today to let me know that ICE is going door-to-door and that I should have my passport on hand if I go outside. Two Target employees got roughed up and detained. They chased a DoorDash driver into the house of a customer (the customer screamed at the ICE in righteous anger that they had no right to go into her house. It was awesome and amazing. They eventually fled with their tails between theier legs). They are doing everything they can to terrorize my state.

Side note: I am increddibly proud of my state. Minnesota is well-known for its activism, and my fellow Minnesotans are not going to be cowed. They are out there protesting, blowing their whistles (as a way to disrupt ICE as well as notify people that ICE are in the vicinity), shielding their neighbors, and doing the Minnesotan thing.

We are going to bake you a goddamn tater tot hotdish if you want one or not. We’re going to wrap you in a comfy blanuket and give you a hot beverage to drink if you’re cold. We’re not going to say no to you, but you will know by vibes when we’re not into what you’re doing/saying/thinking. As I had to tell a non-native, if the answer to your question is not an emphatic yes, it’s a no. “I’ll have to ask my spouse” = no. “I’ll check my calendar” = no. “I’m busy” = no. “That sounds delightful! I ‘ll let you know” = no.

We’re slow to anger (as a general rule), but once we are pissed off, woe be the person who gets in our way. We may not show it in an obvious way, but you will feel our stubborn wrath. Meaning, it may not be loud and angry (though it can be), but it’ll be mulish and ongoing.

I’m so tired. My sleep has been terrible lately, even more than normal. It’s not a coincidence that it’s gotten worse since this president took office. And, it’s doubly not surprising that it’s been absolutely awful this week.

These are dark days. Really dark days. This president has made it clear that he considers liberals his enemy, and his goal is to stomp us into the ground. That’s his basic M.O. in general. Anyone who is not with him is against him–and therefore, needs to be demolished.


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Sideways to meeting my goals, part four

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In talking about my goals, I used yesterday’s post to talk more about my family. I mentioned how I have come to terms with my parents (sort of) by thinking of them as not my parents (read the post). It’s helped me smooth out a lot of the frustration I have felt towards them, which I  consider a win. Look. It’s better than what our relationship has been in the past, and I know that it’s not going to change. I talked about how neither of my parents have changed much in all the time I’ve known them, so why would they start now?

What does that have to do with my goals? The dysfunction in my family has often made me feel like what I did didn’t matter, especially as an AFAB person. My birth gender was emphasized so heavily, and I was deducted so many points  just for having the misfortune of being born a girl. My parents were both so heavy on gender essentialiism, I hated being a girl by the time I was cognizant that it was a thing.

One of my sharpest memories of my childhood is that by the time I was seven, I was praying every night to a god I didn’t really believe in that he would make me a boy. not because I felt like a boy or because I thought I was a boy (I didn’t on either), but because I had internalized that it was awful to be a girl. Every morning, I woke up deeply disappointedc that I was still a girl. Like, crushingly disappointed.

At some point in my early twenties, I became aware of gender and race. And I became a raging feminist/pro-Asian person. I also became aware that I was attracted to women as well as men (*binary at the time. This was the early nineties before nonbinary, genderqueer, agender, etc.,  became part of the social consciousness), but I put that on a shelf because I did not want to deal with that as well as race and gender.

This all comes into play when I write. When I write, all of that comes out in every word. Sometimes, those on the right will snark about how ‘woke’ those on the left are.

Side note: I never understood how that became a negative, but it’s just a well-worn path for them. Take something that is a positive (being aware of other cultures, personal identities, etc.,) and make it a flaw or something to sneer at. Even the word itself, ‘woke’, uttered an a derogatory epithet is baffling to me. Along with being called ‘PC’. Who wouldn’t want to be aware that other ways of living are out there? (That’s a rhetorical question.)


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Sideways to meeting my goals, part three

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Let’s talk more about the circuitous way my brain works. I talked at length about it yesterday, but I have more to say. By the way, I am garrulous, especially in writing, and I’ve just accepted that about myself. Why use one word when ten will do? And why use ten when fifty works so much better? I have to actively stop myself from going on for longer than I already do, and when I’m tired, all bets are off.

I’ve gotten better, as hard as it is to believe that. But I used to not talk at all when I was a kid because I wsa taught that what I had to say didn’t matter. Nor what I thought or believed, for that matter. I was told over and over again that good girls were not heard at all and were barely seen, either.

When I was little, I was an exuberant, loud, joyful child. I would run around, climb trees, and just in general, be an active child. By the time I wsa seven, I was severely depressed, fat (according to my mother, who made sure to remind me of it in several ways, including putting me on my first diet, and saying I had such a beautiful face; too bad I was so fat). On nearly a daily basis, I was thinking about killing myself and how the world would be better off without me.

See, that was what the emotional abuse did–it told me that I was worthless. Or worse that worthless–I was an overall negative to the world. When I was in my late teens, early twenties, I believed I woke up every day not deserving to live, and I had to earn my way back to zero. Why? Because everyone around me reinforced the idea that my life in and of itself had no value. My parents, the people at the very cult-like Evangelical Taiwanese church my parents belonged to, and my very white teachers in the 1970s and 80s.

There were a few teachers who were incredibly kind to me, but for the most part, I was ignored. I’m not blaming those teachers, mind you. I note it more to say that I never felt welcomed in school, either.

It took me studying Taiji for me to realize that I mattered as a person. Not as an emotional support person. Not as an accessory, a friend, or a listening ear. But as a person in and of myself. Me. Just being me.

It’s difficult for me to hold onto that because my mother keeps making it about her. After my serious medical crisis, she said she was glad I hadn’t died–so she would still have someone to talk to about her problems. She’s said this to me more than once, by the way. She’s also called me her therapist, and her justification is that she knows all the therapists/psychologists/psychiatrists in Taiwan on a professional basis. Which, you see, means that she can’t have a therapist of her own.


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Sideways to meeting my goals, part two

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I’m back with more musings about my three main goals. I caught up on my writing (as far as an hour a day), and I have decided that I’m going to move Point B to the second book. What am I talking about? Well, I mused about it in the prior post, which you can read here.

In my murder novemoir, I had the central mystery plotted out in my mind. I didn’t know who the perp would be (which is unusually for me. I usually know it from the beginning), but I had the vic and the basic plot points.

Last night, I started writing about a second major mystery that I had seeded the night before, which was much more interesting to me. My impulse was to set it aside, but my brain said, “Nope. We’re going to keep on writing about it.” I mentioned in yesterday’s post that I knew the smart thing to do would be to put it in the sequel, but I’m stubborn if nothing else.

Now, though, I think I’m going to set it aside for the second book. It’s too meaty to do it in tandem with another major mystery. I have decided that the hour a day can include the time it takes for me to research a topic or rereading what I wrote before. It includes thinking time and anyithing that is related to writing. Once I’ve done that for the month of January, then I’ll think about making it two hours.

I am very glad that I changed it from writing 2,000 words a day to writing for an hour a day–and now saying doing anything writing-related for an hour. The goal right now is to get myself back into writing fiction on a daily basis. I still have it in me; I just need to apply myself.

Side note: This is another thing that I found out about neurospicy people–it’s not just laziness. What I mean is that sometimes it feels literally impossible to force myself to do the thing I need to do. Even if it’s something I want to do.

When my bestie used to live here, we would make plans to get together once a month or so. I always looked forward to it, but I had to drag myself to get dressed and drive to her place. She would not be ready when I got there (a long running joke in our thirty-year friendship), and we used to commiserate with each other about how weird it was that we had such a hard time getting ready for something we really wanted to do.


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