Underneath my yellow skin

Mother may I?

Yesterday, I was talking about my parents and love. It’s taken for granted that parents love their children, but it’s always been obvious to me that this was not necessarily true. When I was in my mid-to-late twenties and fended off questions about me procreating, one of the things I heard was, “It’s different when… Continue Reading

A mother in name only

In my last post, I rambled about my parents and love. Or rather, the lack of love my parents have for me. It’s been incremental as a realization. Well, at least on my mother’s isde. I’ve never had any illusions about my father, which in a weird way, made him easier to deal with. He… Continue Reading

Bagua brings out the beast in me

I am AFAB and a part of two different cultures that put a heavy emphasis on performing femininity. That would  be American and Taiwanese. It’s insidious in both cultures, though in differing ways. Taiwanese culture, at least through my parents, is regressive, stifling, and has rigid gender expectations. Every time I’ve been there, I have… Continue Reading