Underneath my yellow skin

Tag Archives: weirdos

Breaking the (unspoken) rules

One thing I have difficulty with is unspoken rules. It’s funny because when I read advice columns, there are always unspoken rules that commenters get/have that I don’t undrestand. Like there was a letter about celebrating a 30th birthday over at Slate, and one of the regular commenter was derisive about the idea of an adult wanting to celebrate their birthday. How very dare they! Did they not know how unbelievably childish that was? This comes up every time the topic of birthdays are discussed at Ask A Manager as well.

Half the people are pro-celebrating your birthday as an adult. Half are agin it. I’m in the latter, but only for me. I’m pro-doing whatever you want for your birthday as long as it’s not me having to celebrate it with you for a month.

I don’t get people who care what other people do that doesn’t affect them, quite frankly. Something like celebrating a birthday…who cares how someone else does it? You don’t want to celebrate your birthday, fine! Don’t celebrate it. You want to celebrate your birthday, fine! Celebrate it. I don’t undrestand why this is such a big deal. I really don’t undrestand the ‘you’re an adult and birthdays are stooooopid’ mindset. At all.

Other people really can’t elaborate why they feel that way, either. It’s the same with Halloween. There are people who loudly scorn adults who want to dress up for Halloween, saying it’s kid stuff. Why? We don’t think acting is a kid thing, but that’s basically playing dress up. Ok, there is more to it than that, but dressing up is a big part of it.

I guess it’s just difficult for me to grasp the outrage of adults having fun in ways that kids have fun. Then again, some people think video games/board games are kid stuff, too, so there’s that. I think if you (general you) enjoy something, then who cares?

I think this is my feelings about life in general. If you are not actively harming other people, then have at it. That’s why I’m a small l libertarian. I don’t care what people do–if it’s not deliberately harming others. That’s my general philosophy, which seems to be an anathema for most people.

Even liberal people.

It’s interesting. I don’t have a hard-and-fast rule as to how most things should  be. Like, the idea that to be an adult, you have to buy a house, get married, have children, have a 9-to-5 job. One thing that came up often when I talked about not wanting children was that I was being selfish. Again, this was only from women. I want to point out that internalized misogyny works hard to uphold the patriarchy.


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Beyond freaks and geeks

Oh, you think the darkness is your ally, you merely adopted the dark. I was born in it, molded by it. I didn’t see the light until I was already a man; by then, it was nothing to me but blinding! The shadows betray you, because they belong to me. I will show you where I have made my home, I will be preparing to bring justice.

–Bane

I was born a weirdo, and I’m comfortable living on the fringe. Hell, more than comfortable–I thrive on the edges. I’ve never been a normie, even though I’ve tried hard to fit in. I wore a powder blue sweater for my senior picture, had feathered bangs, and wore makeup. Whenever I think about it or see a copy, I stare in wonder. Who was that girl, and how did I know her? When I spent a year abroad in Asia, I quit doing all the girly things I had started doing just because I felt I should. I stopped shaving my legs and armpits–I didn’t really need to especially since as a Taiwanese American person, I didn’t have much hair. I cut my hair short so I didn’t have to deal with it (and because it was too damn hot for my usual mop), and I stopped wearing makeup because it just melted off my face in a hot second, anyway.

I felt much more myself once I stripped away all that shit. I still wore earrings, but no other jewelry, and my style of dress was lackadaisical at best. In Thailand, I had someone tell me I looked like a gratui, which is a boy who dresses/looks like a girl.  It was said with a laugh and no intention of malice, but it stung. I had enough issues with my own femininity; I didn’t need other people questioning it as well. I never felt like I was enough of a woman, though to be clear, I didn’t feel like a man, either. When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a boy so badly, I would pray to God to make me a boy. I mean, hey, He created the world, right? So making me a boy shouldn’t be any big thing for Him. It never happened, and I woke up every minute feeling bitterly disappointed. Again, I want to stress that I did not want to be a boy; I just didn’t want to be a girl. To me, I saw how much better it was to be a boy (in both of my cultures), and I was like, “Sign me up.”


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