Underneath my yellow skin

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The last post about labels (for now), part five

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I’m back for one last post about gender identity and labels.

Ha! We all know that’s not true. It may be the last one for now as I put in the title, but it’s certainly not going to be the last time I talk about gender, as much as I would like it to be. Yes, I could try never to think of it again, but that’s nearly impossible in this world.

Oh, here’s the post from yesterday. We’ll see if  I actually write about what I intend to write about.

When I was talking to K about gender identity, I said that it’s easy for me to accept gender changes in people because gender didn’t mean anything to me. If you remove the socio-political meaning from gender (which, I know, is impossible to do), then in really has no meaning in and of itself.

I mean, that’s pretty simplistic because you could say that about any word, really. A term has a basic meaning, and then it has the meaning that a society infuses it with. But in this case, I really am lost at sea with the word.

Side note: It’s interesting. I do not have the same struggle with other labels I use. I mean, I don’t like bisexual as a term, but it does at least come close to describing what I consider myself. I and many other bis think of it as people like me and people not like me (the bi part) rather than two genders. Of course, there are other people who use pansexual or omnisexual, but as I have said before, I don’t like either of those.

Damn. I Googled, and there are some really bad terms like ambisexual, switch-hitter (uggggggh), hermaphrodite?!? and androgynous. I like the last word, but it’s not a synonym for bisexual. Someone was complaining about there not being another word so you have to say ‘sexual’ in the label. Uh, no. I call myself bi. Many bis I know do it as well. Bis looks weird to me, but bi is fine.

I’ve made my peace with bi. It’s fine, though I would prefer just to say sexual. But, again, it sends the wrong message. Sigh. It is what it is, and it’s fine.

Taiwanese American? Also fine. I am American with Taiwanese heritage. That’s pretty straightforward, and it doesn’t really need much explanation. It’s also the one I think the least about now. It gave me a lot of drama/trauma when I was younger, but I’m mor e than fine with it now.

Areligious? Yeah, I fully embrace that one. I do not know if there is a god, multiple gods, or no gods, and I don’t care. That’s why I choose areligious rather than atheistic. God can do what god is or isn’t going to do if there is a god or isn’t. It doesn’t really affect my life…yeah, I’m not going to get into that because it’s not the point of this post.

I’ve embraced fat, too. It flusters people when I say cheerfully that I’m fat. I know it’s because it’s considered a horrible negative in this society, but it’s another thing that makes me snicker. There’s something truly magical in not giving a shit. I highly suggest it to everyone.


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Let’s talk more about labeling (part four)

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I was talking to K today, and we were talking about gender identity. It’s something we’ve talked about quite a bit, and we’ve been on the same page about the concept for our whole lives. She once said to me that she admired the way I easily adapted to people’s genders. We talked a bit about that, and I said it was because gender was unfathomable to me (just like it’s hard to describe the color blue to a blind person), so I accepted people’s genders without a murmur.

When you drilled right down to it, why did gender matter? Not in a sociopolitical sense because it matters a great deal in that way (and as a way to show solidarity/fight the patriarchy), and, yes, I can see why it’s important to individuals as part of their identity, but as a way of gatekeeping who can call themselves what gender, I am not a big fan of it. At all.

I have  thought about this so much, it makes me tired. If I were going to be totally real–oh, here’s my post from yesterday in which I said I was going to talk about labels and dating, but then didn’t. If I were going to be totally real, I would just like to never have to think or talk about gender again. Just let me beeeeeeeeeee. There’s nothing I can or can’t do based on my gender, really, so why should I care?

This is where I get tripped up every time. I can do what I need to do regardless of my gender, so why do I need to have one? No one can explain this to me to my satisfaction, which is how I feel about a lot of things. There are times when I just have to accept that I will never truly get it. The only reason I think about it is because it’s so important in this world.

I’m saying this with zero snark–I don’t understand why the heavy emphasis on it. I know it’s me beacuse most people do care about it a lot. I would not care that other people cared so much about it if it was just for themselves. I’m very big on live and let live, but the ‘let live’ part has to go both ways.

Which it doesn’t. At all.

It’s really depressing that all the progress we’ve made is getting torn up in this presidency. I can’t even get angry because I’m just so drained and exhausted. I know that’s the whole point of this spate of terrible laws, but it’s working. And this is one reason I will never date a Republican.

See how I did that?

I had that in a dating ad thirty years ago. I said I would date any gender, race, religion, creed, but not a Republican. I wasn’t joking, even though I put it in a jovial tone. I’m even more not joking about it now. If someone is a Republican in this time and age, that’s all I need to know about them.

As I’ve said, it’s funny when people who don’t give a shit about discrimination in general (or covertly/overtly support it) want to bleat about discrimination in dating when it’s against them. People are allowed to discriminate in their dating lives, and it’s especially true when the discrimination is based on something like ‘this person doesn’t believe I should exist’. Or ‘this person is a racist sexist piece of shit’.


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Labels, labels, labels everywhere (part three)

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I want to talk more about gender identity, sexual orientation, and dating. And labels. Maybe. It’s been at the forefront of my mind for several reasons. I mentioned in the last post a few times when it was helpful to have labels (mostly with health issues), and I am not going to muse whether or not it’s helpful in dating.

I will say I don’t like the labels I’ve chosen for my sexual and gender identities. They are both the least worst of the bad, and I’m not satisfied with either. Bisexual and agender, by the way. I’ve had the former label for over thirty years, and it has never sat right with me. I like queer the best, but it now is synonymous with gay. I’m not happy about it, but it’s not a fight I’m up for fighting.

Same with genderqueer. I really like it as a descriptor for not being on the binary in the fullest sense of the term. But now it means nonbinary in the same way queer means gay.

Sigh.

I’m irritated with myself for always making life so difficult. This is part of being neurodivergent, too, though. I’ve read that people who are neurodivergent often feel the need to be really explicit and on point with their words. I can attest that this is me, and it’s annoying as fuck. Even to me when it’s me doing it.

I overexplain things and belabor the point until the other person is ready to scream. I can see the shift on their face (or hear it in their message), and yet, it takes a Herculean effort for me to shut the fuck up. The person I’m talking to doesn’t need a twenty-page backstory to every idea I want to present. When I found out this was a thing with autistic people, I felt validated.

Another thing is that everything is related in my brain. I can’t tell a story without bringing in what others would consider extraneous information and tidbits. When I talked to my autistic friend about it, she was in enthusiastic agreement that her brain worked that way, too. It’s one reason we can have comfortable conversations (in messages). We can pepper in as many non sequiturs as we want without worrying. And if one of us goes really far down a weird road, the other will bring the first person back again.

Or not. Sometimes, I join her on the side path to nowhere (and vice-versa), which can lead to some wild journeys. And once in a great while, I don’t know where she’s going. I can usually figure it out, but if I can’t, I just ask questions until I get the gist of what she was trying to say.

Knowing that this is a thing for neurodivergent people is such a relief to me. It doesn’t mean that I just let myself ramble all I want whenever I want, but it does mean that I can be a bit kinder to myself when I can’t seem to stop utter nonsense from coming out of my mouth.


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Am I talking about gender again? Kind of

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Because I live in my own little world, I often forget that most people are more fixated on gender than I am. Here is my post from two days ago (I skipped yesterday) in which I maundered about the travesty of gender roles rigidity. I’m still thinking about it because I’m still watching stuff that is tangential to Korean culture content.

One thing I find interesting about different cultures is how something that is verboten in one country is not in another. For example, in American culture, you rarely hear cis het dudes talking about how pretty/hot/cute another guy is. Even when talking about famous men who are known for their good looks (say Hugh Jackman–someone who many women find wildly attractive), most cis het men won’t talk about how hot they are. They may say the guy is handsome or good-looking, but that’s it. Or if they do say he’s hot, they have to add some version of ‘no homo’. Most of them are aware enough to know that they can’t say that exact phrase (though, distressingly, a few still do), but they say something close to it. Usually, “I’m a happily married man, but…” which is better. Still. There’s no need to qualify when you’re saying someane is hot.

That’s how I feel. I am surprised how Korean men (on YouTube, anyway) have no qualms with saying a male celebrity is cute or sexy or pretty. There’s usually no qualifier and no need to be at all apologetic. I’m assuming it’s a cultural thing because it seems to me that popular Korean celebs (at least in K-pop) have to do all kinds of wild things while in the public eye. It’s almost like they’re living in The Truman Show where they have no privacy at all. The things that their fans think they have the right to know is astonishing and a bit disturbing, actually. So it’s probably not surprising that everyone feels comfortable commenting so frequently on how hot/pretty/sexy the celeb is.

At the same time, at least in K-pop, the idols themselves are supposed to be young and pure. It’s a really interesting dichotomy that I find fascinating from afar.

I want to emphasize that I’m not saying it’s better or worse that celebrity culture in America–just different. There are positives and negatives to both. I’m just bringing it up because in relation to gender, it’s way more upfront about the sexism than is America. As someone who lives in a progressive area, sometimes, that makes it harder to deal with the isms. Why? Because they’re more hidden, but they’re still there. I just have to look for the giveaways and listen for the dog whistles.


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Gender-defending, also known as gender shit (part five)

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Let’s talk more about gender. I want to lay it all on the table so we can finally figure it out together. By the time I’m done, I will have figured out, definitively, what gender is. Once and for all! Obviously, that is said very tongue-in-cheek. If I did not have to think about gender ever again (and people would be chill about it), that wouldbe my happy place. Here is my post from yesterday that about the difference between Asian sexism and Western sexism.

Alas, that is not to be. I still can’t get over the fact that one of the things the people on the right were obsessed with as a reason to hate Bad Bunny was the fact that he liked to wear dresses and skirts. I didn’t even realize it until it was pointed out. Then, I went back and looked at several pictures, and, yes, he does enjoy him a nice dress and/or skirt.

Better him than me! I don’t like dresses. Some skirts are fine (flowy, very loose, and thin), but in general, I am a pants kind of person. Or rather, I am a naked kind of person, but you have to wear clothing in public if you don’t want to get arrested.

In general, I don’t like tight clothing. It’s a sensory thing (another trait of autistic people I have found. Having sensory issues, I mean). I can’t stand anything touching my skin, really, so the less the better. That’s why I don’t wear underwear or a bra, either. I stopped wearing both completely during the pandemic. I was wearing them rarely before that–only when I went out–and then I went feral during the pandemic. And realized that I really preferred going free.

Oh, and I also talked about having anorexia and bulimia while I was in my twenties. That was also as a result of very harmful sexism, both Western and Eastern. Both demanded that girls/women be practically nonexistent, but for different reasons.

Side note: With my recent Kpop Demon Hunters obsession, I’m starting to notice how that sexism plays out. One big way is how painfully thin the female characters are in the movie. Hell, most of the guys are as well. But the women more so. Yesterday, I included the video clip from their song Golden. Today, I have included a video of them singing it live below. You w ill note  that EJAE (Rumi) and Rei Ami (Zoey) are both really skinny whereas Audrey Nuna (Mira) is heavier. She’s not heavy by any stretch of the imagination, but she’s not painfully thin, either.

Side note to the side note: Mira is my favorite character in the movie from the clips I’ve seen. She’s sarcastic, moody, an oddball, and defiant. Audrey Nuna is wise-cracking in a deadpan kind of way and calls herself emotionally constipated. And I love her striking hairstyles. Very non-traditional.

Why couldn’t Mira be heavier in the movie? Again. I’m not asking the impossible. I’m not asking that she be *gasp* plump. Just that she didn’t look like she could be blown over by a sharp wind. The funny thing is that the three women are constantly eating ridiculous amounts of food. It’s true that many Asian women are tiny and can eat a great deal, but still. Let one of them be more than a shadow.


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Talking a bit more about gender (part four)

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I’m back to talk about gender again. I want to make ‘gender-blender’ happen, but I doubt it’ll catch on. In my last post, I finished it by talking about EJAE, the singing voice for Rumi from Kpop Demon Hunters. She never made it as a Kpop star in Korea, and she has said it’s because her voice was deemed not feminine enough. I have watched a bunch of reactions to her singing the songs that she’s pprobably an alto with a really big range. Yes, everyone loves her high notes (and she nails them; they’re so pure!), but several singers/voice coaches have commented on how warm her low notes are. And how dark. Honestly, I like it when she’s hitting the low notes more so than when she goes way high.

I know that South Korea in general is obsessed with looks and rigid gender roles. When I watch Kpop singers, it’s very clear that so many of them have had work done, even though they’re in their twenties and thirties. When I was in Taiwan, I got made fun of by my Taiwanese cousins for being fat. When I was in Thailand, I was told I looked like a man, basically. This was thirty-plus years ago, but I’m not sure how much it’s changed now.

I used to say that I got hit with rampant sexism from both my cultures, just in different ways. It really did a number on my head to be told in so many ways that I was just so wrong. The weight was the first of many things that I was supposed to change. My mother put me on my first diet when I was seven. But, at the same time, I was supposed to eat everything on my plate because she was an Asian mom at heart.

I was seven. Seven! Being told that I was fat and gross. Maybe my mother didn’t say the second word, but she made it painfully clear that she felt that way. She did actually say, “Your face would be so beautiful if yonly you weren’t so fat.” I think I was a teen or in my early twenties then.

When I was eighteen and about to go to college, I decided to lose weight. I went hard and lost forty pounds in two months. And became anorexic. Not on purppose, obviously, but it happened. I almost feel ilke it was destined to happen given my mom’s nagging. Then, in college, I could not keep up my exercise regime (I exercised up to seven hours a day), so I started adding casual bulimia to the mix. What do I mean by that? I mean that I ‘only’ did it two or three times a week. I put only in quotes because I know how that sounds now, but at the time, it made perfect sense to me.

I didn’t have the strength to starve myself the way I had before. I would try, but–see. I only slept three hours a night. That left me with several hours in which I had to stay awake. And not eat. I would eat oyster crackers for breakfast and lunch. A cup of them. Then I would have maybe a bit of fish and rice for dinner. Then,  I would stave off the hunger until two or three in the morning. When I could not stand it any longer, I would buy several packets from the vending machine and scarf them down. Then, I would feel guilty about it and throw it back up.


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Gender-blending and me

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Gender has been a big topic in my life–much against my will. If it were up to me, I’d not think about it at all. Sadly, that is not a choice, especially the way things are going in America right now. I have often thought that if I were just left alone, I would be fine with the label ‘woman’. Meaning, if no one ever talked about it, it would be fine by default.

However. Given that people are way too consumed by the gender of people they don’t even know, I reluctantly have to think about it. To recap: I am AFAB, and for the first fifty years of my life, I begrugdingly accepted that I was a woman (especially in the eyes of others). I didn’t feel a kinship to the word, but I was fine with it. Fine.

I was not elated. I was not even happy. I did not embrace the word or really consiber it mine. It was just shorthand for being physically coded as female whilst being inner coded as ‘who the fuck knows’?

I just left it as I was a woman even if I did not feel like one. That was, however, because I didn’t truly know what a woman was supposed to be like. I’m saying this with no snark. I did not fit within the traditional/stereotypical description/definition of a woman, and I haven’t since I was a kid. I don’t like cooking, cleaning, sewing, any kind of crafting, pink, makeup, fashion, clothes (both the styling thereof and actually wearing them), etc. I did not like dolls when I was a kid; I much preferred stuffed animals.

I did not dream of my wedding or play mother and baby with my (nonexistent) dolls. The dolls I did have, I just made them have sex with each other–regardless of gender. That should have been a sign that my sexuality was YES PLEASE, but I was too repressed to recognize it at the time.

I think the only traditional female markers I have are my boobs, my hip-length hair, and my love of sappy ballads. I mean, I guess plushies are still coded female, but not quite as strongly as it was when I was a kid.

My hobbies are considered more male as well. Video games and martial arts, both with a heavy emphasis on weapons. I used to watch sports (football, baseball, and basketball, specifically), but I stopped for political reasons. Plus, I just lost interest at some point.

when I crush out on someone, I don’t want to say I don’t see gender, but it’s just not that important to me. I have mentioned several times before that K has marveled at how easily I can switch someone’s gender, and I truly think it’s because I don’t see gender as rigid–and most definitely not as a binary. In addition, I only see it as a part of someone’s whole, so I don’t get hung up on how someone should be in accordance to their gender.

In fact, one of my biggest gripes is when people want to make the definition of woman and man so narrow and rigid. Why put people in boxes/cages that can’t be expanded? It’s also a part of another pet peeve–the idea that men and women can’t be friends. There is so much wrong with that statement, I almost don’t know where to begin.


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Stick your labels where the sun don’t shine (part three)

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I’m back to talk more about labels. I know they’re needed and useful, but I would prefer to do away with them. Here is the post from yesterday in which I veered hard into talking about horror games for a bit. Why? Why not. Because it was spooky season, and while I enjoy it, I don’t get scared by most pop media.

I have said this many times before, and I don’t quite no why. I want to emphasize that I don’t count jumpscares in that my body jerking involuntarily is not fear; it’s a startle response. Also, it’s the cheapest way to get a ‘scare’, and I don’t approve. Making my body jump is not the same as scaring me; I will die on that hill. I will also add that I don’t recoil; I don’t screech; and I don’t freak out in any way. In fact, sometimes, I don’t even externally jump.

It’s not a flex; I swear. I’m just born different. I always have had weird responses to things (again, probably a neurospicy thing) so I just don’t process things the same way other people do. I used to wonder why, and it wasn’t until I was in my thirties that I realized it was something with my brain. Not that it was broken, but maybe ADHD?

Side note: I’m glad we’re moving away from just citing the stereotypical symptoms that happen to white boys when talking about neurodiversity. I’m bitter that I might have clocked onto it sooner if I had known that the oft recited symptoms weren’t the only ones, by any mean.

I think that’s one of the reasons I’m chary about labels, too. They put you in a box, and they don’t allow for any wiggle room. It’s one of the reasons I want to opt out of all the usual labels. I’ve said this in terms of ‘woman’. It’s like wearing an ill-fitting raincoat when it’s pouring out. Sure, it’ll keep much of the water out, but I’m still going to get wet. And I’m not going to feel good about it, either. I can’t wait to get out of it and dry off.

In other word, it’ll do in a pinch, but I don’t love it.

That’s how I feel about most labels. They’yll do in a pinch, but I don’t love them. Even the ones I choose.

When I was in college, I loved having tests that had essay questions. I can bullshit my way out of anything because I am good with words. It’s a gift, and it’s something I’m grateful for. If it’s a multiple choice quiz, though, I do horribly. Why? Because I overthink it. I can see situations in which each of the answers would be correct. That’s because most multiple choice quizzes/tests are poorly written, but that’s neither here nor there.


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Labels have limited use, part two

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In yesterday’s post, I was listing all the labels I use that are close enough, but not quite. I acknowledge the need for labels, but I don’t like them. Not in the deceptive ‘no labels, but, really, labels, but no, we won’t call them labels’ way of certain billionaires in this country.

I pretty much listed all the labels that I have used reluctantly. I’m scanning to think if there are others. I will say that I call myself fat without reservation. I am not chubby, zaftig, plump, or fluffy. I am fat, and I have no issues with that. I don’t see it as a bad thing, and I have worked hard to reclaim it. I now see it as neutral, and it amuses me when people rush to assure me that I’m not fat. Yes, I am, and I am not upset about it.

I understand the need for labels, but I think that we have to remember that they are not still shots of a person. They are living, breathing things, and they can change over time. I think that’s another way people can get tripped up–in thinking that identity is static. Or that if one aspect of a person’s identity changes, the prior ones are null and void.

Now, of course, there are times when this is true. Or rather, when a person’s change in identity is permanent and complete. Like me and Christianity. Once I realized what a fraud it was (at least the version I was indoctrinated with), I wanted nothing more to do with it. I have not changed my mind at all about that, and I highly doubt I ever will.

When it comes to my gender identity, though, it’s squishier. I have always known that I’m not very womanly. Many of the things I prefer to do are coded male, as is the way I dress. However, my hair is down to my mid-thighs, and I would grow it longer if I could. I have huge boobs, and I definitely read as female. My voice, on the other hand, is masculine. Deep as fuck, and I constantly get called ‘sir’ on the phone.

In college, I used to cut my hair every four months or so. I would just go to my hair dresser and tell her to do whatever she wanted. She never steered me wrong, and she gave me some great haircuts. One time, I went for a super-short cut (think Rachel Maddow) and wore a long black trenchcoat when I walked around the campus. I got mistaken for a guy from the back, which never bothered me.


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The core of my identity is “fuck it! That’s close enough”

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Let’s talk gender identity. This is something I’ve thought a lot about in the last five years or so. I’ve never felt a burning need to identify with ‘woman’; it was just the easiest way to define myself. It’s the gender/sex I was born into, and it was…fine. At least, if I did not look too closely at it. Once I gave it more than two minutes of thought, though, it all fell apart.

I’m going to be completely frank here. When I think of gender as it relates to myself, I come up empty. I have heard/read people who identify deeply with their gender and how important it is to them. I can accept that it’s a vital core of their identity; I just wish others could accept that about me as well. Meaning, my lack of attachment to my birth gender. And I wish that it weren’t so threatening.

But that’s me in general. I think a lot about many issues. I go deep, research, get obsess, and then I throw up my hands and go, “Fuck! That’s close enough, I guess” because nothing fits exactly.

Let me quickly run down the list.

1. Bisexual. I tried on pansexual and omnisexual (hey, this was thirty years ago), but I did not like either of those. Honestly, my favorite is queer, but people invariably think gay (both gays and straights) when they hear queer. Nowadays, I use bi out of habit, and I think of it is ‘people like me and people not like me’ when it comes to gender, but it’s very much an “eh, it’ll do” label rather than one I embrace or one that fits.

2. Areligious. I used agnostic for awhile. I never liked atheist because that’s way too arrogant and confident for me. I did feel like there is something out there, but my medical crisis showed me that ultimately, it doesn’t matter what it is. My mother and I used to argue about free will versus predeterminism all the time, and I could never wrap my brain around the concept that an all-knowing god allowed us free will. I mean, if He (in her religion, it’s a He) knows what I’m going to do before I do it, then it’s not free will, is it?

I had a friend who was Jewish. She wrote an article about how she believed god was all-loving, but not all-knowing. It was a fascinating article, and while I couldn’t quite accept that, either, it made much more sense than my mother’s version of god.

At some point, I realized that I was tired. And I just did not care if there was a god or not because that god had no affect on my life. If pressed, I would say that I believed there was something that was bigger than all of us, but it’s not something that directs the day-to-day goings on so I just let it be.

I used ‘apathetic’ for some time to describe my religious belief before stumbling on areligious. Once I read up on the latter, I knew that was for me. I just don’t care about religion (for me), and that’s that.


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