Underneath my yellow skin

Tag Archives: areligious

Bah humbug is a holiday spirit

When I was in ninth or tenth grade, I wrote an opinion editorial (“op-ed” in the biz) about how Christmas had become so commercialized. This was over thirty-five years ago, and I was such a naive child back then. I thought I had seen the height of consumerism, but I had seen nothing yet.

I loved Christmas as a kid, of course, because I got presents. That was it. No other reason. Just the presents. My brother and I would snoop around to find them before Chrismas. We also found things I’d rather not know existed, but that’s the danger of snooping.

Christmas was oddly disappointing, though, even back then. Well, not oddly. It makes sense when you think about it. When you’re a little kid, a year is such a big chunk of your life. It takes forever to get from one Christmas to another.

Then, Christmas lasted a couple hours an was over for another year. Even if you got everything you wanted for Christmas, there was still the yawning emptiness afterwards because material goods did not fulfill you permanently. This was obvious–now. Not to a little kid who waited all year to get whatever the toy of the year was. To be honest, I didn’t even remember what I got for presents. I knew they were what I asked for or what my mother would think a girl would want (if it was the latter, then it wasn’t what I wanted). I didn’t really remember.

What I did remember was one year, there was nothing in my stocking. I told my  mother about it, and she told me to go back to bed. Fifteen minutes later, she called me to the stocking (and my brother, too, probably) and there were things in it. That was my first inkling that Santa wasn’t real.

Then, I started hating Christmas. There were two reasons for this. One, my fractious relationship with Christianity. I left it when I was twenty and had sex for the first time. I didn’t really believe before that, but I tried so hard. But my mother’s particular brand of hardcore fundie evangelical Christianity never sat well with me–especially the terrible sexism of it all.

When I realized they were lying about sex (that premarital sex was the worst thing you could do and would cast your soul into eternal hell), there was no going back. When someone llies to you that consistantly, persistantly, and without remorse, all the trust was gone.


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Invisibility is my superpower

I’m used to being ignored. It’s a fact of life that people tend to think in the binary. It’s one reason it’s been so difficult to broaden the public consciousness on gender diversity. It’s also a fact that people are territorial. Us and them is pretty much innate (we can argue whether it’s more nature or nurture, but most people feel it to some extent).

I belong to several groups that are outside the binary. I am not black or white. I’m Asian (Taiwanese), so I get ignored when the question of race arises. I’m bisexual, so again, neither gay nor straight. It’s interesting because in the post about trans and gender-diverse people that I wrote about yesterday (at Ask A Manager), there were several bis in the comments (including me) who have said that we’ve  gotten shit from gays and lesbians, and it hurts more than the shit we get from hets.

Side note: I am not happy with the term bisexual, but I don’t like pansexual or omnisexual, either. If I had my druthers, I would call myself sexual and leave it at that. I reall ydon’t like labels (and not in that smarmy ‘no labels’ way), but it’s because I find them constraining. I’m a sloppy, messy person who doesn’t fit into any one category. That’s why I’ll default to the broadest category possible, but still not be satisfied with it.

I’m also areligious/agnostic, rather than an atheist–and I’m certainly not a Christian, I don’t know if there is a god (though I don’t think there is is a Christian God), but at this point, I don’t care. Not in a negative way, but in a ‘I don’t want to think about it any longer’ way.

I have a similar feeling about gender. I just don’t care about it. I had been chewing it over before I ended up in the hospital, and my brain went in many different directions. The reason I started stepping away from ‘woman’ was because of other women. All my life, I had been told that I was not acting properly as a woman.

This included, but was not limited to–not having children (the big one); not wanting children (a bigger one); not wanting to get married; not wearing makeup; not caring about fashion, cooking, or cleaning; liking to climb trees; dislkiking dolls; picturing strangers on the street naked and how they’d be in bed; liking sports; and that’s just the short list. I’m sure some people would put Taiji weapons and video games on that list, too.


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