Growing up, I often told my grandmother that I wished she were my mom. She would laugh in her soft way and tell me that I was silly for saying that, though looking back I wonder if she had been pleased to hear that from me. My wish made sense to me as a child: my mother was emotionally abusive and yelled at me all the time, whereas my grandmother practiced nurturance and compassion in every moment, so of course I would want my grandmother to have more years to live and to raise me over my biological mother. I question now whether my younger self felt life’s unfairness while making that statement. Why did the universe give me such a horrible mother when it could have given me my grandmother as my mother instead?
I felt a somewhat similar sense of unfairness this past Mother’s Day weekend, about a week and a half ago. Continue reading
Sometimes I forget that in addition to having beautiful pink hair and listening to BlackPink, I also do research. A few weeks ago, a somewhat prestigious academic journal invited me to review a manuscript about sexual assault against men. Last Monday I got invited to revise and resubmit my Master’s thesis to one of the top journals in addiction science. About a week ago one of my former students got her independent project on LGBTQ+ Asian Americans and Kpop published in a reputable queer journal. While I wish I could feel only positive about these accomplishments, a part of me also feels dread: dread about owning my identity as a social scientist.
After engaging in a lot of introspection
because I introspect instead of learning how to cook or put together furniture, I realized that I feel reluctant to own my identity as a social scientist because of the trauma and adversity I have witnessed and experienced within academia. Continue reading
Several hours ago, I went on a date with this guy who works in geographic information science. What we talked about felt fine – him considering getting a PhD and my feelings about almost having one, him resisting stereotypical images of Black men growing up and me loving myself as a gay Asian man in my mid-twenties, him wanting a spontaneous romantic partner and me wanting a social justice-oriented one. Toward the end of the date though, I recognized that I felt bored. This guy came across as kind, self-aware, and communicative, yet I noticed I had not laughed once. So, on my way back home I texted him and said that I would enjoy a casual friendship or friends with benefits situation, given that I did not feel any romantic chemistry.
I love how this played out because I felt no sense of defeat. Continue reading
As a child, I thought a lot about the meaning of my life. I thought a lot about the meaning of my life especially after my mother would yell at me for hours on end – why would anyone put me on this earth so this woman could scream at me and make me want to kill myself? I remember typing on my laptop at some point, during sixth grade or earlier, with tears running down my face: I was put on this earth to make a difference, to stop people like her from hurting others. While other kids thought about prom and popularity and potential first romances, I felt dedicated to escaping my home and then devoting my life to helping others help themselves.
Except escaping my home marked just the start of my healing. Continue reading
This blog turns nine years old in December, wow! Who knew I would transform from a weird, dark-haired, not-yet-aware-of-his-gayness high school student into a weird, red-haired, very queer and femme grad school student? Time sure flies when you spend hours processing and healing from your trauma, breaking the hearts of thirsty men, and over-disclosing about your life on the internet have fun! I will now share some blog and life updates because I love the readers of this blog, all 2.5 of you, and I want to keep you in the loop.
First, I updated my “About Me” page to include a photo of me with my red hair! Continue reading
So I went on a date with this really cute guy named James and we talked for two hours and he had a gorgeous smile whenever he laughed and seemed to reject capitalism and I sort of wanted to see him again. We had some honestly mediocre because he’s a white man who hasn’t been socialized to communicate effectively decent text exchanges before he told me that he would like to see me again but not romantically because he hasn’t been into guys lately. Here are some thoughts I could have had, if not for my queen Audre Lorde: Continue reading
I remember screaming in the middle of a filled parking lot several months ago. My sophomore year in college had just ended, and my entire high school friend group had discarded me, for reasons belonging to both me and them. I felt so alone sitting in my car, right outside the central shopping mall of my hometown where we all used to hang out. My hands gripped the plastic covering of the steering wheel as ugly animal sounds shot out of my body and filled the stale air around me. I hated myself in that moment: I hated how isolated and weak I felt, I hated how I had pushed my friends away and how they had stayed away, and most of all, I hated my inability to treat myself with the compassion I so often applied to others. This is painful and this is pathetic, I recall thinking to myself. Pull yourself together. Now. Continue reading
And if you know someone who’s grieving, do not say: “Call me if you need anything.”
In my most recent short story, the main character, an adolescent male named Luca, jumps off the roof of his high school after hearing about his best friend’s death. He feels responsible for her passing, which contributes to his suicide attempt. Luca has a lot of emotional problems; he wrecks havoc amongst his peers to satisfy his twisted sense of morality. Continue reading
T-Swift at her peak, holding back tears. I admire her!
I heard “Ronan” two days ago right after returning home from school. After listening to the song for fifteen minutes, I literally had to exit out of ITunes so I could staunch the flow of tears trailing down my face.
Musically, this song is breathtakingly beautiful. Continue reading