It’s weird to call Hong Kong my “home town” when I know that I’m an outsider.
One of the most beautiful skylines in the world
Even though I always come back to visit, I grew up in such a different environment that I’m more of a Chinese-American than anything else. I hate placing a label on myself because then it seems like there are only two categories. When my siblings and I were younger, we often got into arguments with my father about the way he would treat us. He commonly answer with, “You’re either Chinese or American, so pick one.” My parents grew up in very traditional Chinese households. Perhaps it is due to these very Chinese core principles that led to their marriage. Although many people often assume that Hong Kong Chinese are often less traditional/more liberal than the Mainland Chinese (due to the years of British colonization), I find this to be merely an assumption. My father still quotes from Chinese literature/philosophy and uses various topics in Chinese history as dinner table conversations. As much as she denies it, I know my mom would still prefer me to date and marry someone Chinese. I hated having to choose between being American or Chinese and the older I got,the more I realized that it is extremely difficult to fulfill both oles. Needless to say, I’ve had multiple identity crises throughout my life. However, the college atmosphere provided me a fertile ground to grow on my own and look beyond the narrow path that my parents laid down. Throughout the 4 years of college, I’ve gotten into several serious arguments with my parents. From the ethnicity of my boyfriend to the major(s) I chose, nothing seemed to please them. On the contrary, I was the child that caused the most problems by going against my parents’ wishes many a times. Despite this, I’ve become someone that I could accept and that’s all that has mattered. Fortunately, my parents started to see the passion that I have. Slowly but gradually, they have accepted the reality of the situation. (Dating is another matter that has yet to be settled, but since I’m now single, they don’t have anything to worry about).
I know all this seems to be random information, but it leads to what I’m about to speak of next. I haven’t stayed in Hong Kong for more than 2 weeks (at most) for the longest time. I’ve only been here for about a week and a half and I honestly have to say that I’m going through a bit of culture shock. It’s silly to say this not only because I AM Cantonese, but also because I didn’t even get it in Beijing! However, I also did not have family friends in Beijing. Last week, I spent 3-4 days with my mom’s old colleagues. They’re considered family friends because my mom has kept in contact with them for many years. One of my latest encounters was going out for dim sum with four of my mom’s friends. What was suppose to be a fairly nice rendezvous turned into a degrading one. It gave me a lot to think about and it made me really upset. I had several family photos with me and shared them with the ladies. I was assigned by my mom to give them all a family photo. Aunt M.who watched my sister grow up till 12 years old very much favors her (which makes sense). Aunt E. asked me how my sister was doing and Aunt M. cut me off before I could respond and said, “She’s still as pretty as before. I think she’s prettier than Beatrice, not to mention skinny.” Of course, I happen to be sitting RIGHT next to her. I’m not sure if Aunt E. and Aunt G. did this to “save me face” or if they actually meant it, but they both said something along the lines of, ” It’s not fair to say that because they’re both pretty in their own ways.” Aunt M. did not relent and continued to insist, ” No, I still think Jane is the prettiest.” For those who have seen me and/or my sister, we have very different body types. It’s always been that way. We have similar facial features if you examine us carefully or if you look at a photograph of us together. No one likes or appreciates compared to their siblings or anyone ELSE for that matter. Naturally, I was feeling a bit insecure and upset. I’ve already been feeling insecure about my weight. Since there’s been a trend in Hong Kong and other Asian countries to be skinny, everyone has been dieting and taking diet pills among other things (not to mention Asian girls are NATURALLY extremely thin). I never understood why I turned out to be so different, but I did. Although I’ve had self-esteem issues (I mean…who doesn’t?), it’s not fun to be reminded by your mother that she was no more than 96 lbs until her very first baby. I think my body turned out to be a completely different built because of both swimming and kung-fu. I swam for the longest time on the swim team and I honestly believe that changed my body shape and structure. Anyway, lunch did not turn out to be very pleasant at all. Next topic of conversation was how my mother loves my brother the most, how my father loves my sister the most, and how since I’m the middle child, I kind of just float round. — courtesy of Aunt M. and Aunt G. combined. I felt like utter and complete shit after they said this. I didn’t let it process until a few days later when I was talking to my sister about the incident. I started crying when I was talking to her via gmail because I felt like I was in front of four old versions of my mother (before she started to accept me for me). They kept asking me about the practicality of majoring in English and History aka ” How much money can you REALLY make?” and reiterating the fact that I’m not loved or cared about as much because I’m the middle child. Aunt M. tried to hold her tongue but inevitably let it slip how I got skinnier this time around (as opposed to 3 years ago), but I’m still kind of…”solid” and “broad”. It’s been a while since I’ve questioned my worth or compared myself to my sister. All my life, that’s all it’s ever been. Whether it my mom, relatives, or family friends, I’ve always been compared to her. Her beauty, her intelligence, her size, her boyfriends, her major, etc. I’ve always been the rebellious one and these women know me as such. My mother calls them to vent about how I dated a black man and how much that made her mad because she felt like I was intentionally doing it to make her angry (as Aunt M. pointed out), but not because I ACTUALLY LIKED this guy! It made me upset that my mother paints me in that light. Despite what I’ve done for the family or what I’ve done as an individual, my actions or words will never measure up to these women + my mother’s standard for success. I think the worst part was that I wasn’t even being judged as an individual. I was being compared. I’ve had to live in the shadows of my sister for so long that I really thought people were finally beginning to see me for me, but I guess it’s naive to think that way.
It’s been such a long time since I’ve actually cared about what these people think about me that it hurt 2x more than it usually would. In the past, pangs of insecurity and sadness would come and go easily, but I couldn’t find it in myself to stop thinking about what they said about me TO ME. I talked to a good friend of mine about it. Even though he didn’t even know what the problem really was or what they said, he knew what it was about.
He reminded me that, ” These women are from China, a DRASTICALLY different culture in terms of what they believe in, what they expect from others, and what defines success. You’re there to learn about cultural differences, not be a victim of them. I know you, I believe in you, I know your worth. MUCH MORE IMPORTANTLY, YOU know yourself, YOU believe in yourself (I know you do, whether you know it or not), YOU know your worth, and you should never doubt it. Whatever people are saying to you or about you, YOU DON’T HAVE TO BELIEVE IT, YOU DON’T HAVE TO RESPECT IT. As Einstein once said, one of my favorite quotes ever: ‘I have reached an age that when someone tells me to wear socks, I don’t have to.’”
Thank you Michael for reminding me that this is merely a form of culture shock. I don’t need to take it personally at all. My sister also told me that these women base their information on things from over 10 years ago. They did not necessarily see us grow up and my mom rarely called them to talk about things that made her happy. (As a person who lives her life seeing things half empty, it’s difficult to be content). Jane also told me to keep a distance from people who make me upset, which I think is always good advice. As long as I believe that I’m a good person and what I’m doing is right for me then…I don’t care what other people think. Anyway, I needed to get this out. It’s been bothering me for a few days.
I promise to blog about happier things soon 
Other than this incident, I’ve been having a really good time (not to mention I’m going to 桂林 for a few days! 
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Best wishes to you! <3
