Because representation matters.

Photo by Joseph Chan on Unsplash

“I’m the light every night in your world, hey
You revel in the glory of my beauty
You ready to watch me be legendary?
’Cause I’m ultraluminary”
-Phillipa Soo (“Ultraluminary” from Over the Moon soundtrack)

My 5-year-old daughter is belting these lyrics as I drive her to daycare. I can’t help but sing along, not only because the song is super catchy, but because it’s a song I never would have heard 30 years ago as a child.

A song sung by a powerful (not subservient) Asian woman in a film with an all (super talented) Asian cast. MIND BLOWN.

Sometimes, I’m grocery shopping and I start singing to the tune of my favorite ’80s song. But the lyrics are all about my kid.

One of my proudest moments in life was when I gave birth to my daughter. Another proud moment was when I got my daughter to fall in love with Wham’s “Wake Me Up, Before You Go Go” and Culture Club’s “Karma Chameleon.”

Some people may be embarrassed to admit they love music from the ’80s, but I embrace every cheesy, neon-covered moment of that decade. The fashion was wild, rattails were long and music was what…

It took my father being diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer for me to finally see how much I was like him.

Photo by Abigail Faith on Unsplash

“You have his nose.”

That’s what the old man said as he shook my hand and then proceeded down the line of grieving family members.

It was Friday, September 9, 2016. I had just sat through my father’s veterans memorial service at Fort Gibson National Cemetery in Oklahoma. It was a small service with a few family members and friends, many of which I had never met before.

My brother and sister were beside me. They were the strong ones as usual, keeping their emotions in check and staying stone-faced as I struggled to keep my tears from falling. …

For me, quality time with mom meant making and eating kimchi.

Source: Trish Broome

I used to be jealous of my friends whose mothers baked chocolate chip cookies from scratch, or who knew how to make the perfect pan of lasagna. My mom’s idea of baking was burning the bottoms of premade Pillsbury cookies, and she often added ketchup to spaghetti sauce because, “It’s the same ingredients.”

However, where she lacked in cooking Americanized cuisine, she more than made up by making some badass kimchi.

The process of making kimchi usually started with my mom asking, “Do you want to go to the…

Photo by Trish Broome

A few weeks ago I woke up in the middle of the night after dreaming about Zoey and Isabella. My 4-year-old daughter Harper had been sleeping peacefully beside me, so when I started sobbing, I had to hold my breath so I wouldn’t wake her up.

I stared at Harper as the glow of the Minnie Mouse nightlight reflected on her face. I knew that even if she woke up and saw I was an emotional mess and wasn’t a super mom who had her life together, she would love me unconditionally.

That’s the kind of love I always felt…

After our father’s death, my brother and I were forced to confront our shared mental illnesses.

“I just told mom. I told her everything.”

My brother Eddie walked up from the basement after talking to my mom for about an hour. I had watched an episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race to give them time alone because they hadn’t seen each other in person in months. Plus, I knew the weight of the conversation, and it was something he needed to tell her since last year.

Part of me was proud of him for finally telling her. The other part of me, who knows how difficult it is for our Korean mother to show emotion, was nervous.

I can’t turn on the news or scroll through my Facebook feed without seeing news of Senator John McCain’s death. It’s a constant reminder of my own father’s death, which happened two years ago on August 27, 2016.

There are several parallels between these two men and their deaths that are haunting to me. McCain was a Navy veteran and my father retired from the Army. Both men were Republicans whose political views clashed with my own. …

I’ve been making resolutions for as long as I can remember. They always seem attainable, but usually around a month or two into the year, I realize that I’m either too lazy, too busy or too stressed out to do them, and they fall to the wayside.

But now I have an almost 2-year-old, and the fact that I’ve kept her alive (and that she laughs and hugs me every day) gives me hope that I CAN achieve what I set out to do. …

Trish Broome

Unashamed nerd. Awkward mom. Kimchi connoisseur. Hot sauce addict. ’80s fanatic. Writings on motherhood, mental health, humor, being half Korean and more.

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