“Feminine Guy”
A Snippet on Being Asian American and Agender
“I change out of my skirt before I head in to show my parents that I am still their good son, their happy little boy. But no, I am all but happy because my truth needs to be hidden from them, that my sexuality and lack of gender need to be shoved into a secret box before they can turn the knob and enter my room. Hidden in plain sight. They must never see because I don’t think I can stand seeing them look at me as if I’m somebody else. Not their child.
Some in my culture would call it, “saving face”.
Some would call it a tragedy.
Some will acknowledge that it’s complicated.
But why does it have to be?
I do regret changing out of my skirt.”
- Anthony Corey Chan YUN
Journal Entry: January 18, 2018
I often think about what it means to be both agender and Chinese American. Growing up with immigrant parents and a brother that still stick to fairly traditional ways of seeing things, I find myself a bit saddened when I tell myself, “If only my parents and brother were the type of people that taught me that gender didn’t matter. That I could truly be who I wanted to be.” But of course, that is not the Chinese way. I was taught that sons were valued more than daughters regardless of merit, intelligence, ambition or success. I was taught that men do not cry, let alone fully show any form of emotion. I cried very often growing up, if not as a result of the tyranny of a brother that viewed me as different (I was not like “normal Asian guys”), then as a result of feeling so much like an outsider even amongst friends and family. I was the “feminine guy”, always said with some shred of implication that being one meant I was some sort of damaged good, defective. Of course, I’m sure that friends and strangers alike did not intend to mean it that way, but alas, here I am writing down my reflections on the matter. In fact, there was only one moment in my life where a person had described me as such and said that it was ok to be that, that it was ok to be a feminine guy. But even then, I didn’t feel completely whole, nor was I reassured that I was a “normal Asian guy”. Being a teen at the time and well into my college years, “normal” was all I wanted to be. And as one does when wanting to be “normal”, one finds themselves putting on the mask, as to accommodate one’s loved ones. Not until recently did I even muster up the courage to question my own gender. And when I did, my life suddenly made complete sense. At the same time, it also raised even more pesky questions, in which I am on a journey trying to find answers for.
1. How does an Asian agender (assigned male at birth) individual navigate a deeply gendered Asian culture?
2. Do I need to reject the Asian culture and my Chinese heritage as a whole to live my truest self?
3. How can I convince my Asian peers to truly view our mothers, sisters, daughters and non-binary loved ones as fundamentally equal to our fathers, brothers and sons?
4. Why are Asian people so caught up on Confucian views? He made some sense, but he was human and therefore could’ve been wrong about some of the shit he was saying. *ahem* *cough* familial hierarchies *cough* *clears throat*
All I know is that this is an ongoing battle that I am willing to fight. Non-binary Asians exist. It’s fucking hard to find them but they’re out there. If they and I exist, then so can you. We must scream our existence into the clouds themselves. It is absolutely imperative that we do so. A world cannot embrace that which stays hidden. So let’s do this. Let’s show ‘em.
Thank you so much for reading my feels! I would love to listen to your thoughts and please, feel free to tell me your story in the comments. Let’s all vibe on another level shall we?
