Passing, and me.
I won't ever be able to pass as white. I'm half Dutch, half Chinese-by-way-of-Indonesia. I'm raised in the Netherlands. I don't speak Chinese and I don't speak Indonesian. My mother was born in Surabaya but she doesn't speak either of those languages, either. When she was nine her parents fled to the Netherlands.
She loves mashed potatoes. She loves most Dutch winter comfort foods. My father's the one who always makes the Asian food, and my grandmother's just happy to pass the family recipes along.
Dutch is the only language my mother speaks. But she still gets complimented on how well she speaks it.
I won't ever be able to pass as white. My eyes, my lashes, my nose, my cheekbones (my cup size); they're too obviously Chinese. But I am 5''7. I have my father's blushing cheeks. I have freckles. I don't tan well. I feel white, but the moment you see me that passing is over.
I can pass as straight. I can pass as non-autistic. With effort.
Passing as straight is the easiest part. I identify as an aromantic asexual. Most of the time, when people ask me about relationships I don't feel like dealing with the inevitable questions. Sometimes I just don't feel like coming out. Sometimes I think it's none of their business. Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian, because there is still prejudice, but at least most (most! Not all! This makes me always so sad) people won't wonder about whether or not your orientation actually exists. I always say I'm not in a relationship. When asked, I will answer that I haven't met a man or woman yet who would make me want to be in one. When asked, I will clarify that I'm an aromantic asexual, and what it means and what it doesn't mean. When asked, I will state that I intend to die a virgin.
The pitying looks are the worst. Like I don't know what I'm missing.
I don't. I'm just also not interested. So fuck off, and when I tell you that, no, I'm not interested in you, I mean 'no, I am not interested in you. Not now and not ever. And yes, this is a label I'm applying to myself. I am happy in this box. Don't try to force me over to yours.'
I can pass as straight until I tell you I'm not.
Passing as non-autistic is the hardest part.
I have Asperger's Syndrome. I only flutter my hands when I get exited, and then only mildly, but I have to look down when walking to know that the ground is actually connected to my feet. I get most of my vocabulary from my reading material. Reading mostly in English has made my Dutch deteriorate. Frequently I catch myself translating directly.
I hate crowds. I can't do idle chatter. I react only minimally when people are telling me stories. I hate showing empathy because I can't express it. I have such trouble feeling empathy when people are telling me things, but I can cry buckets at movies or books. I always want to talk about my interests. Yours are only interesting in how they relate to mine.
Once, my brother yelled at me that I wasn't normal. I hit him with an electricity cable and ran away crying.
I can pass as non-autistic. Until you talk to me.
She loves mashed potatoes. She loves most Dutch winter comfort foods. My father's the one who always makes the Asian food, and my grandmother's just happy to pass the family recipes along.
Dutch is the only language my mother speaks. But she still gets complimented on how well she speaks it.
I won't ever be able to pass as white. My eyes, my lashes, my nose, my cheekbones (my cup size); they're too obviously Chinese. But I am 5''7. I have my father's blushing cheeks. I have freckles. I don't tan well. I feel white, but the moment you see me that passing is over.
I can pass as straight. I can pass as non-autistic. With effort.
Passing as straight is the easiest part. I identify as an aromantic asexual. Most of the time, when people ask me about relationships I don't feel like dealing with the inevitable questions. Sometimes I just don't feel like coming out. Sometimes I think it's none of their business. Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian, because there is still prejudice, but at least most (most! Not all! This makes me always so sad) people won't wonder about whether or not your orientation actually exists. I always say I'm not in a relationship. When asked, I will answer that I haven't met a man or woman yet who would make me want to be in one. When asked, I will clarify that I'm an aromantic asexual, and what it means and what it doesn't mean. When asked, I will state that I intend to die a virgin.
The pitying looks are the worst. Like I don't know what I'm missing.
I don't. I'm just also not interested. So fuck off, and when I tell you that, no, I'm not interested in you, I mean 'no, I am not interested in you. Not now and not ever. And yes, this is a label I'm applying to myself. I am happy in this box. Don't try to force me over to yours.'
I can pass as straight until I tell you I'm not.
Passing as non-autistic is the hardest part.
I have Asperger's Syndrome. I only flutter my hands when I get exited, and then only mildly, but I have to look down when walking to know that the ground is actually connected to my feet. I get most of my vocabulary from my reading material. Reading mostly in English has made my Dutch deteriorate. Frequently I catch myself translating directly.
I hate crowds. I can't do idle chatter. I react only minimally when people are telling me stories. I hate showing empathy because I can't express it. I have such trouble feeling empathy when people are telling me things, but I can cry buckets at movies or books. I always want to talk about my interests. Yours are only interesting in how they relate to mine.
Once, my brother yelled at me that I wasn't normal. I hit him with an electricity cable and ran away crying.
I can pass as non-autistic. Until you talk to me.