Anonymous asked: As an Asian myself, I imagine you had pretty strict Asian parents, especially in terms of dating and relationships. Can you describe how (or if) you ever "broke free" from crazy Asian parental grasps?
Awesome, an excuse to relive my slutty high school glory days. Here I go!
My parents, specifically, my mother, were freaking crazy. Luckily for me, their craziness was largely related to their fear of distractions from academics and not to their belief in a god who would smite me if I had premarital sex. In fact, my mother was fairly instrumental about things like dating and marriage. It wasn’t that she had a moral opposition to me going out or hooking up with guys; it was that she worried it would make me a less attractive marriage prospect. Which might seem mind-boggling, but you have to understand that she grew up in a very different time (the 1960s) and place (rural China) in which women were the beggars, not the choosers, in relationships and things like freedom (not even to speak of sexual freedom) were just political jargon. Also, I was constantly doing irritating things like sneaking off with boys from an early age, so I guess I was labeled the “problem child” and treated as such.
During high school, I had a relationship for a year and a half, which she knew about and mildly disapproved of, and many dalliances, which she didn’t know about and definitely would have disapproved of. Please note that I was both cognizant of my mother’s craziness and perfectly willing to work around that and behave sluttily anyway. “Breaking free” was not so much a matter of actively confronting my mother about her ridiculous standards (the Chinese do not care if their standards are ridiculous; they only care that you adhere to them) but more a matter of Learning How To Get Away With Shit. This didn’t always work.
There was one particularly memorable and semi-traumatic incident involving a middle-of-the-night booty-IM (yes, I am of the generation that arranges hook-ups via AOL) and a confrontation with a 17-year-old boy who probably drove home that night with his balls in his hands. This was a dude with whom I had entertained a flirtation throughout senior year of high school and with whom there was a limited time frame for hooking up given that I was leaving the West Coast in a matter of weeks. Oh, and I really wasn’t supposed to be hooking up with him. Thus, he drove to my house at all hours upon request and in this particular incident, not upon request. Let me tell you: you have not lived until you have seen the baseball captain reduced to feebly muttering the words, “Yes, ma’am, sorry ma’am” as a crazed middle-aged Asian woman screams at him through his car window.
Given her upbringing, my mother has actually proved to be fairly open-minded since my high school graduation. (Don’t get me started on how she now treats my teenage sister, who gets to do anything she wants and routinely lives by herself at home because she is trustworthy/will not burn down the house.) I was more or less considered an adult once I turned 18, and my mother was really good about “allowing” me to do things thereafter. She still complained if I stayed out too late or if I didn’t come home, but ultimately, it was understood that these were my choices. There were no more death threats directed at teenage boys. During the summer after my freshman year of college, I interned at a public relations firm while living at home. I dated an investment banker the entire time, slept over at his place, and realized for the first time that I could do all of the above openly from now on. And that has more or less been my life since. Generally speaking, I didn’t talk to my mother much about my love life (and still don’t beyond the necessary details) during college but she assumed correctly that I was having sex and beyond “do not get pregnant”, I haven’t had to deal with much parental flack.
Of course, not all Asian parents are crazy, and certainly, not all crazy parents are Asian. But there is that special breed of paranoid, overbearing immigrant mother, and I assure you, she is not a stereotype. I lived with her.
More burning questions? Ask Lena.
