I grew up Asian, thinking American. Part of me believes that this has been the root of my developmental and relationship issues. (The other part blames my parents [it's just soo easy!])
As such, I've grown up having a certain set of values instilled in me: most of them conservative, just about all of them Catholic, and each was expected to permeate every pore of my existence.
Clearly, this did not happen. But I haphazardly-wondered what I'd be like if I did grow up with the values my parents had attempted to stuff into my brain after dinner with Ricky, Susie and Mina the other evening. After cilantro chicken and wine, I prepared myself to bid my Mina goodbye, on my way to the Barnes and Noble across the street to pick out a smut novel (This would turn out to be an awful decision as Ricky and Susie would run around like 6-year-olds hopped on sugar-crack rating each romance cover based on how much man-chest was exposed), when I found myself hearing about her latest relationship news.
See, Mina grew up Asian too. And I believe that she grew up thinking American like me too, but it's really not the case. She has stronger ties to her culture: she speaks the language, follows the religion, and can go back to the home country without counting down the days until she can leave it.
So while we can talk and roll our eyes at a lot of the same concepts that happen in each of our families, there are a fair amount of things that we can't quite mesh well in terms of understanding. Like relationships. Well, the thing is, Asian girls from conservative families just don't have them. It's not particularly "forbidden"...it's just not supposed to happen. Like gay people...dinosaurs and evolution.
Point is, the phrase "Single until you're married" isn't as much of an ironic joke as it is a reality...or a gross hybrid of both. The thing is, I don't give a rat's ass. I've admitted that I don't particularly listen to everything my parents say; it doesn't necessarily make me a shitty daughter, it just means that I grew a brain without their permission. (Blasphemy, I know) Mina, on the other hand...eeh not so much.
See, I've given up on somehow making my parents accept or approve of my "sinful" and "debauchery"-infested life. I've come to accept that we come from two different worlds, lifestyles, cultures, and the only compromise we can arrive at together is to spend most of our days exchanging completely meaningless pleasantries because engaging in an actual conversation will likely end with one side throwing a bitch fit. I think and feel differently than they do about so much that I honestly don't think we can ever really get along past those meaningless pleasantries...and I'm okay with that.
Mina won't give up, though. She determined to somehow make things work with her family and boyfriend of gawd, how long is it now? 9 years? Yeah, let's go with that. She recently told me how her father has been adamant of his rejection of her decision to be with him, even worse, to date against their wishes. I could tell how agitated she was, how much the entire situation made her go into ironic fits of laughter. And while I sympathized, I knew that I couldn't really help since the only "advice" I could give was,
"Fuck 'em."
When you're in a position like that, like one I and several other girls I've know have been in growing up, there's only so much you can do until you have to make a choice. It always comes down to what you want versus what you're willing to give up to get it. Like gauging if you can grasp the next monkey bar before letting go of the one you're still hanging on to: somethings gotta give. Otherwise, you're just kinda stuck hanging from a set of bars like an idiot...
