Posts tagged submission

Aimee Suzara emailed us about an awesome theatrical project that she’s working on called “A History of the Body.” The piece has some overlap with our site, as it examines the impact of historic depictions and the exposition of Filipinos, as well as modern-day cosmetic skin whitening. 

In Aimee’s words:

The goal of this piece is to bring awareness to important, yet little-known, Filipino-American history and bring healing to the often-fragmented woman of color in America. The work has been presented as works-in-progress and staged readings, and supported by the Zellerbach Foundation, Kularts, Inc, and CounterPULSE. This year, the project was selected to be developed and presented by the historic Oakland Asian Cultural Center in 2012-13, with support of The East Bay Community Foundation and the City of Oakland’s Cultural Funding Program.

It looks like the project’s fundraising goal has eight more days to go and they’re almost there! We can’t wait to see it in person. Check it out and contribute if you can.

Read more here.

Know something that should be On Our Radar? Contact us!

I recently discovered this blog through Angry Asian Man and yeah, I will admit, I only clicked on the link because I can’t turn down anything dumpling-related.

What I found though, was a community of Asian and Asian Americans who I felt were brave enough to bring up issues in the Asian community that no one ever talks about. And again, I’m going to be honest, I’m here for the food.

I’m here for the food and the company. I love food. I look at food porn every day. I also love to look at “thinspo” and herein lays the problem. I am obsessed with food, but I am obsessed with being skinny.

As a little kid, I was overweight. I had high cholesterol and so my doctor told my parents that I needed to change my diet or I’d have problems later on in life. After this stern warning, my parents did what every Asian parent does when a woman who doesn’t understand the culture tells them how to raise their kid: they ignored her. 15 years later, I am sitting here, in my apartment at school, and I am not overweight and I don’t have high cholesterol. Instead, I am constantly harassed by my parents whose greeting upon calling me is always, “have you eaten yet?”

I grew out of my chubbiness as I got older but that didn’t stop me from reducing my intake in middle and high school. I made sure to skip breakfast and lunch. I gave up drinking things like high-calorie smoothies, juices, and sodas. However, I never stopped obsessing scrolling through page after page of thinspo of skinny girls with skinny legs in artificially edited lighting photos.  

And you’re probably wondering, “well, seeing as you’re skinny, why are you still so obsessed with being skinny?”

Well. There is a simple explanation to that - skinny is all I have. I mean sure, I’ve got an irreplaceable and incredibly loving family, the best friends, and I trust in God. I’ve got a 4.0 and I’m starting medical school in a year. But the thing is, skinny is all I have for someone to judge me physically.

We talk a lot about loving yourself and loving your body, but we never talk about loving your skin. Loving your skin, no matter how scarred, how dark, or how acne-cursed.

And that, everyone, is the reason why I am so obsessed with being skinny. It’s all I have going for me. When I meet an older auntie, they always comment on how skinny I am and then lament how dark my skin is and how I’d be so much more attractive if I’d just “stay out of the sun more.”

Everyone can judge the BS out of me for my schooling, my behaviors, and my attitudes. They can tell me that I’ve got a big nose or small eyes. They can tell me I’m ugly cause my skin is dark but they can NEVER tell me that I’m fat. Do you see why it’s so important?

The issues in the Asian community regarding body image shouldn’t be solely concentrated on body size. There are so many factors that contribute to the development of unhealthy self-perceptions. It makes us uncomfortable, so we don’t talk about it. We’re not taught to talk about it. But this blog, this wonderful blog, has opened up so many doors so simultaneously, that I wonder why it’s not out there, everywhere, all over the Internet. We, as young Asian adults, need to see this.

Anonymous

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My parents are Taiwanese immigrants and moved to the states in the late 70s. I am a first generation Taiwanese American. In fact, I just came back from a trip from Taiwan during my winter break from college. God the food was good!

I grew up in a house hold where we didn’t have much.  2 floor house with 3 families (1 on each floor including the basement) Mom would come home tired after work and cook whatever she lugged home from Chinatown all the way back to Brooklyn. Your basic meat, veggies, and rice. I always ate the meat, veggies were for the napkin, and later the trash. No money mean small portions of anything. I would always run upstairs to my grandpa and he’d make me fried rice. I did this for 3 years until 3rd grade. I was now the fat kid in class. 

Fast forward to highschool. I took up weight lifting. Turned some of that fat into muscle and started attracting some girls (not many) and was somewhat happy about having a stable weight. I had a pretty girlfriend, nice friends, and wasn’t doing too bad in school. Then college struck.

I was going to school in the midwest. I suspected that mid-westerners would be more overweight but apparently not. I struggled with the lack of Asian food found near my campus and succumb to eating the American, all day everyday. The only way veggies are done here is either boiled or drenched in butter. Luckily I joined a club(martial arts) which gave me a chance to work out “cardiovascular-ly” instead of just hitting the weights. I could run, I could kick, i could do a split(not really, but kinda) and felt life. My friends around me saw it too when I went back home for my first year in college. Than I quit that club to focus on my studies and social obligations and figured i’d have time later to work on myself. 4 years later, I’ve gained weight and with that some depression on how people looked at me. You can feel that they don’t look at you as a person, not your personality but what your thick dumpling skins says.

My mom would call me:

“Have you eaten yet” would be the first thing she says

“You know if you just lost a couple of pounds, you’d look perfect”

I saw the people in taiwan, and realize how much i dislike skinny jeans. But I did realize when talking to the locals there, their dumpling skin was very thick too. Their “filling” was what was shallow.

I’m working out now, little by little. I have a full engineering course load and little time to myself BUT! I did the math! 

For all your nerds out there. If I included a 2 credit class that I make up called “Have you taken care of yourself?” Then that means homework and studying for that class should be 10 hours a week for 2 credits. That’s all I can invest right now but working out, meditating, and walking around enjoying my city is, like my education, essential to my future. 

There was no lesson to be learned (unless you learned something then good for you!) I just want this for me, turn off the facebook, turn off the netflix, if you have enough room in your tiny apartment do some planks, do some push ups, jog in place. Screw it if your roommate wants to sleep at 2am and you’re trying to do some jumping jacks!

I am an engineering student, I have poor grades, I am a horrible writer.

Anonymous 

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Throughout my childhood and adolescence, weight hardly concerned me. I was constantly active; I swam competitively and ran cross country for four years in high school. Restricting my portions was unheard of; it was crucial to eat in order to fuel the 2-3 hours of grueling practice after school. No one ever commented on my weight, no one ever told me to gain or lose weight. I fit into the smallest sizes in clothing stores, but never thought twice about it. Consequently, the first time I heard a negative comment about my body, it instilled a consuming, parasitic chain of thoughts that would severely compromise my mental and physical health.

During my senior year of high school, I stopped running competitively after I was accepted to my first choice school. Naturally, the muscles lost a little shape and a blanket of fat wrapped around me pleasantly. I was still un-phased by the change and accepted this as a neutral consequence of leaving track behind. I still loved the way I looked, I loved being able to fill in clothes a little more and having plumper, redder cheeks. However, this positive outlook on my appearance would soon become poisoned by the person I least expected: the first person I started dating seriously. All it took was one pinch of my lower stomach, a chuckle, and the words, “you should lose this.” Hearing those words was like crashing into a cement wall. How could I possibly need to lose weight? I’ve been underweight my whole life, but this person must really care about me so this person must be right. 

Love became equated to thinness, achieving the body of the supermodel babes this person always talked about. I no longer became the one to determine how I should look, there was always some he that set the standards. It was a frustrating game that ran around in circles, “You’re too fat. You’re too skinny. You’re not the right kind of skinny. I wish you had more muscles like this girl.” The compliments on my body elicited no satisfaction whatsoever. I honestly did not care that people loved my abs or stick thin legs because I hated what I was doing in order to achieve them. Food and eating became a nightmare. Running, which used to be pleasurable and happy for me, enslaved me to burn more calories and lose more weight. 

I’m now a sophomore in college and am still waging war against negativity in order to reclaim my agency over my body. I’ve finally escaped the abuse and misery of those previous relationships and found someone who refused to interfere with my weight and body image, “I don’t care if you gain 20 pounds, or lose 20 pounds, I’ll still think you’re beautiful.” Even though my first year of college was obscured by unspeakable despair, what I walked away with proves to invaluable. The power of words, especially from those you are trying to please, is enormous. However, no one who genuinely cares about you would push you to achieve impossible expectations in order to gain their acceptance and love. Currently, there is only one love affair I’m pursuing. I hope it lasts a lifetime. I’m trying to fall in love with the most wonderful person I know: myself.

I know what she needs and how to treat her right, she just needs to trust me. I want the best for her. I want her to enjoy those things she used to love so much. I want her to treat her to a cupcake or a nice meal without her feeling guilty afterwards. I want her to be able to run without thinking about how many calories she’s burning. I want her to look at us in the mirror and smile and feel blessed.

Anonymous | New York, NY | USA

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Readers, get involved with NEDAwareness Week through Thick Dumpling Skin by just setting aside ten minutes.

How? Easy! 

We’re doing a call for a SPECIAL set of submissions for NEDAwareness Week, which is happening between February 26th to March 3rd, 2012. 

This year’s theme is “Everybody knows Somebody.” So we’d love to see you share something with that someone.

This person could be yourself, a friend, or even a stranger. You can write a letter, conjure up a haiku, or even scribble a picture. We want anything you can come up with that will give that one person encouragement and hope! 

Need some inspiration? Check out PostSecret, or dig up your diary. We all wrote to ourselves at one point in time! Oh and here are some guidelines on how to share responsibly and tips on talking to friends.

Once these submissions start to come in, we’ll be putting them up day by day during the NEDAwareness Week.

If we want to change the status quo, we all have to be willing to be a part of the movement.

Eagerly awaiting YOUR submission.

- Lisa & Lynn

We received this question from a reader a while back: 

I was diagnosed with depression and readily was given a prescription. The doctor gave me the latest in anti-depressant drug. They worked but noticed a side affect… these made me hungry. Already an emotional eater, being “happy” I would eat. (still with the hungry all the time feeling). Gained weight, told the doctor this particular drug, no way. Prescribed another drug. Figured out I cannot be on these drugs, trying to control emotional eating along with drugs regulating your chemistry in your head. It is a cycle trying to control depression, gain weight, and get depressed about your weight. Found a doctor who said it is ok not to take meds, but in turn need to do other things to control depression. So simple… diet and exercise! Exercise works for me to control it. I have struggled with weight, but the anti- depressants threw it in a tail spin.

Has anyone else had hunger issues with anti- depressants?

Ashley, our resident psychologist, responds: 

Oh, the horrible cycle of medication trials… Going through this process can be arduous and create much physical and emotional turmoil – and this is for a person who was just looking for some relief!

When it comes to eating disorders, physicians often have great difficulty in developing a sound medication plan. The problem, as you encountered, is that some of these medications cause changes in appetite and weight, which is obviously troubling for someone who is trying to recover from these illnesses.

For individuals with bulimia and patterns of compulsive eating, Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors (SSRIs) are a type of anti-depressant that have been shown to be really helpful. Most often, fluoxetine (Prozac) is prescribed. These medications work by reducing some of the obsessiveness, impulsivity, and low mood and energy that’s associated with eating disorders. Addressing these things can make it easier for someone to both feel generally happier and to reduce their use of eating disorder symptoms.

Like you mention, some of these medications do have a side effect of weight gain. SSRIs, however, seem to produce weight gain less often. If you do find that you are gaining weight, it’s important to talk to your doctor. It could be that the medication is not right for you, or it could be that your appetite is restoring (depression reduces appetite often),  you are eating healthfully and your weight is adjusting to where it needs to be.

Unfortunately, these medications don’t seem to help much when it comes to anorexia and food restriction. When someone is malnourished and underweight, it seems that this inhibits the medications from working. Once someone can restore weight through eating regular meals, they might benefit from an anti-depressant if they are still feeling low. Other medications, such as olanzapine (Zyprexa), are being found to be helpful in some under-weight individuals.

If your doctor says that it’s okay not to take medications, then it is important to make sure you are managing your depressive symptoms in other ways. For people without eating issues, exercise and eating differently might be the answer. However, for people with disordered eating patterns, this can be a risk. In fact, exercising too much could also lead to depression, and so could reducing certain food groups (carbohydrates, for instance, are important in keeping your mood up).

The best bet is to be working closely with a team of people who can help you put all the pieces together. You need people who can help manage the medication, support you with nutrition planning, and help you develop tools that you can use to live a life you value. 

- Ashley

Dr. Ashley Solomon is a psychologist who specializes in the treatment of eating disorders, body image, and trauma. She lives in Chicago, where she enjoys yoga, ice cream, her cat, and blogging at www.nourishing-the-soul.com.

You know, I feel like I don’t ask for a whole lot in life. I just want people to shut up more often. Hell, I want me to shut up more often. And weight is a big part of that feeling. No matter how much my parents say that it’s for my own good, I have a hard time believing they don’t privately wish I weighed 130 pounds (just for reference, I am 5’8”). I have a very hard time believing that every time they whip out a weight lecture, the implication of “good” means “not fat” is not there. And obviously, my supposed “lack of confidence” has nothing to do with the constant remarks and judging.

Clearly, my polycystic ovary syndrome and the hormonal imbalance that comes with is completely unrelated, and I’m overweight because I’m a lazy, useless sloth. In the last year, I’ve starting going to dance classes and exercising and it makes me feel really good. I am stronger than I have ever been and I feel pretty fucking great. But I’ve gained weight, not lost it, even though I “look thinner” than I used to be; that’s why it won’t ever be enough for my, nor for their like-minded friends who look at me with a mixture of pity and scorn, and with them I will never stop being the punch line.

Guess what? I don’t give a damn, at all. Coming to that realization is so liberating; it’s like the burden of all those insecurities is starting to be lifted. So that being said:

Dear Judgmental Assholes,

Since that is what you are all so afraid of, I hope you gain 90 pounds and you keep ‘em. I hope you get to be best friends with those 90 pounds, if they’re going to be your constant companions and you can even count on them more than you can count on your friends and family. Hey, I wouldn’t judge you, or make snide, unpleasant comments, or even backhanded comments secretly pretending not to be snide, unpleasant comments, just like I wouldn’t try to constantly make you uncomfortable with your body and hate it.

At the same time, I can’t help but hope that someone else might. I’m a little ashamed of myself for saying this. But maybe then you would understand how much it sucks when everyone around you can only see you for the number on the scale, how you make me feel when you remind me that my weight and my worth have an inverse relationship, and the sting of the ones who love you projecting their own fucked-up perception of beauty and personal insecurities. It makes me sad, because you will never understand that. It will never occur to you that I am beautiful, at home in my own skin, and confident, but I am, just like every other person on this planet, regardless of their weight. If you never realize that, then fuck you.

No love ever,

Cat

P.S. I just ate a deliciously filthy amount of cookie dough in your honor. Just thought you should know.

Cat | USA

I was 17 years old when I first struggled with bulimia.

By then I had a boyfriend who used to be at the national swimming team and was, obviously, a very athletic person. I didn’t used to like doing any kind of physical activity: I avoided gym classes as much as I could in school, and never really liked any sport.

When I was a senior, my boyfriend began to encourage me to do exercises. I guess I felt kind of bad that he didn’t have a girlfriend as athletic as he was. I even got scared that he would dump me for being so lazy and not fitting into his lifestyle, so I got myself into a gym near my house.

During that year, I used to hang out with my group of school friends; there were five of us, all of us really pretty, but mostly really thin as well. I was the only one of of five who didn’t have a rocking body and I used to feel really uncomfortable when we went out. That year specifically, I found it a great idea to start dieting and doing a lot of exercise because it was THE year: senior trip, prom, and more.

One of the five friends used to run a lot. She apparently loved to exercise, and always paid a lot of attention to her body. We became really close that year and we would constantly talk about how much exercise we were doing, diets, ways to lose weight, laxatives, and so on. It was not until she stopped eating at school and started lying about it to us and her family that we talked about it and suspected something was wrong with her. 

Simultaneously, I developed unhealthy habits, consisting of binging and purging myself to lose weight because, unlike her, I didn’t have the “strength” to stop eating. 

Things got really bad for a few months after that. I had the pressure of our senior trip to Cancun on my shoulders, where there would be girls in bikinis everywhere and evil comments from others about each others’ bodies. In addition to the pressure of not gaining weight in order to look “stunning” on our small prom dresses, everything went down hill and it started to become obvious to everyone that both of us had an eating disorder.

By then, I had already bought my prom dress, but I still didn’t feel thin enough despite people’s comments. After we came back from Cancun, every kind of comments came up about our bodies. My parents and my boyfriend became aware of my disorder and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to confront people about it and was so scared of people judging me (specially because people tend to think that girls with eating disorders are just air heads who want to look skinny).

I was referred to a treating center for eating disorders. I had to go several times a week to talk with a psychiatrist, a psychologist and a nutritionist. It was really weird in the beginning to go there and see others who were clearly struggling with disorders as I was, and it was uncomfortable to sit in the meeting when they had to explain to my parents what bulimia was about, and what I was going through. I felt like I had disappointed them, because no parent would want a kid with such problems.

However, time by and I began to feel more comfortable about it. I was no longer in denial with those around me: my family, friends and boyfriend were aware of what was going on with me, and if it hadn’t been like that, I think I would have not been able to go through it by myself. Once I finished treatment, I referred my friend, who was dealing with anorexia, for her to get some help as well.

Eating disorders are not easy to deal with. Once you’re in it, and once you’ve reached bottom, it is when you realize how easy it was getting into it, but just how difficult it is to get out. The hardest part about the whole thing was the moment of accepting and deciding to get help. Once you’re able to do that, as wrong as everything might seem, there is nothing left but to get better and better step by step. No one says it will be easy, but it is an obstacle everyone can overcome.

Today, I’m 19 years old. I still hang out with my best friends from school. I have a boyfriend (not the same one). I’m in college. I live a pretty normal life. Two years after and looking back, looking pictures, and remembering everything that happened, I now know I’m a stronger person. I learned that sometimes our mind can play some ugly tricks on us, and most important of all, I learned to love myself. Today I’m sure that I don’t need to show my ribs, or torture myself with every bite with the foods I like in order for people to like me. I’m much more than a flat belly and an underweight girl. 

It was not easy, but it was possible. 

Ana Maria Hernandez | Miami, Fl | USA

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I had no idea how many of us had similar stories. I thought I was the only Asian girl that missed the “naturally-thin” gene, and there was definitely something wrong with me. In order to be right, I needed to be thin. I thought.

I can’t pinpoint to a specific time when food went from a part of my life to the center of my universe. At age 15, I started senior high school in Taipei. It was a private school that offered the best education and promised the brightest future. I wasn’t into it. Despite the support from my parents, I began to withdraw and isolated myself from everyone. I lied about going to school when I was aimlessly traveling alongside of the busy sidewalk in the city, just to kill time. I kept minimum contact with my fellow classmates because I felt like I had nothing to relate to them. I didn’t understand why studying 16 hours a day was the only way to buy a ticket to this promising bright future-land. 

So, when there was an opening in the cheerleading team, I jumped at the opportunity. I had no interests in cheerleeding, or making friends with anyone on the team. The team practiced during regular class time, which meant I could skip most of the classes, without lying. I embraced this perfect excuse and became a leader of the team. I had no idea what I was getting myself into-crazy girl and boy drama mixed in with teenage-hormones.

I started dating a guy from the basketball team. My first real boyfriend ever. He was tall, smart (not so much, now, looking back), and most importantly, he liked me. He also had a problem with my body; I was chubbier than he liked. He would invite me to lunch and recommend me to order something to drink instead of eating with him. My first relationship - I didn’t know what to expect but I started to wonder about my own body. We never had sex, and he ended up cheating on me with another girl. Of course, this girl was “skinny.” 

I started to diet. I read all the dieting books and bought “supplements’ that were supposed to help. I wasn’t sure what I was trying to accomplish, but I was convinced that being fat was wrong. Everyone noticed my new thinner body. My mom commented on how she was so proud and impressed with my self-control and the fact I was able to skip dinner while feeling hungry. My dad compared me to my other relatives that have always been skinny and said that I started looking more like they were and more lady-like. My friends wanted to know my secrets and, I was popular with the players on the basketball team.

I was dying inside. 

All the dreams I had about my future had been replaced by what I should eat and when I should eat. My time was devoted to find the newest low-calorie food. Food became my life, I was just living in it. I also didn’t know there was such thing as “eating-disorder,” I was just trying to fit in and make everyone proud. I never told anyone about my obsession or drew attention to myself regarding my eating habits. In fact, my brother discovered all the dieting pills in my desk drawer many years later and was confused why they were there. My weight reached to the lowest point, and people were so impressed by how pretty I looked. It’s funny how, sometimes, when people think you have everything together is the exact moment when you feel like things are falling apart on the inside.

When I turned 18 and graduated from high school, I said Goodbye to my loving and supportive parents (who happened to be part of “skinny” worshiping culture) and moved to the US alone. I felt like I was a new person, and free from judgement. Of course, it was an illusion and it only happened because I didn’t know anyone and no strangers were sharing their opinions with me. I ate. I ate like I’d never eaten before. Since I still had the “dieting” mentality, I stuck to veggie-omelet (from Denny’s!), blueberry muffins that I thought were healthy (from the grocery’s store), and fish-fillet sandwiches because fish are good for you! (from Burger King’s; it’s bigger than the one from McDonald’s). My cheeks rounded; my clothes shrank; my people noticed. While I wasn’t close to anyone, my distant relatives came to visit and told me that I must be adjusting to the new environment very well and most be LOVING the American food. My aunt commented on how I should stop gaining weight.

I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror either, but I was seeking comfort in food. It never judged me or told me to stop when I reached my third helping of Chex Mix. I was rewarded by buying more-buy one get one free-of course I had to buy 2 bags, or 4. Besides finding comfort in food, I focused on my part-time job and my studies at a community college.

I dated more and learned more about relationships and sex. Each time, my body image reflected how secured I felt in the relationship. If I wanted to please the guy, I would work hard on losing weight. 

Little by little, as I started to make new friends from different backgrounds and cultures, I noticed more shapes and sizes rather than the mono-size-small-culture I was accustomed. Often, I would get comments like how it must be nice to be one of those people who can eat whatever they want and never gain weight. I would think to myself, “Really? They are talking to me?” Only if they knew that that’s a lie that our culture wanted you to believe. I was just a slave to thinness.

In the next two years, I graduated from college and started graduate school the same year. I was so passionate about my research and felt less self-conscious about other things in life, including my body. I was still a healthy eater and exerciser, but couldn’t afford the time or energy obsessing over it. 

After 5 years, I received my PhD in chemistry and started my postdoctoral job. Of course, family were proud of my accomplishment, but I received more comments about my body and my looks (not positive) despite my attempts to shift their attention to something else. During the first year of my postdoctoral job, my eating disorder came back and went to the next level. I felt alone, isolated, and disappointed in the job situation I was in; I began to binge and purge. It felt disgusting, and I had always thought that when I heard others’ stories, but there I was, completely disgusted with myself. I would do it in secret, so no one would know. Trust me, if you’d known me, you would think I was happy and had my life together.

While I might be able to fool others, I couldn’t fool myself. Not too long, anyway. I saw therapists but gave up before they were actually able to help me. I learned to cope with it on my own, and tried my best to reduce the purging frequency to zero. I did stop purging, but still had a lot of anxiety around food. 

At this point, I had been in a healthy and stable relationship for almost 2 years, unlike my younger self whose body image was a reflection of relationship security, it was now a reflection of career security. In fact, the day I left my postdoctoral job was the day most of my self-abuse food anxiety went away. I don’t want to make it sound like it was some kind of magic, but it was more effortless and natural than anything I had tried. My visions for the future came back and were ready to move forward; I had to make a decision either to get on board or get left behind. Since then, I struggled from time to time, but I no longer felt paralyzed by disordered eating/thinking anymore. 

It has been 16 years since my first encounter with severe disordered-eating, with many many ups and downs along the way. What I learned is that I am who I am and I am fine the way I am. Of course, I am not immune to those comments friends/relatives make about my body as if they have control of me and I must follow what they believe it’s the best for me. But, I’ve learned not to abuse myself and punish my body, because at the end of the day, my body has always been there for me and I choose to always be there for her.

Anonymous | Northern California | USA