Are you gay?

There was a time when I was in my dorm and got a phone call from my mom.
She asked me if everything was ok, how was my study, and I must stay healthy and all...
then suddenly...
Mom: ''Hey..''
Me: ''Yes?''
Mom: ''Are you.... gay by any chance?''

(By gay she meant, lesbian)

I know she was joking, but I didn't expect that one...out of all things.
But I still managed to answer her in a half-joking-half-serious tone, "Of course.......No! Why you asked that?!!! o.O"

She laughed and said that she just talked to my older sis, who happened to wonder about my sexuality since I was in college for awhile but never had a boyfriend.

Now, the weird part is that my mom is actually strict when it comes to her daughters' relationships (Ironically, when she was young, she had boyfriend wayyyy earlier than any of us, not too mention many too!) She always urged us to focus more on books than on boys, but now it seemed like she encouraged me to have a boyfriend!

''Sorry to disappoint you and sis, I don't have a boyfriend and I'm not even interested in that... -long pause- yet'', I answered firmly.

''Oh! ok then good! I jut wanted to make sure...You must focus on your study, then boys can come after than! Ok bye bye'' -hands up-

Hah! I knew it...she was only testing me but I was too smart for that (or rather, I just simply said the truth xD)

Yet her question got me thinking for 1 minute....and till now it popped up in my head while I helped myself getting another bowl of rice (hence here I am sitting here and writing these while eating)...

At times, I'm also confused about myself as well...

I meant, when I was a baby my reputation as a Dolls Destroyer was well-known within the family.
You can say that I was a bit tomboyish; and I can say that I was nothing like my older sister
,who kept her toys, especially dolls , so well that they were as new as the day they were bought.
Unfortunately, once my sister's dolls came to me, they had met their demise...

The expensive walking Russian-as-big-as-a-3-years-old-girl-doll?
I poked her eyes out of the sockets to my mom's dismay.

The electric barking red dog?
I threw him down from the 2nd floor and since then he became the Crippled-electric -barking -red dog.

The barbie doll with long silky brunette hair with jointed elbows and legs?
I gave her a new haircut and handicapped her...

I found my interest in toy cars, catching crickets, lizards, climbing...
It was not a wonder when my mom decided to cut my hair short and dressed me up like a boy..
..and I didn't have a hard time to act like one at all.

2nd grade, I found my best friend's smile so cute and pretty that I wanted to protect her and was willing to beat anyone who made her cry.

5th grade I found myself looking at the girls from my class--observing and analyzing their actions as though I wasn't one of them.

9th grade, I started playing an online game. For some funny reasons, I picked the opposite gender for my character. I thought it was fine as long as I kept everything in the virtual world.
Over times, I met a nice girl and still hid my real identity, real gender.
I got quite attached to her...
A part of me yearned to tell her all about me, about my real self; yet the other part wanted to keep everything hidden.

But the thought of deceiving her further agonized me each day.
I could only either tell her the truth or run away.
In the end, I chose the later option.

10th grade, I cut my hair short. Everyone was surprised at this sudden change in appearance.
Some liked it, others did not.
I personally thought it ok to be more boyish.

Also during 10th grade, a boy asked me out. I liked him, but at the same time, I was afraid.
At the end, I rejected him.
Reason?
''Because I'm not interested in boys''

11th grade, that same boy offered to introduce me to a few of his girl friends, who are 'like me' (he really believed I was les)

Sometimes, I did fantasize myself as a boy and strongly felt that I could be a better boyfriend/lover.
But this fantasy could never become real.

Now I believe that this gender confusion was just a part of my growing up process.

Indeed I was a little more boyish than a normal girl.
I might act tough outside, but it doesn't mean the same for my inside.
I could still cry upon seeing a toughing movie
I also liked cute little things like other girls
And my heart could also beat fast as I felt love..



And mom, even if it were true that I'm gay, it still doesn't change the person I am now
I'm still your child and I still need love like other people.

Next time (if there's one) when you ask, "Are you...gay''
I will answer

Yes, I am gay because I'm enjoying every moment of my life.

------------------------
Just finished my bowl of rice, great timing! =D

Those were the days

While browsing through my email, sent folder, to look for songs, I found this essay that I wrote a long time ago.

It's interesting to relive the experience, the feelings I had as I wrote these.

I shall keep the story here along with my other writings.

Those were the days is a Russian song, which later was adapted to English by Mary Hopkin

Those Were the Days

And I started to walk away from the very land that has nurtured me. I tried to be strong by holding back my tears. As the door was about to close, I caught a glimpse of her-expecting tears to fall down from her eyes, too. But I was wrong. There was not a single tear. Instead, all I saw was my sister’s brilliant smile as she bid me farewell. And then the door closed. She was alone and cold. Did she cry after that? I would never know.

“Attention passengers, the plane is about to take off, please check your seatbelts, and thank you for flying with us. We wish you have a good time.” This was my first time being on a plane, I was both nervous and excited at the same time. At thirteen, I marveled at how we humans created such a machine—that could fly like the birds. As the plane took off, I saw the familiar houses and the streets became smaller and smaller—just like how I would feel being in a foreign country. Mother was already asleep. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. Darkness. I thought, “This is for the best, right?”

It took us roughly two and a half days to fly from Vietnam to Los Angeles, United States. And from there we flew again to Sioux City, Iowa. Then we spent two more hours in the car to reach the small town of Storm Lake. My mother and I went to my step father’s place, and he lived together with a Laos’s family. We settled in the basement of the house. It was dark and cool in the summer.

Because of the different time zone, I was too sleepy to venture around the house at that time. Once I saw the bed, I threw myself on it. And soon, I drifted to sleep. All of the memories suddenly flooded back and entwined into a long dream—from those days I spent with my sister on the beach and I remembered the salty smell that mingled in my black hair, to the day that mother and father went to the big hospital in the Sai Gon City, I sensed something bad was going to happen to our little family. In the dream, I also saw myself looking up to the gray sky and felt the cold raindrops on my face as my sister came and said, “Go home quickly now, father needs you”. Then, I saw my father, as small as a child, had his final breath. Our eyes met and that was it. With that he left a wife and two daughters behind. I also saw myself looking out the window--the sky became dark and started to rain, “Did it cry because it pities me? Because that I became an orphan from now on? Did it feel my pain?” Then I saw myself on that day at the airport, I remembered my sister warm smile as she waved goodbye—she was in college at that time, so she would not come with us. I would cry for her because from now on, she would be alone and on her own. “Did she? Did she cry for me?” I would never know.

I woke up to my mother’s voice. I had slept for a whole day without eating anything. I lost the sense of time, the sense of night and day. It was then I had my first American hamburger. Since I was too hungry, everything was delicious. Of course I did not know back then fast food was unhealthy. As my energy renewed, my curiosity also awaked. Soon, I began to explore the house, the place I would live from now on.

It was an old small house with white paint. Just like other houses in the neighborhood, the house is made up of wood. It’s different because in Vietnam, most of the houses in the city were made with bricks and cement. I found it hard to believe that a wooden house could be so strong and stable. On the left, there was another small house—they said that people would put the car in there at night and it is called “Garage”

The owner was an old Lao’s couple. I remembered the wife was warm and friendly. She spoke broken English and often called me “Baby” every time she gave me food. The husband was quiet and I did not talk to him much since he worked for the whole day. Therefore, I felt comfortable to venture around the house.

There was big garden at the back and it was poorly tended— wild grass was left freely to grow up to my knee. Then, there was another part of the garden where the Lao lady planted her lettuce, spices, tomatoes, and corns. Since it was summer time, I did not start school yet. Thus, I spent most of the time wandering in the garden. I often imagined myself as an explorer and the garden was the mysterious and dangerous Amazon forest. I would saw different bizarre and sometimes, scary creatures like this enormous black spider and her whole net of thousands of small little spiders. I also encountered the gray lizards and occasionally, squirrels. I would play until noon when my mother called for dinner. At night I would venture out the garden again for another mission—to catch fireflies. After I caught a decent number of these amazing creatures, I would turn off the light in my room and lay on the bed. Then I released the fireflies to roam freely in my room. As I lay in complete darkness, little yellow lights from these bugs would blink on and off just like the stars on the sky back home. On and off. On and off. And soon,I drifted to sleep.

Just like that, my summer soon passed and my parents registered me for the local middle school, Storm Lake. On the first day, I woke up very early and took a short walk around the garden. I was excited to see my new school, yet at the same time, I was nervous. I knew basic English phrases such as “Hello, how are you, my name is Trang”, “I’m fine” “Thank you”, so how would I communicate with other kids, let alone making friends with them? Would they laugh at me because of my accent? These questions overwhelmed my mind as I was sitting on the big yellow school bus. The bus stopped at a building somewhat far away from the town’s central, and on top of the building there was a big sign “Storm Lake Middle School.” I followed the other kids through the glass doors into the school. Right before my eyes were wooden chairs and table, neatly aligned in rows, I guessed this where I would eat. As I walked through the long corridor to my homeroom, on the left side I saw a glass cabinet with trophies and pictures of people. On the right side there were posters with strange words. I saw one yellow poster with big green letters arranged into one word, “Future”-- I whispered “Fuu-tro, fuu-tro”

I was introduced to Mr. Brown, a tall, peppered-hair teacher with horn-rimmed glasses. He told me he was in Sai Gon a couple of years ago and that he loved Vietnamese food. I nodded and smiled often because I was unable to create complete sentences to tell him how I miss Vietnam, how nervous and alone I felt in a foreign country, and how I wanted to learn English faster to tell him these things.

In the class, there are other students as well and they knew little English just like me. There were about six Mexican students—all boys, and another one from Cuba. There were two Lao girls, too. I was the only Vietnamese in the class.

American school is different from Vietnamese school a lot. You see, in Vietnam, we just sit in one classroom for the whole day. Every period different teachers would come to the classroom but not the other way around. Here in America, after Mr. Brown’s class, he took me to another classroom, Ms. Z’s. She was a small woman with curly short hair and thin lips. Her eyes were filled with warmth as she welcomed me into the class. We would learn new vocabulary words and Ms. Z would give candies to anyone that can get it right. I also liked her as much as I liked Mr. Brown. I felt more confident as the day passed and I even joked with the teachers. Just when I thought I was alone and no one cared for me, I met these teachers who filled me with new light and hopes. Did I tell you that I knew the meaning of the word “Future” now? I would improve my English so I would be able to make more friends and thus, a better future.

Even though the whole Storm Lake town had only twenty Vietnamese and I was the only Vietnamese in the entire school, the teachers’ warmth and love made me feel welcomed here. Yet soon, I had to leave this place in order to go to a bigger city, Boston to live with my relatives. I heard from mother that there would a lot more Vietnamese there, so I would feel more comfortable. On the last day, I told Mr. Brown and Ms. Z that we had to move to Boston. They gave me a big hug and helped me to get the paper works done. How much I would miss these lovely people, who guided me when I first came to America. How I would miss the garden where I spent the entire summer. And how I would miss the Lao couple and how the Lao lady would call me “Baby” every time she wanted to give me something.

Those were the days I remembered as I first came here. Those were the days that I missed and kept forever in my heart.