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Fucking My Oppressors

Here I am, on my knees for a white man.

Throwback to 50 years ago, and the context of this statement would have meant I was about to be beheaded, or shot, or whatever else occurred during the Vietnam war. But it’s 2020, and as the world slowly comes to terms with the breadth of its internalised racism, I’m facing my own conflict. As I stand in the literal face of my oppressors, I begin to analyse how I, an Asian woman, can come to terms with being continuously dominated by white men… in the bedroom.

Let me be clear: sex is sex, and as we begin to call out the hidden racial inequalities embedded within every facet of society, I still find myself faced with my greatest moral dilemma. After years spent educating people on their white privilege and working hard to overcome the hurdle of my own skin colour, I still can’t pull my sexual attraction to follow.

I like to think of myself as a badass Asian chick who eats men for breakfast. Throughout my high school days, I dated only Asian boys, because not only was I attracted to them — I also witnessed too many of my older cousins falling for white men, thinking they were “superior” to our own kind. That somehow they’d succeeded by attaining a white male as a boyfriend, and it used to absolutely infuriate me.

There are countless stories of Western men going to Thailand, Vietnam, Malaysia – practically anywhere women are economically disempowered – and picking locals thinking they can provide them with a better life, as if committing an act of heroism. I hate that shit, but what I hate more are all the girls who look just like me who fall for it. Whether it be in their homelands, or after they’ve immigrated to a Western country, so many fall victim to this incredible white saviour who has come to rescue them.

Just think about all the Asian-white couples out there. I bet the majority of the ones you know are between a white man and an Asian woman. Think about all your mixed friends – is it the dad or the mum who is the Asian one?

Maybe I’m just a hater – an angry single chick. I’m sure many of these couples genuinely do have true love. But I’m fucking my oppressors. I’m attracted to men whose ancestors killed mine. Attracted to men who may just have a kink for small Asian girls. Attracted to men who might have “yellow fever”, and it’s an understatement to say I feel weird about it. By exercising my right to live how I please, I fear I feed into this fantasy of white men rescuing what they perceive to be submissive Asian women.

However, with the climate that we’re currently in – the throes of a revolution – I’m hoping more people are coming to terms with their internalised racism and the way in which their skin colour has afforded them advantages. I can’t do much about my sexual attraction, nor my desire to be submissive within the confines of sexuality, but I assume I can choose partners who are socially and culturally aware.

At the very least, I think that I can help the world continue to improve. Perhaps I’ll begin to educate my hook-ups about how their existence has not made mine very easy, and if they seem to be learning, that could be the green light to progress further.

I guess I’ve just talked myself into my next hook up. Here goes me, off to fuck my oppressors.

Cover by Cris Trung 

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Astray is based out of Lenapehoking / New York City: the homeland of the Lenape. Specifically, we’re in Manhattan: a name that comes from Mannahatta, meaning “island of many hills”. As grateful guests in this city, we recognize the strength and resilience of the Lenape, and extend our reverence to all Indigenous peoples everywhere. This acknowledgement comes from our commitment to working against the ongoing legacies of settler colonialism.