I grew up with good enough food to eat, spent many hours outside, enjoyed my play time with friends and made core memories that I bring with me until adulthood. You can say I was physically healthy and tanned, all signaling the best things a kid could have, but I guess that wasn’t what the Chindo adults in my life were thinking of. 

I was barely seven when they pulled out the word “pui” (肥, fat) when they referred to my cute chubby features. I wasn’t obese, I didn’t overeat. I was just a well-fed, healthy kid. The tanned, healthy skin I got from playing outside immediately becomes a reason for them to come up with a new insult “oo” (烏, black), as if I have stained myself with something. 

All grown up Chindo women in my life, including my own mother, have constantly told me fat, chubs, too dark, and I need to work on my body when I can barely multiply numbers. I was constantly told to lose weight with the idea that my beauty matters for a brighter future, as if it’s an asset worth investing from an early age and it will determine my desirability as a woman. “Kha san e” (lit. “be skinnier, can you?”) was probably chanted more often than “I love you” and “study hard”. 

Childhood from that point sucked. My whole identity became that “fat, tanned” little girl who needed a serious diet and makeover. Teenage phase was just the worst. As my body changed, I hated it more. I started to believe what everybody said was true. I convinced myself that I’m just not born to be beautiful and I will have to make up for this flaw for the rest of my life. 

I hated my uneven Asian eyelids. I hated the flat nose my parents gave me. I hated the plump lips I inherited from my dad. I hated the hourglass hips that looked like my mom’s. I hated my bloated belly that came from my ovulation’s luteal phase. I didn’t ask for these, and yet I was told that I have to work it out so it can fulfill others’ impressions of me. 

My college days saved me from these dangerous constructs. If I hadn’t had serious conversations with women my age on unrealistic womanhood ideals in our cultures, I wouldn’t have figured out how to detach myself from these ridiculous Chindo beauty standards imposed on me. And yet, even after reclaiming my confidence and self worth as a fully-grown adult, they still won’t stop. 

It’s unsettling to realize how not only the Chindo adults from your family fell under this propaganda fostered by the patriarchal demands on them, but also your own close friends and social media figures you see on your phone everyday. 

Now it looks like we need yoga or pilates to keep our body looking so tea. Maybe a monthly manicure pedicure, and lash extensions to hide our monolids and pop our slanted eyes a bit more. We gotta grow our hair longer and color them brunette or blonde to stand out like some sort of Chindo “it girls”. 

And maybe we need a facial every few weeks because our faces are the only canvas they see. A HIFU treatment for a mewed jaw, a botox perhaps because your face gotta look as snatched as possible because the genetically round face shape apparently is not a vibe. Maybe even a nose job so you can fix that orientally flat shape. It’s endless. 

I despise my own culture’s perception of women. I hate that we are normalizing this, as if this is the definition of womanhood that we have accepted as our mandate. I hate that my own mother and aunties made me believe in this self-loathing propaganda.  

I feel bad for them as a fellow Chindo woman, because they may have been told the same by their mothers (my ah mas) and couldn’t do anything as much as my folks and I do today. But I find it hard to forgive them as parents who made me dive into the path of self-destruction and long term self-questioning. 

I still carry that hate as it scarred my heart, my being, and my hope and pride in Chindo culture. While I am already in a place where I celebrate my own body and have fully accepted all my beauty and flaws, in reality the chance of leaving unrealistic Chindo beauty standards behind is still insanely slim. Capitalism has played a huge part in making it strongly rooted in every Chindo woman’s life conditions—that they are the primary needs in their womanhood. 

But I am not falling for this propaganda anymore. Your monolids are unique, even if drawing eyeliners is a pain in the ass. Your round cheeks and nose are beautiful, the features amplify the smiles you give to others. Your body shape is gorgeous, regardless if it fits cheongsam or not. Your skin is beautiful, people are just jealous of your shade. Your belly is cutesy, so fuck their opinions about your obsession with samcan and bakmi komplit.