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When I think of plastic surgery, I imagine a paper woman. She has cut-out lines under her eyes, down the bridges of her nose, and round the edges of her slender jaw. A pearly white smile is plastered on her lips, and her eyes twinkle as if she holds the secret to eternal beauty. But what is eternal beauty? Many believe you can only achieve it on an operating table. I guess a part of me has always wondered whether plastic surgery was in line with my feminist beliefs. I’d be lying if I said I’ve never considered it, especially during my younger years when the mirror was both my best friend and worst enemy.

How I slowly grew out of shaming my hobbies, and why we shame girls for having hobbies.

“You’re such a girrrrrl”
“I am a girrrrrl”
“You’re such a GIRRRRRL”
“I am a GIRRRRRL”

Hello, and welcome to another installment of ‘Hannah using Dear Asian Youth Literature as free therapy before she accumulates enough savings to get a therapist’. This 60-minute session will be a personal account about how I was shamed for liking Boy Bands with further discussion about how society loves to shame girls for having hobbies that may or may not involve boys. Whoohoo! Fun!

Listen, dear readers, there once was a story,
Filled with magic and marvels and whimsy and wonder,
One of trials and hardships, of success and glory.

“Noo,” she says with a whine that’s high and pitchy and scrapes at my nerves.

Staring down at my little sister who’s half my height but somehow twice as loud, I breathe in carefully, tamping down on any feelings of irritation and anger. She’s six. I’m twelve. I need to be mature.

“Okay,” I say slowly with faux calmness. I’ve already learned by now that getting angry at my little sister never ends well. “What do you want me to do?”

She scowls at me, hands balled into half formed fists as she twists her lips in frustration. “I don’t know!” she shouts, hands now fully clenched. “Just, just do something!”

in dreams i stand
barefoot, soul bearing
bear the brief bittersweet
baring teeth, bare
back against the earth
bear its weight on my back –
(it’s) heaving, spitting
(i’m) drowning, living

The power of TikTok is a force to not be reckoned with, second only to BTS stans. As a platform, it allows for a quick rise to fame for new artists, the sell-out of previously underrated products, and most importantly, the attention brought to various social causes. In particular, #FreeBritney started trending after TikTok user ‘blueshoulderpads’ commented on Britney Spears’s video that if the popstar needed help to “wear yellow in [her] next video.” This comment was one of the top ones due to the thousands of likes it initially received and the influx of more after Britney posted an Instagram video of her dancing in a yellow crop top along with another post of her in it captioned: “[y]ellow is my favorite color.” 

isn’t it curious

how desperately we try to leave ourselves behind

our lives are nothing but filling up vessels

hoping that something (someone) can contain us completely

and us, the source,

flowing until our very last breath

“I think I can make it through today,” he whispers,

“if I move slowly.”

As if he is wading into a lake, hoping

that the depths will not consume him,

even when it feels like he’s freezing.