Tag:tomboy

I have no patience for euphemisms. Let’s call it what it is: son preference–driven sex selection. Not “family planning.” Not “balancing.” Not “just one boy.” When a fetus is aborted because it is female, that is discrimination before a girl even takes her first breath. I actually welcomed the Supreme Court’s blunt words. When judges describe sex-selective abortion as a “crude manifestation” of discrimination, they are not being dramatic. They are being accurate. This isn’t about technology. Ultrasound machines don’t hate girls. Patriarchy does. I’ve lived across Asia long enough...

I used to be “the tomboy.” Short hair, oversized shirts, permanently scuffed sneakers, and an attitude that said, “Don’t even try.” Aunties clucked. Teachers sighed. Boys were confused. Girls were curious. Back then, in our corner of Asia, “tomboy” was the label that made everyone feel safer. It explained me without really explaining me. It suggested a phase. A rebellion. A detour before the proper road of husband, children, respectability. Well. Plot twist. I am now a thoroughly middle-aged, unapologetically bisexual Asian woman with excellent skincare, better politics, and zero...

Oh boys. Come sit next to Auntie for a minute. Let’s talk about that little orange flame lighting up half of East Asia after midnight. Every time someone writes about Grindr in Seoul, Tokyo, Shanghai, or Taipei, the tone swings wildly between panic and romance. It’s either “moral decline!” or “digital liberation!” As usual, the truth is much messier—and far more human. What fascinates me is not the hookups. Asia has had cruising parks, bathhouses, back alleys, karaoke rooms, and discreet “business trips” long before smartphones. Desire did not arrive...

Let me tell you something nobody says out loud at the family reunion: inheritance in South Asia is not about love. It’s about land, power, and who is considered permanent. I have sat in living rooms from Kathmandu to Kolkata, from Lahore to Colombo, where daughters were praised as “the pride of the family” — until property came up. Suddenly the language changes. Suddenly there is talk of kul (lineage), of “keeping land within the bloodline,” as if daughters are somehow temporary visitors in their own childhood homes. We love...

Oh, the panic. The hand-wringing. The dramatic sighs about “the end of masculinity” because a few young men are buying BBクリーム and learning how to shape their eyebrows. Sweethearts, please. If a little concealer can topple your entire concept of manhood, the problem is not the concealer. Men wearing makeup is not the apocalypse. It’s skincare with better marketing. I have watched this shift unfold for years across Asia. From visual kei rockers with unapologetic eyeliner to today’s soft-spoken office workers dabbing on ベースメイク before work, the message is not...