Learning to Love Myself | A Transracial Adoptee’s Perspective

For as long as I can remember, I struggled with accepting my physical appearance. I am a transracial adoptee, and my adoptive sister and I are the only Asian people in our family. Our community’s Asian representation was limited. We grew up during a time when the only Asian characters on the television were side characters, nerds and geeks used as punchlines or to enhance the white, main character’s beauty.

From the age of 2, I was a ballerina. When I was 9, I joined a pre-professional ballet company and began training 15+ hours a week until I was 18. Dance was always a wonderful escape where I could channel my energy and emotions into movement. I also spent those hours scrutinizing every aspect of my body in mirrors that covered the entire wall. Society told me that as an Asian ballerina, I needed to be waif-like… I needed a long neck, small head, slender limbs.

I saw the people on TV, in my community, in my family and knew I was different. I endured people making fun of my eyes and in a toxic coping mechanism, reminded myself that the bright side was, I had double eyelids. I wouldn’t need to get surgery. I embraced my sun-kissed, tan skin in the summer because my white friends would comment on how badly they wanted it. I covered up in shame when Asian people would tell me I can’t let myself get so dark.

I spent hours online trying to figure out how to make myself beautiful (read: white). I tried every eyeliner technique to make my eyes look big and less slanted. I researched curling irons and sea salt sprays to get my hair to be more voluminous and wavy. I wondered when puberty would eventually take over and I’d shoot up to 5 foot 8 inches while miraculously staying under 110 pounds.

I never had a biological relative to look at. I never had photos of a family to give me some indication of how I would age. I was living in a world where I despised what I saw in the mirror and no real life example of how to embrace my Asian identity. I didn’t see it anywhere and that taught me it was wrong and ugly.

It wasn’t until I began immersing myself into the world of Asian media and music that I began feeling even slightly comfortable in my own skin. This is not to say we should ignore that many Asian beauty standards are still rooted in Eurocentric features, but consuming media featuring a 100% Asian cast began to normalize how I looked in my own head. I entered a world where Asian characters were main characters, loved, attractive, and idols. I can no longer go back to the media I used to consume because I now see just how much it grew my internalized hatred of myself. I got into the K-pop world via Bangtan Sonyeondon (BTS) and quickly became enthralled with a band that promoted loving yourself and living an authentic life. Now, I spend hours listening to lyrics such as those in Idol: “You can’t stop me loving myself”.

To this day, I’m still not 100% sure what I see in the mirror. I ask my partner if what the mirror shows me is “real” or if it’s one that shows a distorted image of yourself like those found in clothing stores. I look at images of myself and question if the person I am seeing is what the rest of the world sees too. I work hard to get rid of the negative thoughts surrounding my appearance.

When my friends ask me why I spend so much time listening to Asian music if I have to translate the lyrics I’m singing or why I almost exclusively watch K-dramas and C-dramas, I chuckle and say, “Because it’s better than everything else.” To me, it truly is. It’s like finally being given the lessons I needed when I was growing up. It’s a group of 7 BTS members telling me to love myself with albums titled “Love Yourself”. It’s actors in dramas being seen as successful, sexy, confident, and powerful. It’s me seeing these people as beautiful and slowly realizing, that maybe I can see myself the same way.