“Girls Will Be Happy If They Get Married Crying.”

Warning: Very emotionally tense videos ahead.

This is a video of a group of Black Hmong in Sapa, Vietnam. The young girl is being dragged by men who are practicing what we call zij poj niam—in other words, bride-napping.

I first saw this video circulating the social network sites at the end of last year. And now it has been uploaded and shared again, this time probably by a different YouTuber since the original video has been privated. When I first saw it, I was enraged and appalled at such abusive and traumatizing cultural practice. Then my heart ached and I cried for the helpless young girl.

Bride kidnapping was a very common practice when I was growing up in the 90’s. People are surprised when I tell them that this happened in the United States. Momma and Grams would warn me never to go with any man for fear that they would bride-nap me. That was one of the reasons why I never dated older men when my friends were dating men 10 years their senior. I was too scared that in a swift moment, I would be carted off and never see my family again.

I used to hear about it a lot. It happened to many Hmong girls who lived in the same town as I did. It is disturbing when you see it in Hmong movies. And it is horrifying when you see it happening to a person, even if you don’t know her—even if you’re only viewing it online, in the comfort of your home.

When a Hmong man zij a bride, it is customary that the groom’s family give the bride 3 days to make her decision. She has the choice to go back to her family if she wants to. Just because a man zij a bride, it doesn’t mean that he automatically gets to marry her. The wedding will not take place until the wedding negotiations are discussed nor is the wedding date set until the bride and her family agrees to the marriage.

However, how often do you think that a kidnapped bride returns home? From all of the people that I knew who were bride-napped, zero came home. Many simply do not know that they have the right to return home. They believe that they have no other choice, but to marry the man who kidnapped them. Many are manipulated (usually by other women) into staying. If a kidnapped bride returns home, she will bring shame upon her family. She should be happy to marry a man who wants her so bad that he resorts to kidnapping. In most extreme cases, some kidnapped brides are raped so they have no other choice but to stay because they are no longer “pure” or “innocent.”

Comments for the video varied. Most people criticized the Hmong community for practicing such a custom and allowing it to live through the generations. Many others criticized those who criticized this practice. Many commented on the bystanders, some asking why no one helped the young girl, some responding that no one intervened because zij poj niam is the norm. Some stated for the Western Hmong to stop criticizing when we don’t live in their world and do not understand their lifestyle.

The young bride-napped Hmong girl grew up in such a culture where zij poj niam is the norm. Maybe the actions of the bystanders shouldn’t matter to me because I can understand that they grew up in a place where this is normal. However, as much as I would like to say, “It’s the cultural norm and custom for the Hmong. Why should I impose my western ideals and perspective on these people,” I see the crying and screaming young girl who refused to go with these men. In the act of pulling her, they literally took off her clothes and it seems like she just gave up at the end. They are violating her human rights to say no to a marriage she does not want. And that is why I see this practice in such negativity. It’s not that I’m too “Americanized” to embrace my culture because even this “non-Americanized” girl does not appreciate or want any of this.

The Hmong are not the only group that practice bride-napping. A country known for bride-napping is Kyrgyzstan. It seems that the customs for bride-napping and wedding negotiations are similar to those of the Hmong.

Bride-napping reminds me of the cave men cartoons I used to watch during my childhood. The cavemen would drag the women by the hair to their caves. Sometimes I wonder why men would go through such extremes just to get a bride. Why do they have to violate another human being? It doesn’t take much to court/date a girl, make her fall in love with you, and then marry her. The top two reason I’ve heard from people as to why some Hmong men would resort to bride-napping are that they cannot pay the full bride-price or the girl refused to marry them. First of all, if you cannot afford to pay a bride-price for a bride, maybe it’s not time for you to get married. Secondly, if a girl doesn’t like you and doesn’t want to marry you, don’t you think it’s a good idea to leave her alone?

The English statement that one of the kidnappers made to the tourists at the end of the Hmong bride-napping video seem to depict zij poj niam as something to be proud and boastful about. He happily greeted them with “Hello!” then proceeded to say, “This is the tradition of kidnapping a wife.”

My maternal grandfather zij Grams on her way to the farm. Her girlfriends did not intervene for fear that my grandfather’s friends would zij them too. When I asked how my grams felt about it, she simply stated that even though she was scared, she couldn’t do anything about it. She didn’t kick and scream like the young girl. They grabbed her by her arms and pulled her. She protested and resisted the whole way to my grandfather’s house. She married my grandfather because she felt she didn’t have a choice and also felt that it was her destiny.

Does that mean that I should be glad that my grandfather zij Grams? Because if he hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t be here today to comment on the barbaric nature of bride-napping. Sometimes I wonder about my grandmother and mother’s generations and how bride-napping was so common then. During my Grams’ generation, divorce was unheard of and even if you were bride-napped, you just learn to love and make it work. According to my Grams, my grandfather was a patient man and loved her dearly. He never raised his voice at her. But then again, maybe my Grams’ marriage is an exception.

So, do we, the Hmong in the United States, still zij poj niam? I don’t know. I can say that the stories of young girls being bride-napped that I hear has dwindled down to only one every couple of years. Maybe I’m just not in-tuned with my Hmong community. Maybe the Hmong has come to fear the laws of this land. Or maybe our younger generation realize the barbaric nature of bride-napping and have come to desire love before marriage.

Mi Tes Mi Taw (Hands and Feet)

I felt a lot of emotions watching “Mi Tes Mi Taw” directed by Porsha Phoua Chang. She did a wonderful job telling a story that many of us can identify either with the son, daughter, mother, or daughter-in-law.

One of the themes of this short film is gender roles within a traditional Hmong family. I’ve blogged about gender roles many times and you all probably know where I stand. What you see in the film is what we experience or what our culture tells us we have to do. The daughter of a family is viewed as an outsider once she gets married and leaves her family’s home. The son is expected to show filial piety and care for his aging parents until they pass on.

Sometimes, because of traditions and customs, it’s hard for the married daughter to take care of her birth parents when her brothers cannot or will not. Much of what she can do is stand by the sideline and hope that her brother(s) will love her parents. Additionally, for the same reason, the brother feels obligated to do everything for his parents, putting them above all else. You can imagine what a burden it can be for him. The parents feel hopeless and rely on their sons and daughters-in-law. And because she is not her birth mother, a daughter-in-law may not be able to show love to her husband’s mother as how society wants her to even if she is doing her best.

In this day and age, traditions and customs should not hold a daughter from loving her parents. I have heard many sisters tell their brothers and sisters-in-law that there’s nothing they can do about their aging parents because of Hmong traditions. Sometimes, I wonder if that’s truly the case or if it’s just an excuse.

It can be overwhelming for a man when he is given the responsibility of being the the head of the household. He feels obligated to care for his parents, siblings, wife, and children. And in a family where there’s many differences, he may feel torn. He loves his wife, but he also loves his parents. It’s unfair to him when both sides are pulling at him, making him choose between the people he loves. And with no one to help him, he will tire, leading him to make “bad” and “selfish”choices.

Mi Tes Mi Taw Screenshot
Screenshot of “Mi Tes Mi Taw” by Porsha Chang.

The idea of putting one’s aging parents in a nursing or retirement home is unheard of. The main reason is that your parents shed flesh and blood to bring you to this world. Many families still follow the Confucian value of filial piety. You respect and love your parents. You do not—I repeat—you do not put your parents in retirement homes.

We can love our parents, but we have to be practical. First of all, I will not allow traditions to define what I can and cannot do. If my mother doesn’t have a home and she comes knocking on my door, I’m not going to say, “Sorry, Momma. Due to Hmong traditions, there’s nothing I can do for you.” If I truly don’t want her in my home, I should be honest with her and tell her that I do not want her there, not because of some traditions that were put in place thousands of years ago. Sometimes I feel many people use tradition as an excuse for their behavior. They use traditions at their discretion and convenience. Blah for them…

And of course, there is the issue of kev cai dab qhuas, wherein a married daughter worships different ancestors from her parents. This can be a problem if two people with different dab qhuas (ancestors) live under one roof. But it’s not a big deal unless you make it one, am I right?

Secondly, if things come to a point where I feel taking care of my sick mother is affecting me emotionally and/or physically, I’m going to get the best care for her. Professionals are more apt to care for aging parents than I would ever be. Just because I put my mom in a nursing home, it doesn’t mean that I don’t love her. I know my limits and care enough to know that my mom will receive better care with professionals. I would feel more at ease knowing that there’s someone there for her throughout the day, than to be constantly worried when I’m at work 8 hours a day.

As a parent, I do not expect my children to care for me when I’m old and wrinkly. When the time comes that I need assistance, I will find professional help, not burden my adult children. The only expectation I have of them is if they do decide to become parents, to show their children unconditional love and be the best parents they can be without expecting anything in return.

Sometimes parents expect too much out of their children that they do not see how their expectations affect them. Do we love our children enough to give them their own lives and space? Did we give them life so they can care for us or so they can have life?

Screenshot from "Mi Tes Mi Taw" by Porsha Chang.
Screenshot from “Mi Tes Mi Taw” by Porsha Chang.

We live in a world where we no longer have to follow traditions, where we can make our own traditions. Traditions were set during a time when it was needed. Gender roles made a household functional and efficient. However, we now live in a world where there is help if we need it, where we don’t have 10 children, where we don’t work long days in the fields, where aging parents have a place to go.

What are your thoughts? Do you still believe in traditional roles of siblings as stated in “Mi Tes Mi Taw?” What do you think about putting the elderly in nursing homes? Would you expect your children to care for you during your golden years?

A Hmong Wife’s Role

I came upon this scan of a Hmong text in a forum.  The original poster had stated that this reading material was used in a Hmong class at Washington Tech High School in Saint Paul, MN. It created great dislike within this group of Hmong women.

Ib tug niam tsev Hmoob lub luag hauj lwm.
Ib tug niam tsev Hmoob lub luag hauj lwm.


A Hmong wife’s responsibility is to oversee everything in the home. She needs to make sure there are groceries (water, rice, veggies) and that the home is kept clean and there are plenty of pots and dishes.

A Hmong wife’s responsibility is to take care of the children. It is only for the duration of a month after she gives birth that her husband provides chicken (boiled chicken with herbs soup for postpartum care) for her. After the month is over, she would need to cook for herself and care for others in the home.

A Hmong wife needs to pack lunch for her husband to take to work. It has always been that the husband never packs lunch for the wife nor does he do her laundry because he “lost” money to marry his wife, and the husband has more honor than his wife. The wife needs to do everything for her husband that he desires and asks of her.

This is the first time I’ve read something that provides a guideline on how a Hmong wife should behave. Growing up, I’ve always heard others tell me how I needed to act to become the “ideal” Hmong wife and be the “perfect” Hmong daughter-in-law. When I tell other Hmong individuals my experience, some tell me that it’s not Hmong culture; it’s just my family or the people I am around with. Seeing this on paper, or on screen, validates that it is real. That it’s not just my family who believes a Hmong wife should behave this way.

While I read this, I thought, “Okay. This is doesn’t really work for all families today, but if it works for you, then go for it.” There are many stay-at-home moms who do embrace the role of being the nurturing wife and mother, who do not have an issue with following the traditional gender roles of a Hmong family structure. And I, myself, do care for the home, make sure my family is fed, and my children are well taken care of. Nothing wrong with that.

And then I got to the last paragraph.

I wonder who wrote this text to include that a man loses (yes, the term  this person used was “xiam” which translates “to lose” so don’t give me crap about how I’ve misconstrued the meaning of the text) his money when he marries his wife and because of that she needs to do everything he wants her to.

The discussion of the bride price has always been a controversial topic within the Hmong community (online and offline). Many understand how it perpetuates violence against Hmong women because it creates a setting where money is exchanged for a woman.

Others argue that it does not—that feminists are just making a big deal out of a harmless tradition that actually puts value on marriage and a woman. Despite the arguments, reality is many Hmong people (not all) do believe that because a man gave money to the bride’s family for her hand in marriage that she belongs to him, as stated in this reading material.

My question is, what was the purpose of this reading assignment? Was it to compare and contrast an old-world view and modern view of a Hmong wife? Or was it just to practice reading in Hmong? If it is the latter, then other reading materials would’ve sufficed.

So, what’s the big deal? It’s just a piece of reading paper!

It is reading material for high school students. Teachers need to be aware of what they’re teaching their students. I would not like it if my kids came home and told me that their teacher had them read about how to be a Hmong wife. And being a responsible parent, I would discuss with my children about the ideals of what was written in this reading assignment and how it may not relate to modern all Hmong women.

Even if parents teach and talk to their children about these things, is it still appropriate for a teacher to assign such reading materials? Does it make a difference if the teacher’s purpose was not just to read the text, but to discuss its contents and how students believe it does or does not relate to Hmong women today? It seems to me as if this is really outdated reading material. Just imagine how long this text has been circulating since publication and how many people it has influenced to believe that since a husband exchanged money for his wife, insinuating she is his property, she needs to do as he desires.

Hmong Beauty

Hmong Beauty Project (Huenha Photography)
Hmong Beauty Project (Huenha Photography)

One question  I get asked a lot growing up is, “What is Hmong?”  It was annoying, but I have grown to live with it and answer it accordingly to how I feel at the moment and by whom.

Another question I get asked as much is, “Are you really Hmong?”

The former is asked by those who do not know about the Hmong.  The latter is a question posed by those who know just enough to have formed a negative opinion on Hmong beauty, or lack thereof.  Let me explain.

I don’t remember how this conversation started, but in college, a male classmate ranted to me about how ugly Hmong girls are.  “They’re short, fat, and dark.  They have pig noses and chinky eyes.”

Hmmm, I thought to myself.  Am I going to let this go?  I looked over to my friend.  She smiled because she knew what I was about to do.

Being the witty person that I occasionally am, I asked, “Are they all really that ugly?  All of them?”

“Yes, all of them.  I have never seen a pretty Hmong girl!”

“So, do you think I’m pretty?”

“Oh, you’re more than pretty.  You’re beautiful.”

I giggled.  This is going to be good.

“Are you being completely honest right now or just trying to flatter me?”

“Why are you changing the topic?  I am not lying to you; You’re beautiful.  If you weren’t married, I would’ve made my move on you already.”

“Just so you know, I am Hmong,” I said as I sat back to wait for his reaction.

Hmong Beauty Project (Huenha Photography)
Hmong Beauty Project (Huenha Photography)

He was completely blown away.  He didn’t believe me.  He kept insisting that I was lying to him and kept on asking what ethnicity I really am.  He thought I was Chinese.  Chinese women are beautiful, he said.  I have to be Chinese.  He asked my friend if I was Hmong.  Yep, she’s 100% Hmong, my friend replied.  And then my classmate remarked, “You’re too beautiful to be Hmong.”

I don’t know about you , but this comment gets to me.  The person stating this is complimenting you on your beauty.  Take it as it is or—if you’re like me (and some others)—take it offensively.  Why?  Because this comment implies that Hmong people (or Hmong women, for that matter) are too plain or ugly to be considered beautiful, and you are the exception.  But why should you be offended?  They’re telling you that you’re beautiful.  I know, but they’re also implying that my ethnic group, as a whole, is ugly.  I don’t know where they’re looking, but I know and see many many beautiful, gorgeous Hmong women (and men).  We are not ugly.

One of my dear friend’s father was shocked when he found out (after 7 years of us being friends) that I am Hmong.  He said, “You’re not like the Hmong people I see.  They’re short and hunched back because they have to carry the bamboo baskets on their backs.  You’re tall.”  Not really; I am only 5’3″.

With all the comments I’ve received over the almost 3 decades of my life, I’ve compiled a description of how a Hmong woman should look like: short, fat, dark-skinned, hunched-back with a porky nose and chinky eyes.  This is the epitome of Asian ugly, isn’t it?  If you ask any Asian what it is to be physically ugly, most likely they would say one or all the characteristics mentioned above.  So does that mean that the Hmong is the ugly of the Asian race?

Hmong Beauty Project (Huenha Photography)
Hmong Beauty Project (Huenha Photography)

While searching the WWW to see if I can find an article on this topic, I came across Elmo Lee’s Hmong Beauty Project.  Elmo is a beauty and fashion photographer, known as Huenha Photography.  Her artwork is stunning.  I remember I started following her and her sister, Milly, way back when I was still on Myspace and their photography was called NaturalBlush.

The Hmong Beauty Project is to show people that Hmong women are beautiful.  Elmo states on its website that:

It’s not uncommon to hear Hmong women being told they’re too beautiful to be Hmong or that their beauty resembles another ethnic group.  My response to that is that Hmong women are as beautiful as any other ethnic group and none of it is a coincidence or an accident.  This in essence is the motivation and purpose of my photoshoot which showcases the beauty of Hmong women as individuals whose beauty is unique to herself.

I agree.  Hmong women are as beautiful as any other Asian ethnicity.  It does not do us any justice when others say that we, as a whole, are ugly.  We’re all individuals, and although we may have similarities, we’re beautiful in our own ways.

With Elmo’s permission, I have posted some of the Hmong women she has photographed on here.  This is a new project, which started at the beginning of this year, so it only has 8 women so far.  I cannot wait to see how it develops.

Hmong Beauty Project (Huenha Photography)
Hmong Beauty Project (Huenha Photography)

When I asked Elmo what sparked her Hmong Beauty project, she replied:

Whenever I stumble onto a pretty girl’s picture, it’s never a surprise to see at least one comment like this: “You are so beautiful. You look like a Thai/Korean/etc girl;” “You are pretty for a Hmong girl.”  It’s a compliment, but at the same time, it’s an insult; as if looking Hmong or being Hmong is a bad thing…. Just a few weeks ago, one of my cousins met my friend from out of state.  My cousin thought my friend wasn’t Hmong simply because she thought my friend was beautiful and that she doesn’t look Hmong.  This is exactly why I did the project.

I want to point out that I hear this “You’re too beautiful to be Hmong” remark within our Hmong community as well.  Growing up, I have heard too many comments on how Chinese women’s beauty trump Hmong women.  My father used to always say that Chinese women are the most beautiful in the world.  And it wasn’t uncommon to hear from other Hmongs—especially the older generation—that a Hmong woman is as beautiful as a Chinese maiden.  Elmo stated the same thing, “Zoo nkauj li nas ej Suav.”  I feel that this comparison has a lot to do with our not-so-good history with the Han Chinese.  My father used to spill Hmong propaganda that the Chinese kidnapped all the beautiful Hmong women to be their wives and that was why the Chinese are more beautiful than the Hmong (Really, Dad?).  And then, there is the media.

Elmo stated that she has made similar statements and feels guilty about it.  “Why do we think like this?” she asked.  Her conclusion (it’s not silly, Elmo) is:

We don’t have Hmong celebrities or “beautiful” popular Hmong idols to reference to.  Look at it this way, we don’t have our own country.  Before coming to the USA, we were simply farmers.  The Hmong entertainment industry isn’t like the mainstream here or anything near kpop/jpop.  We’ve only been in the United States for 35-40 years.  Our skills/expertise in whatever area are still poor. Yes, we’re improving, but we have a long way to catch up…. We have talents and skills.  We’re just not there yet because before all this, all we knew was farming, how to be a wife, have kids, dedicate our life to our in laws, etc.

It hasn’t been until in the past decade or two that the Hmong entertainment industry has immensely progressed.  With the help of technology and education, Hmong film-makers have created dynamic movies that have gained a lot of attention within the community.  And with this comes Hmong actors and actresses.  We now see beautiful Hmong women on-screen—something we have never seen before.  Additionally, many talented Hmong bands and artists have also emerged.  Hmong non-profit groups, such as CHAT are empowering individuals to express their artistic  and creative sides.  Hmong community events (that I can think off the top of my head), such as the Hmong Music FestivalFresh Traditions, and Revived, have showcased talented and beautiful Hmong people.  Prior to this, besides American celebrities, we had Asian stars to idolize.  We’re getting there, but are we there yet?

Hmong Beauty Project (Huenha Photography)
Hmong Beauty Project (Huenha Photography)

According to my observations, personal experiences, and what I hear from other Hmong women, I agree with Elmo that we still have some ways to go.  Society still believes that Hmong women are ugly and to be beautiful must mean that we are not Hmong.  How long will it take to have society realize our beauty?  How much will it take for the Hmong to embrace and claim the beauty of our women?  We are Hmong beauty.

My Mermaid (Part 3)

This post is part of the My Mermaid series.
Click on the links below to take you to previous posts:
Part 1
Part 2

I couldn’t tell him face to face what happened.  So I left him a note in our locker.  “My mom hit me last night.  It wasn’t because of you.”  I lied about the latter.

When I went to the locker at the end of school, he wasn’t waiting for me as he usually did.  Instead he left a note addressed to “Innocent Barbie (He called me Barbie back then).”  “Nobody touches my girl,” the note was written in furious handwriting.  We didn’t see each other that evening.  The next morning at school, I found another note from him.  This one was a lot calmer.  “When did your mother start abusing you?  If you don’t want to answer, it’s okay.”  I never told him.

Life at home started to become unbearable.  In addition to the arguments about my boyfriend and the beatings I went through, because I was becoming of age, my mom was trying to groom me into the ideal Hmong daughter: submissive, cook, and keep the house clean.  My high school had the International Baccalaureate Program (IB) and I was enrolled in it part time, taking IB English and science classes.  The IB program had a strong and challenging curriculum, so it was a struggle to juggle school with the domestic demands at home.  My mom and I were constantly arguing over me being lazy and not behaving like other “good” Hmong daughters.

I wished to participate in extracurricular activities, but my mom wouldn’t allow me.  She stated that a girl’s role is in the home, not out running around like the boys.  So, I did what I needed to do; I lied to her when I joined the dance production team my sophomore year.  Instead of taking conventional PE classes for graduation requirement, I chose dance because it would be easier, I told her.  (It was partly true.  Dance was a PE option, but that wasn’t the reason why I wanted to join).  And that was how I got into Company MHS—my only active extracurricular activity throughout high school.

MB’s dance headshot 2003

I knew my mom was being very strict on me because she feared I was walking down the same path as her when she was my age.  My mom was also afraid I would shame her.  The Hmong community was already expecting me and my siblings to fail.  I am the oldest of 7.  If I fell down a destructive path, my siblings would follow suit.  My mom didn’t want people to talk any more than they were.  So, she thought that by restricting our freedom, we would be “good” children and not ruin the tiny shreds of reputation she was clinging on to.

However, I didn’t care about gossip, reputation, or saving face.  I only wished that my mom would just trust me and my judgment.  So, the more restrictive she became, the more I rebelled against her traditional ways and stood up for myself.  Our frequent arguments and fights pushed me further and further away from my mom and my culture.

I wasn’t the only one affected by my mom’s urgency to control her children.  My younger brother ended up moving to live with our father for a couple of years because of the disagreements between them.  My younger sister attempted suicide and spent 72 hours in a behavioral center years later.

My boyfriend became my pillar of support.  He was there for me when I needed someone.  I hardly spoke about what went on at home because I was embarrassed and ashamed.  He probably knew what was going on behind closed doors, but never mentioned anything to me.  We had a nonverbal understanding that it was not something we both felt comfortable talking about.  I’m not sure if he ever blamed himself for the things I was going through with my mom, but I never blamed him one bit.  I was actually grateful to have him in my life.  Spending time with him kept my mind off of the turmoil I was feeling inside.  He made me laugh and smile every single moment we were together; he brought sunshine into the darkness I was in.  He made me feel really good about myself.  By the end of my sophomore year, I was madly, head-over-heels, in love with him.  Nothing my mom said or did was going to tear us apart.

The Hmong adults started saying that he—the delinquent—badly influenced me.  I used to be such a “good” girl, but after I met him, I started being “bad.”  I didn’t understand why they were saying these things because I wasn’t a “bad” girl.  I stayed in school.  I got good grades and almost-perfect attendance.  I wasn’t doing drugs or drinking (I actually didn’t have my first alcoholic beverage until I was 19).  I didn’t stay out late.  I wasn’t involved in gangs.  I didn’t get into fights.  I didn’t sneak out at night.  I was a homebody.  The only reasons that I could conceive as to why they believe it was so was because I stopped conforming to the traditional norms, was being more verbal about my opinions, and seeing a boy who didn’t have the best reputation in the world.

You would think that if I had just ended my relationship with my boyfriend, my mom would stop beating me.  To me, it was more than just this boy.  I had finally discovered that I can be myself, have my own beliefs, and build my life on my principles—and I wasn’t going to back down.  My mom was pushing her beliefs on to me.  She wanted to mold me into the “perfect” Hmong woman: domesticated, silent, submissive, and obedient.  If I had given into my mom, that meant that I had given up on myself because I didn’t believe in what she believed in.  So, no matter how much my mom verbally, emotionally, or physically abused me, I stayed stubborn and fought.

Not only was I fighting for my beliefs, but I was also fighting for something that my parents never showed me was possible.  Despite his looks and reputation, my boyfriend treated me with so much love and utmost respect—so differently from how I saw my father treat my mom.  My boyfriend never hit me.  He never put me down.  He supported me.  Even though my mom was a total bitch to him, he never said anything bad about her.  He respected my decision to wait on sex until I was ready.  Of course, I gave my virginity to him later on, but he never pressured me.  We made out so many times, but whenever I stopped him from going further, he would without questioning me.  No pressuring, begging, whining, or guilt trips.  And I stuck with him despite all the abuse I endured with my mom because of his show of love and respect.

Baby MB

I never thought I was pretty enough because throughout my childhood, my family called me various nicknames to imply that I was ugly.  My skin tone was darker than what the Hmong would consider beautiful, thus I was called “Pog Qhab Meem (Miss Cambodian)” or “Poj Nplog (Miss Laotian).”  My family used to make fun of my full lips and very big round eyes—asking why I have sausage lips like Black people from Africa and saying that my eyes are eerily round like an owl’s.  Standing at 5’3”, I was taller than the average Hmong girls in town.  My family called me Olive Oil and Daddy Long Legs and commented that I would never find a tall Hmong husband.  I hated all these attributes of myself.  But to my boyfriend, I was the most beautiful girl in the world.  He loved everything about me, despite what negative reputation I carried in the Hmong community.

He was my first—first real boyfriend, first kiss, first sexual experience, first love.

We both moved away to different parts of town during the latter years of high school.  My partner and I saw less and less of each other.  I thought that by not seeing him that often, my mom would stop her bickering and yelling at me.  It didn’t stop.  Our arguments became more frequent.  And we argued about the same things.  If we were not arguing about my boyfriend, then we argued about my role as a Hmong daughter and saving my mother’s face.  It was driving me crazy!  I felt as if I was on probation and house arrest all the time.  I didn’t even have an opportunity to go out and ruin my mom’s reputation if I wanted to.

The things that were important to me were nothing to her.  I also didn’t see the importance in her Hmong values.  We lived in two very different worlds and there was nothing that could bridge this gap between us.

At the end of my junior year, I felt so lost, confused, and out of place that I no longer knew what to do.  We rarely argued about my boyfriend; it was constantly about me now.  Always how I was not good enough.  The arguments between my mom and me escalated to the point of my mom almost strangling me death.  Even though I don’t think much about that day, I still remember it very vividly.

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