The Rerun:Meandering Thoughts On Coming Out as an Asian-American Woman Who Loves Women

The Rerun brings voices from the past directly to you. Each month, Lambda Archives of San Diego shares a piece of writing pulled from our periodicals collection: articles, columns, letters, and dispatches written by queer people in our community across the decades.

This month: “Meandering Thoughts On Coming Out as an Asian-American Woman Who Loves Women” by Leng Loh, Women’s Membership Chair (resident idealist) of G.L.A.S.S. (Gay and Lesbian Asian Social Support.) Originally printed in The Gay and Lesbian Times, June 11, 1992

Meandering Thoughts On…Coming Out As An Asian American Woman Who Loves Women

By LENG LOH, Women’s Membership Chair (resident idealist) of G.LA.S.S. (Gay and Lesbian Asian Social Support Group)

In thinking about coming out as an Asian-American woman who loves women, I realized that for me the process of coming out has entailed more than merely coming to terms with my sexuality. It has required coming to terms with myself. I am not just a lesbian. I am not just a category loaded with political meaning. I am more than that. Coming out isn’t just a matter of announcing your sexual preference to yourself and the world-to come out is to affirm your dignity, worth and pride as a WHOLE HUMAN BEING. I think everyone – straight, gay or otherwise- should go through a coming out process as a human being who loves. Love. Pardon my cominess, but that’s what it’s all about. Love goes beyond identity formation, beyond lifestyles, beyond politics; simultaneously, it should be at the center of these things. I try to remember to return to my sense of love for myself and for other humans whenever I start feeling disillusioned or cynical about the gay/ lesbian community and lifestyle. Because my own sense of self will carry me through difficult times when the world will not. You’ve got to have a lot of confidence in yourself to love another person fully and freely; especially if society’s going to frown upon your choice of who you love.

As I wrote in my journal a few months ago: 
“Loving you 
is loving me 
is loving us 
is loving.”
Being a lesbian for me is more than just loving women. It is loving myself, and allowing myself to be loved by another woman. Loving myself entails a deep journey into the past and into the fearful places I have avoided for years; it means dragging out corpses and giving them a proper burial; it means accepting the negative and celebrating the positive. The positive is difficult and new for me. Having been socialized as a woman, I am so accustomed to putting myself down – being ‘humble,’ ‘demure.’ Loving is the hardest part, and yet it is the easiest -when it comes to loving this woman ti only i could love myself as easily as i do her.”

Part of learning to love myself has been learning to trust myself. To say, “You know, I made this decision about my life, and I am going to stick by it because I feel it’s right for me, I know it’s right for me.” Even though I’ve chosen a difficult path to follow, I now feel more secure about myself than I ever have in my life. A lot of my straight friends have been really impressed by my decision to come out as a lesbian. “Wow, Leng, you’re really brave,” they tell me. I don’t know if bravery has anything to do with it – ‘cuz I was terrified when I first came out. Terrified of being with a woman because I knew it would be so intense, terrified of having to learn about and establish myself in a whole new community, terrified of societal disdain, terrified of being bashed, terrified of having to live my life in secret, terrified of my parents’ heartbreak … the list goes on. 

I’m not brave. I’m still scared about a lot of things. But I’m facing those fears, and there’s a certain sense of security in knowing I can handle anything that comes along my way. And in knowing that I had a role in making things happen in my life, both good and bad. Before I came out, I didn’t have to defend my decisions nearly as much; I didn’t have to take responsibility for my own life. Though part of me seriously doubted that I’d ever follow the typical nuclear family scenario, I also had this vague sense that maybe someday Prince Charming would come along and take care of me. But the picture just didn’t seem right. Coming out as an Asian-American lesbian forced me to think about families, about my own family, and about the kind of family that I might have someday. Are my personal feelings of intense attachment to women important enough to risk hurting my family? Is my life my own? What do I want in my life? Is the nuclear family right for me? Why do I feel such an aversion to the concept – do I just not like the idea of a family, or is it the heterosexual domestic scene? What are my other options? 

Today, as a result of the long questioning and affirming process, although I may feel uncertain about what’s to come for me as an Asian-American lesbian-institutionalized discrimination? personal ostracism? impersonal violence? -I feel like I have a better idea of what I want in my life than if I’d never questioned the norm. Coming out was a way of saying, “Hey, I have an idea of what I want, and I think I’m gonna try to do something about it.” Granted, I didn’t just wake up one morning and say, “Oh, gee, I’m a lesbian.” Coming out for me was a long, drawn-out, confusing, flip-flopping process. For the longest time I didn’t think it was possible for me to be gay, because, well, gosh, you know, I’m Asian, and everyone knows “Asians aren’t gay.” To me, being an Asian lesbian seemed almost an oxymoron- a contradiction in terms. During my first two years of college I had this mantra I repeated to myself every time my hormones kicked in and set off dreams of making love with Janis Joplin- “I am not a lesbian, I could not be a lesbian, Asians are not lesbians, lesbians are not Asians, my parents would freak… It is not possible. Grasshopper, listen to me! It is not possible. Study hard, work hard, achieve – you’ll be fine.” I thought by diverting my attention I could ignore this incredible draw I felt towards women.

But then I moved to Hillcrest, our local friendly gay neighborhood- and I hastened to assure people that it was not because I was gay, but because the rent was cheap and the apartment was cute! I was vocal about gay rights, but I always made sure to talk about it in relation to my gay friends, never myself. And then I saw the guys from G.L.A.S.S. march by in the Gay Pride parade. And I realized I had tears running down my face. For a few days I tried to convince myself that the tears just meant that I felt a lot of sympathy for these gay men who must have had to struggle so much with their Asian families. 

Then I found myself getting upset that there weren’t any women marching… And I found myself becoming really curious about what Asian lesbians were like… Is there such a thing? An Asian lesbian? Is it possible? Why do I care? And I started to think. I thought about how I had this ridiculous track record of falling for guys who, I would later find out, were gay. I wondered what that mean – could it be, I wondered, that I’m attracted to … feminine qualities? Gasp! I thought about what I would look for in a love relationship. I realized that there were very few straight men with those qualities – and a lot of women. Basically, I finally took the opportunity to ask the questions, “What’s best for me? Do I really want to follow the path beaten out for me, or is there something that pulls me more?” 

Ask questions about how society influences your ideas on what your life should be, challenge society, and accept yourself. Yes. It is possible. To be Asian and lesbian. To be Asian and gay. To be and to love. Hey. I love you.