Confronting Herself
By Alecs Kakon
Photos by Jen Fellegi
I have a hard time standing up for myself, which to those who know me sounds completely impossible since I’m so opinionated and strong-minded. But it’s true. Confrontation in any form makes my face red, my chest hot and my fingers tremble. In fact, I’ve lost friends because it felt safer to walk away than to confront an issue, regardless of how small. It’s probably the part of myself I like least - mostly because, even though I understand where it comes from, I don’t understand why I can’t overcome it. I’ve intellectualized my inability as a fight or flight response, but that only takes me halfway. I don’t fight, I flight. Now that I know that, why can’t I employ healthy boundary-setting and positive self-talk to transform “fight” into good communication strategies? I’ve soul searched and I’ve come to understand that the reason I can’t create safe moments to express myself freely is because I fear that my feelings will hurt people and the last thing I ever want to do is hurt someone. Sitting with Anny, we connected on that same pointed character trait: because she knows what it feels like to be hurt, she never wants to be the source of someone else’s pain. That statement resonated so deeply with me. Anny and I came at being non-confrontational in vastly different ways and for very different reasons, but repressing rather than communicating became a coping mechanism we’ve come to know intimately and have both been making efforts to exorcise. Listening to her talk about her upbringing, we touched on her culture, her body image and the growing pains of what it means to get to know oneself.
As a first-generation Canadian, Anny was one of only a couple visibly distinct kids at her elementary school. Standing out on the basis of her Asian culture on a playground of predominantly Caucasian children, there were few opportunities for Anny to relate to the people around her. “I was made fun of a lot at school. Maybe it was because I brought Chinese food for lunch or because I didn’t speak English at all really,” Anny remembers. “I was bullied because of my appearance, because of my culture, and I felt it. I knew it. It made me dislike where I came from and it made me think that being White was better.” Trying to oppress her Chinese-Vietnamese identity so as to assimilate, the shame Anny felt toward her own culture whitewashed her values. It was hard for her to stand up for herself; stuck in the face of confrontation, it was simpler, perhaps safer, to retreat and change to fit the mould. It was when Anny reached grade two and became more fluent in English, the bullying started weaning on its own. Things settled for her as she acculturated. It was when Anny graduated high school and entered the college setting that her world expanded because she finally met people with similar backgrounds and hybrid identities like her own. She felt more connected to her friends and therefore, began to have a more positive relationship with her own culture. Where she had once absorbed the message that who she was wasn’t good enough, she slowly started to feel stronger being who she is. “I no longer felt like an outsider, because I had found a community. Feeling that sense of belonging really helped me drop the racist attitude I had toward myself and my culture,” Anny explained. “I grew up speaking Cantonese at home, eating Asian cuisine and practicing Chinese traditions, and I hadn’t ever celebrated that in a social context. All of a sudden, I was bonding with friends over our Asian quirks and we were going out to eat pho or other Asian foods. I truly started to immerse myself in my culture.” Now, whenever Anny is faced with any sort of bullying (cyber or other), she doesn’t fight or flight, she actively chooses to shrug it off as she feels secure in who she is.
Although Anny did eventually find that positive connection to her community and identity, the wounds that were created from such a young age saw unhealthy manifestations, especially when it came to what Anny saw when she looked in the mirror. “I had a sort of body dysmorphia. I never felt good enough in anyone’s eyes and that wreaked havoc on my self-esteem,” she explains. “By the time I was 18 years old, I developed bulimia. I would go through cycles of binging and purging. From the outside, you couldn’t tell anything was going on, because my weight wouldn’t change much, but inside I was really struggling.” The dissonance between the outer appearance and inner feeling rested on the fact that Anny didn’t feel she could achieve perfection; if anyone criticized her or pointed something out about her physical body, her mind would translate it as something horrible, and so the cycle went. For more than a decade, Anny suffered from bulimia, and although she stopped at times, she would always relapse: “I only finally stopped in 2018 and that’s because I got to the bottom of the issue after seeking therapy. I’m a very non-confrontational person, and when I felt hurt, rather than speak up for myself, I would seek comfort in food. But, food equalled weight to me. I tried to control my pain by controlling my weight.”
Incapable of setting clear boundaries, Anny felt she couldn’t control how people acted toward her, but she could control her weight; she couldn’t hurt other people, but she could hurt herself, so she would purge. The vicious cycle stopped when she understood what she was doing. “It was a serious wake-up call for me and I learned that if I set a line or a boundary, then I can learn to stand up for myself. It’s a process, but I’m working on it,” Anny says. “I’m open in admitting that this was a problem, but it has helped me get to know myself better. It’s part of what happened in my life, but it doesn’t define me.” When at one time, the pain points trickled into her life subconsciously, Anny has now brought awareness to her triggers and exercises self-governance, mindfulness, and healthy habits both in her relationship with food as well as through positive self-talk.
Creating a life for herself that is slightly unconventional from what her parents had in mind, Anny took the path of the artist by pursuing a career as a graphic designer, web designer, and now as a UI/UX designer. “I knew my parents always wanted me to be a doctor or lawyer. Even though I knew they didn’t value the arts the way I did, I still went for it. I got into programs where 300 people apply but only 30 get in. It was hard knowing they wanted something else for me but I loved what I was doing and I excelled at it,” Anny reflects. “Recently, I took some time off between jobs and my mom was worried that it was the wrong choice. My father revealed to me that he had defended me in saying that I had done so well for myself, my mother needn’t worry. I don’t think he knows how much it meant to me to hear that from him. It was amazing to hear that in their way, they are proud of me.”
With two small side businesses (Park & Finch glasses, and April Gold bags) and a full-time UI/UX designer, as well as a side Instagram hustle, Anny’s success is a testament to her hard work and “smart-work,” as she puts it. Never wavering on who she would become, professionally speaking, Anny has always stood up for what she has wanted in a way, and now with her newfound sense of self-confidence, she continues to find ways to funnel that positivity into all aspects of her life. With clear retrospect, she has learned that she may not have had the healthiest mindset as a kid or teen, but she has worked hard on unspooling it all. Understanding that confrontation is simply good communication in disguise, we have both started implementing our new skills whenever needed. “I no longer hold onto my sadness. If I feel something in my chest, I know now that it will pass. I’m learning to speak up for myself and set boundaries. I’ve also built up my self-esteem. I’m in a good place now.” Processing the past so as to let it go, Anny stands in her truth and in so doing, she has learned how to draw from her internal strength so that her outer self always reflects her true identity.
