Emo Attic

I Have A Dream…

On Cultural Tuesday, I’m not going to write about anything about pop-culture. I’m going to get a wee bit serious and write about big topics today like gender equality. First a disclaimer, these are my own opinions only, I’m not claiming them to be the truth and the only truth. Most things in this world, they have more than one perspective, but usually, only one perspective can be surveyed and measured. So I cordially ask you to keep an open mind and go on a little imaginary┬áadventure with me on these topics. ­čśŤ

– I suck at debates –

The inspiration to write this post today stemmed from a little debate I had in a group chat in which in addition to yours truly has a man and a woman in it. It all began with the woman saying how tired she was, and probably was because of PMS. To that, the man replied that men have it easier, and to my ear, there was a hint of condescending tone in his reply. As humor is my shield and weapon towards almost anything in life, I jokingly said that ‘yup, men even get paid more, except in the porn industry.’ And obviously, my not-exactly-untrue statement got a much stronger reaction that I was actually expecting. He demanded actual proof from me that men get paid more than women. At this point, I guess the majority of women are already triggered. ­čśÇ He went on showing me that at least in Finland, while the difference in salary between women and men is around 16-17%, the actual percentage is much smaller. Studies showed that the salary of women and men when doing the exact same job, their salary difference is only tipping at 1,6 %, in men’s favor. Well, good for you, Finland, good job. For him, this number with an almost non-existent difference, it doesn’t lie. In Finland at least, women and men get the same salary for doing the same job. Even that sentence, ‘same job, same salary’, even if it’s true according to the numbers, doesn’t sit well with me at all. Right off the bat, it sounds like we are equal, men and women, at least in salary. But is it equality?

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Emo Attic · Foodie's Counter

Lifestyle Change 2017

Okay, I know it’s Foodporn Monday, but since it’s this thing I’ve got myself into for the next 30 days, I guess I should write about it. First, I want to tell my story about my body image of myself, my struggles with my weight and my relationship with food.

For as long as I remember, my self-image is one of utter nonchalance. I don’t remember ever having a strong opinion of what I looked in the mirror. I remember being excited when my tits started to grow, but that was because they gave me more to play with while masturbating. Looking back at old photos and stuff, I can objectively say that I was pretty thin but not as thin as my Asian mom would like me to be, so I was constantly told that I could have a smaller tummy etc. My mom is a freaking bully. XD But all she really did was delay me from developing a healthy goal for my own body. I knew I wasn’t big by any standard, but I still got a little confused cos my mom said I was but what she said was not enough to make me do much about it.

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Emo Attic

Why My Dad Is Awesome

It’s the second Sunday of November, and in Finland (and Estonia, Iceland, Norway and Sweden) we are celebrating Father’s Day. I have no idea why the world can’t just decide on one date cos it gets confusing sometimes. Anyways, in celebration of Father’s Day, here’s┬ásome little stories I have to tell about my dad which helps explains why he’s pretty awesome.

Although I’m not one of those girls who admire their dads like superheroes who could do no wrong, I know my dad to be just a man. A hard-working one, with sometimes quick temper but doesn’t like confrontation, actually I’m a lot like my dad. He might be as strict and offensive in the typical Asian style, but he likes to play good cop too so he never confronts me about them and I love him for that. He has a big and easy smile and little kids love him. Sometimes he can be very stubborn and prone to get addicted to things like cigarettes and the Chinese version of whatsapp.

When I was a little kid, like 3 or 4 years old, not to brag but I was freaking cute. With a huge head and lots of hair, I look like a doll. My mom would take me with her to the place she used to work, and all her colleagues would play with me too. And it’s not unusual that they take me to a candy store to treats for me. But I would always choose salted prunes, which was a surprising and weird choice for a little kid. I chose them because my dad likes them. Guess I was a little bit of a daddy’s girl back in the days.

The year was 2002 and it was summer. My dad is a huge football fan, and I was kinda force to watch the World Cup that year too. But that year I fell in love with football, because it almost looked like magic how good football players can be. And up until then I had basically nothing in common with my dad, or maybe action movies. But I could tell how happy my dad was, that there is finally one thing that we are both passionate about.

Fast-forward some years, I broke up with my first serious boyfriend. I asked my dad to come pick me up in the morning plus the rest of my stuff. He didn’t ask what was going on, he did not push me for the answer, and he did not make a scene with my ex-boyfriend when he came to help me move stuff into his car. On the short ride home, he just chatted about normal stuff. I don’t think I’ve ever told him just how grateful I was of that little window of normalness before getting home and my mom pounced on me.

One little story more. I was born in the 80s. Even nowadays, there are Chinese out there who would have been so disappointed to get a daughter instead of a son. It’s even stronger in the 80s. My mom told me this story. She was of course worried that my dad wouldn’t love a daughter as much, but when I was born, my mom’s worries faded away. She told me that my dad adored me right from the beginning. Still in the hospital, some shady cleaning lady came in and asked my parents whether they want to trade for a male baby, that with a proper amount of money the cleaning lady could make a switch in the nursery at the hospital. I know, shady as fuck. But even before my mom could yell at her to get the fuck out, my dad just said that ‘nope, I’m pretty content with a daughter’. The cleaning lady called my dad a fool, my mom told me that my dad just smiled his silly smile. Nothing could have taken his happiness away on the day I was born.

So my dad is not the kind to show affection with hugs and such. But he shows it by making my favorite dishes, he shows it by always coming to pick me up when I needed it, he shows it by caring but not judging my sometimes hard-to-understand choices in life. I know deep down, he wants me to get married and have kids just as bad as mom wants it, but he never says it out loud. He loves me by letting me breath, and letting me feel like I’m an adult and that I can make my own decisions. And that’s why my dad is awesome.

Happy Father’s Day, dad. I hope you know that I love you.