Little women, big opinions

I am first generation Filipino-American. My parents, and in my mom's case, her siblings, immigrated here. Most of their friends are immigrants as well.

This means a few things:

I'm pretty hard on myself because I'm afraid of disappointing them.

People think I'm weird for being unmarked and not living with my parents. Or brave. Or RICH. Ha!!!

There were weird superstitions forced upon me that I even thought were ridiculous at an age when I should have been fairly gullible. (A post for another time)

I had some weird lunches as a kid.

Sometimes I second guess how I've pronounced something because I've been hearing it said that way my whole life.

And that I'm pretty sure I'm always being judged.

It's justified, believe me. I understand a good percentage of conversational Tagalog. Most people either forget that or assume I don't because I was raised here. And let me tell you, Filipina ladies talk a lot of shit.

I've never told them I've gotten massages (and how amazing they are). I don't regularly go to the nail salon but the looks given for how often I paint my nails and bottles of polish I own has shamed me enough. When asked if my purse is new I usually say no, even if, okay, a month wasn't that long ago, and yes, you haven't seen me since I ordered it online.

A couple years ago, it was summer and one of my Titas (aunts, distant older relatives, or friends of the family) saw me at my parents house. She looked me up and down and said, "I like when you wear dresses. You look much more like lady."

...I don't recall wearing baseball caps and overalls at any point. I'm pretty sure I wasn't swigging a beer and scratching my ass the last time she saw me. I'm guessing since I was in college at the time and to  dressing up to hang out in Huntley that I was probably wearing jeans. God forbid.

You know what else bugs Titas? Exposed bra straps. Seriously.

My point is that, it's usually something. Too inappropriate. Too sexy. Too expensive. Too frivolous. "Why does she point all those pictures on Facebook?" "How can she wear those high heels?" "How can they charge so much at Victoria's Secret?" "You know they voted for Obama?" 

Am I guarded? Maybe a little, but mostly because I'm aware of the chismis (gossip).

Roll your eyes. Laugh. Sigh. Tell your friends. Blog about it.