Embracing my sexuality wasn’t always easy for me - in fact, it was quite the opposite!

I am the daughter of immigrants, a first-gen Filipino-American who grew up in a family that was wildly uncomfortable with discussing anything related to sex, relationships, and/or money.

On top of that, I was also subjected to the cultural conditioning that many of us have become familiar with, a society that shames and blames women for embracing their bodies, personal power, and sensuality.

Growing up in an immigrant family, conversations around sex, relationships, mental and emotional wellness, and body image issues were never open for discussion. The lack of conversations created a lot of internalized confusion about what it meant to love my body and how to have healthy relationships and communicate.

I grew up in a society that was intensely gendered, including clothes and activities, among other things. Inside and outside of my home, binary notions of gender dictated what people could and couldn’t do.

We live in the San Francisco Bay Area where the environment is more progressive and school documents include non-binary checkboxes where students can indicate their preferred name, but this may not be the case in other areas.

As parents, we instinctively want to protect our kids from harm — especially if there’s a chance they might be “othered.” But the best thing to do is acknowledge their sovereignty and embrace gender diversity by offering support and holding space for your kids.

I was no longer mourning the loss of the marriage, the loss of the hopes and dreams I once had of everything I had worked hard to create, the family I once thought I had and the one I had hoped to build…I was laying in bed with my partner Chris during our time in Joshua Tree and said to him as he held me crying, “I think I’m done mourning the marriage. I think I’m now mourning the loss of my former self.” I cried some more and he just held me closer while holding me safely in the warmth of his embrace.

The intergenerational trauma passed down from one generation to another is pervasive in the AAPI Community. Not only are we conditioned to keep our suffering to ourselves, but we're also taught to not speak up and to keep our suffering in silence for the honor of our family.

"Keep your head down, work hard, don't get in trouble."

"Don't ask for help you'll owe them something."

"Don't trust anyone, but family."

These were just a few of the messages told to me growing up. Messages I intuitively knew were wrong, disempowering, and alienating. In addition to those messages, my parents were taught that worthiness was determined by the color of one's skin, colonized messages my Filipino folks tried to condition me to believe. The more I dive into my work as a sexual empowerment coach, I directly see how deeply woven intergenerational trauma can be and it’s clear how it can be passed on from one generation to the next.

On paper I had it all — a successful tech career, my health, two daughters, a dog, a home we were safely in, I was cultivating the most beautiful adult friendships with my girlfriends, and a young marriage that had been through some shit and still standing.

But somewhere deep inside there was this quiet voice saying "You deserve more. You deserve to not feel like you're not enough or too much."