Since I was young, I’ve always wanted to marry a Hmong man and enter a Hmong family–I’ve never really questioned otherwise. Although many have the misconception that I always wanted to marry someone Korean, due to being able to speak the language. But honestly, that was only coincidental–my mom intentionally raised us with Korean media as she disapproved of American media. So naturally, I picked up the language from age 7.

Currently, my partner happens to be Korean, and this is his 86-year-old grandma, whom we call “Halmoni.” And she and I have this little special relationship.

After my first heartbreak at 21, I thought it would be like the movies. Where the good guy always appears after the bad guy, and that if I just got my heartbreak over with, I would finally find true love and be happy.

But I’ve come to learn that there are things in life that you can give your all to, and yet it will still not result in the way you want.

I received the best message this morning, and it couldn’t be more timely with what I’ve been focusing on lately.

It was a question from a fellow artist, who often experiences years of hiatus from their craft. And they shared, that it was because they were afraid of being imperfect and did not create because they were always waiting until they were ready. And so they wanted to ask one of the most beautiful questions I could’ve ever been asked.

When I was in high school, I always thought adults had it all figured out. And I thought that when I became one, I would too. I would listen to the guest speakers that came, and be in awe of the way they spoke about what they do or want to do. And it felt like everyone but me was just so sure of themselves. As if they all woke up one day, with a clear vision of who they are.

I didn’t expect to cry as much as I did. More than the other wins we’ve seen, probably because this was such a personal one. Being a kpop star was my biggest teenage dream. Something I fell in love with, never because I wanted to be Korean, but because mainstream media didn’t have anyone that looked like me. And kpop was the closest thing to imagining what a world with mainstream industries all being Hmong would look like. I even auditioned for kpop agencies,  and I trained by myself through YouTube because that’s all I knew how to do. But it didn’t seem like a reachable dream to me, and I guess somewhere along the way I just accepted that it was just something like make-believe. Something I wish Hmong people had, along with all the other many things. 

We all grew up watching and rooting for other Asian ethnicities—any Asian that felt like the next best representation of us. But, the time has finally come where we are again and again, seeing us, exactly as ourselves—actual Hmong representation on large platforms. And it shows just how long we’ve lived without ever seeking acknowledgement because we’ve only had the goal to survive. But now that we know that we’re capable, just as deserving, as intelligent and as talented, we are now truly taking up space in our fullest form.