You are so strong

“I am 27 years old!” I kept saying over and over again in my broken Chinese.

Several months ago when I announced to my parents and grandparents (located in the Bay Area) that I was going to go to Hong Kong, there were a varied amount of reactions. My parents used to my adventures just nodded—whatever you do with your money is your decision…you’re an adult. My grandfather (father’s side) just laughed in polite amusement—my granddaughter is independent!. My grandmother (mother’s side) reacted in fear—how can she survive!.

Granted, it was expected. And perhaps it’s nice to be worried about.

But the many calls I had to make once I arrived in Hong Kong to appease my grandmother’s fears. Despite having lived in the Mission district of San Francisco for more than 3 years, having wandered the dark streets of cities…including Oakland. But I was surprised to find that my aunt several years junior my mother…that she feared for my safety.

My aunt insisted on “taking me” to my friend’s wedding which meant she rode in the taxi to my friend’s house. She wanted pick me up after the reception, but I attempted to politely refuse. And in my own independent defiant way, I flagged down a taxi and pointed to the address my aunt wrote in my book. And the taxi drove me back. The doorman acknowledge me despite my inability to say my aunt’s last name the right way…and my aunt was shocked when I rang her doorbell on the 12th floor.

“Hello!” I said in my indie designer nyc dress with my aching high heels.

My aunt let me in while saying, “Wow…you’re so strong!!!”

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