Your Asian Doll
Am I just your fetish?
When my father told my mother and me that we were relocating to the US due to his promotion, I was excited. I had just turned thirteen and had this notion that we would be in a brownstone in New York, Sex and the City style and I’d be wearing Jimmy Choos any minute.
Born and raised in Seoul, I wasn’t intimidated by cities and we had been to plenty of others from London to Singapore on family vacations. So whichever one we were going to live in seemed like the next exciting adventure. When we landed in L.A. everything was so golden and I felt like if we stayed long enough my pale skin would become golden too. But that was just a pitstop. Just like the Denny’s where I had my first biscuits and gravy which I vomited all over the back tire of the rental car.
We were there for a week while my father got his training from the Corporate Trainers for the Americas division. I had fallen for the sun-soaked beaches and bought a huge hat to lounge in while my mother ferociously read all the how-to books about America. I didn’t have a care and ran along the shoreline and found others my age as well as delightfully found some that even spoke Korean, with American accents.
The week was done and we boarded another plane, this time smaller, to land in Chicago. Chicago wasn’t bad, a little more gray, but so much character in every…
