The year was 2017.
We were in mom and dad’s small two-bedroom apartment in Shanghai. In the middle of the living room, I unzipped my big black suitcase from America. Inside, there were sexy lingeries, dance costumes, and accessories that I bought from a big clearance sale in Orlando. One by one, I took them out: Black pantie hoses, colorful strings, red feathers, elbow-length white gloves. As I continued to unpack, Dad sat in the chair watching. I could sense his discomfort and tried not to look at him. Mom sat down on the floor with me to help me get organized. She picked up a black one-piece fishnet half-body suit. There was no packaging with a picture like the others so it couldn’t be easily identified.
“What is this?” She asked me and turned it around to show my dad. She said it half-jokingly. They knew my feminine retreat would start in two days and this was the gear for my students.
“Do you think China is ready for this?” Dad looked at me and asked gently. I looked up and met his eyes. He was smiling and his voice was concerned.
Mom voiced her opinion, “Could you teach something else? You are an expert in Autism. China needs help with Autism.” She wouldn’t even say the word ‘sexuality’.
Sexuality is a taboo word in China.
Mom had sat in my class once. It was summertime. The Federation of Loving Hearts in Shanghai hosted a week-long camp for children and I was invited to teach a full-day feminine movement workshop for the moms, most of whom were entrepreneurs. My sister was my assistant at the music station and we invited mom to sit next to her to help. We knew our mother well. She would not come if she wasn’t given a task and felt useful. I had always felt her deep love for our family through her acts of service.
My sister pulled me aside during break, “Mom told me, ‘I have wasted 70 years of being a woman!’” She continued with a big smile,“Just like me, I know once she sees you dance, she will understand it even better!!”
I knew that mom made judgments quickly so I was relieved to hear she approved. But when I asked mom about the class a day later, her answer surprised me. “The sharing time was good,” then she said in a very low voice with a half frown, “But the dance looked like a prostitute.” She tried to smile. I knew she didn’t want to hurt my feelings.
I wanted to scream, Mom! Owning our femininity is our birthright! Our bodies are not just for men to use! But I kept silent.
Mom had joined the liberation army at the age of 16 and she had been brainwashed by the communist party. In the Chinese language, sex is yellow and evil. (Why do they even pick yellow? Yellow means sunny and bright in my dictionary!). Sex drives people to do disgraceful things, is what she used to tell me when I was a teenager. “You must cover-up. So men won’t have dirty thoughts.”
I had wanted to say: Well, mom, that was no use. I didn’t show any skin and they still touched me. But I didn’t say anything.
Now in my class, I had noticed there some subtle changes in mom despite still being a concerned parent. She started to open up to the idea that sexuality was not dirty and it could be spoken about openly.
Even now, my parents have never spoken their support out loud, but I could tell they supported through their actions. When I stayed with them in China during my teaching they would make green smoothies for me in the morning or wait for me with hot meals at night. Sitting on the living room floor, I felt extremely thankful that my mom got to witness my dance, finding my power and not being afraid of or being ashamed of sexuality anymore.
“China needs this too.” I took the sexy fishnet from mom’s hand, raised it up in front of me and smiled at both of them.
Every woman needs this. Sexuality is our birthright.
Love,
WeiLi