American Impostor

This is Progress

Chicago. November 2015

I've started wearing henley shirts to show off my burgeoning chest. I've gone through photos of myself with Karen and other female friends to select the optimal ones. Okcupid's statistics blog shows that if I look away from my photo, I'm more likely to be contacted. I keep this in mind as I carefully select my photos.

I'm still reading the forums. I feel camaraderie as we celebrate Tyra Banks for championing Asian men on America's Next Top Model or Steven Yeun for fucking a white girl on The Walking Dead. There's some discussion on the growing influence of Kpop on our image, if it's helping us or hurting us, but Kpop is still niche in the states, outside of "Gangnam Style".

Emily is the first person I've met through online dating. Emily's Chinese-American, from Ohio. Our first date is casual, like the forums recommend. We walk along the coast of Lake Michigan, and I use the cold weather as an excuse to clasp her hand. She's a consultant and went to Harvard for political science. She's new to the city and working at Bain. I love discussing social psychology and sociology with her, but I'm careful not to bring up anything about my struggles as an Asian-American guy. She's more well-read than I am. She explains to me how Hegel's philosophies have influenced and shaped Western societies as a whole. I love it. It helps that she's gorgeous as well.

On our second date we go for sushi. We talk about social norms and how silly they are sometimes. I tell her I've been slowly forcing myself to overcome social discomfort, to become a stronger person. I think she admires this.

"So are you going to ask me to split the bill, mister disregards-social-norms?" She asks playfully

"I'll pay for all of it if I really like her," I say, as I pay for all of it because I really like her. While I'm walking her home, I grab her and kiss her. She returns a passionate kiss. She explains to me her roommate is gone tomorrow and that we should hang out at her place after work.

I'm ecstatic.

And afraid. I'm going to lose my virginity to this girl. I don't know anything about sex. I can't sleep from the racing thoughts. I take off work the next day to read the sex subreddit to try to understand what exactly I should be doing. I shave my genitals. I clip my nails. I look at diagrams of the clitoris. I take mental notes on where real sex differs from porn, how rhythm is more important than the jackhammering we see, which is good, because I don't think I can last that long at that speed. I watch videos on the proper fingering techniques. It feels like I'm shooting webs like Spider-man.

At her place my demeanor is not as confident as it had been on the previous dates. I'm overthinking it and I'm nervous. While we're taking off our clothes, she tells me she's actually never dated an Asian guy before. This does not help my mental state.

"Is it your first time having sex?" Emily asks after coitus.

"No..." I lie, but I think it's pretty obvious. But I'm not sure what to say. I couldn't stay erect from the nerves. And l think I was terrible at the foreplay. The clit was far more difficult to find than expected. When I was finally inside her I couldn't last long. I didn't know my body well enough to. It was bad for her. I try not to show that I know it was bad.

It did not look like this at all

She never texts me back after this. It intrudes my thoughts for weeks.

If you're bad or inexperienced at sex you'll kill the attraction instantly. Dating is a competition and if you're deficient you'll be dropped. No one is at fault here, it's just how markets work. This will happen again and again. It won't be easy but one day it will stop.

I'm 26, and it feels like this will be the rest of my life. But I tell myself it's not.

Challenges create extreme people. I'd find this out soon enough.

This will happen again and again. But one day it will stop. This is progress. One day I'll be worthy of love. One day I'll be happy.

I force myself to smile.