So. Who am I?

My name’s Ai Vee, I’m a 20 year old Chinese based in Melbourne and I’m currently studying film and television production at RMIT University.

My history?

I was born in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia and was raised there until I was a wee little six year old, then I migrated over to Australia with my parents to live in Melbourne. My parents gave me the best present that I didn’t ask for when I was at the tender age of eleven and a half: a baby sister. I actually wanted a puppy like every other kid my age, but no, I got a sister instead. Back then I thought everyone had a pet dog, all my White friends had dogs. Why can’t Chinese people have dogs? It’s not like I wanna raise the damn dog so when it grows big and strong I can to marinate it and grill it on the barbie when I’m older. One and a half year later, I was off to Hogwarts. No, I wish. High school was sweet and sour. Bitches come, bitches go. Bitches get knocked up, here’s me in the corner smirking. Three years on, doom and gloom begins to fade. I make new mates, real ones, no fakes. Three years more and I’m out of high school.

Before I graduated, I began to realised what to do with my life. Nothing, nothing at all. So, I did the opposite of what other Asian chicks do, nothing cliché, oh no, no shit like that, get into a course that will guarantee employment at the end of Uni, no way in hell I’m gonna be a doctor or a dentist. First I don’t have the necessary IQ  to study such things and second, I got better things to do with my life than deal with sick people and morning breath all day and every day. I chose to do what other hopeless Asians do out there, become an Art Student.

My acceptance letter came, getting into RMIT was like winning the lottery, I jumped for joy, literally. It meant that I didn’t need to apply for other ‘not-a-nerd?-no-worries- we’ll-still-accept-rejects-like-you’ tertiary institutions like Victoria University. Studied at RMIT, sometimes I liked it, sometimes not. Got “dry-raped” once in class, I hope that never occurs again. Directed and produced a short film inspired by bestiality committed by nutty guys who need to check themselves into a mental ward. Shot a film, got nominated for ‘Best Cinematographer’ at the Screen and Media awards night.

My bi-curious journey so far:

Half a year wiser into Uni and I officially realised that I was half gay, half straight, shaping myself into a half-carse bi. Being half gay, gosh, is the weirdest thing yet. Being dragged into this world of LGBTIQ was awful. The transition between previously identifying yourself as a straight chick then, later a bi was a rather lonely experience. I had no gay friends what-so-ever when I came out of the closet. I felt isolated and I hungered for company. My desperation to make new friends led me to join a meet up group on www.meetup.com.au called the ‘LesBian Social Fun Club’.

Having a gut full of concrete, one day I stood in a room not so familiar, the Queer Lounge at RMIT. My feet, solid on the ground, cautiously stomped around the room, I found a space to sit, my eyes wandering around, later finding its way to the screen of my phone, ignoring and refraining from any eye contact from the other queers.

 I can feel the stares of people on my back, people are looking at me, why are they looking at me? Stop looking at me!! You’re a queer too, why are you staring at me like you’ve seen a bloody ghost? Can you sense my fear? Can your gaydar sense that I’m not completely gay? Can your gaydar sense that I’m only half gay and half straight? My blood began to boil, my face became tinted with a shade of watermelon, hairs on skin stiffly stood up, my jaws locked like it’s sucking on a sour lolly, and my hands began to shake. A subtle earthquake of fingers swaying side by side. My eyes began to twitch spontaneously from the stress. I looked up from my phone; no one is looking at me. No one gives a rats arse that I’m in the room. The queers are busy eating, chatting, and working on their assignments on their laptops, too busy to notice me killing myself with stress. I left the Queer Lounge within twenty minutes. I’m lucky that I even managed to survive that long in there. I never went back that year.

A new year begins. Armed with food and assignments to do, I found myself once again in the Queer Lounge, this time I met two great folks. We chatted and all, they were real friendly and my nerves were at ease. A week more come, the Wine and Whinge even was on, it was a Friday night, I decided to join, try to meet other queers, make new friends. Sat down in the Lounge that night, a white plastic cup in my hand, made small chat to the Queer Officers, played a sex inspired drinking game. Had a pleasant night, not bad, not bad at all. I thought to myself, gays aren’t that all different from straights, sure they talk about sex here and there, but they seemed normal. Does that make me normal? Even though I wasn’t a pure blooded lesbian? It made me ponder… I spent the ride home on the train casually smiling to myself, I now know some gay people, I made progress, and this was a huge milestone in my life.

When I first came out to a few of my closest and dearest mates and one relative, I felt a strange sense of happiness, a barrier that has been blocked previously has otherwise been cleared. Coming out meant that I could talk freely about my sexuality, talk about my attraction to women, talk about how hot that chick is down the street. My sexually became a subject to my every day conversation to with these folks, I didn’t mind at all, like seriously, what’s there to hide? The people that I told didn’t treat me any different, sure, they were surprised that I was half a lezzo, they asked me questions about being bi, clearly, they’re curious about it.

My ideal partner:

Someone that’s honest, mysterious, real. Someone that’s skinnier than me, let’s just say I’m a bit heavy duty. My woman must be able to handle my blunt weirdness, no questions ask.  I am yet to get myself a lady friend, someone I can share my life with, share my most inner thought with, share my journey with. Someone I can please, kiss, cuddle and love whenever and where ever I want. Someone I can hold my hand with down the street and be not afraid to declare she is my friend, my partner, my lover.

To you:

To those people out there, who aren’t sure about their sexuality or have had realised that they are a LGBTIQ. To those people out there who are or were me. Who had no one, had no social support, no family support, no one to turn to, feeling like there’s no hope, feeling scared, alone, feel like your life is meaningless, feel that people are looking at you all the time. I want to tell you, there is hope. You will find joy, you will be happy. Have a positive outlook on life, life can be shit, I get it, try not to focus on the negatives. I want you to know that you are not alone. There are lots and lots and lots of women out there who are just as afraid as you, just as desperate as you are, just as beautiful as you are. Be patient with yourself, be kind to yourself, you will find your feet.

 I want to let you know that I am here for you. I know what it is like to have no one to relate to, feeling that nobody understands what you are going through, feel like the odd one out. I’m like you. You should be proud of who you are, be proud of what you’ve achieved, be proud of what you’ve become. Who gives two shits what your preference is? It’s no one’s business but yours. You are you, you are perfect.

Of course this journey is tough, I’m still learning every day, making the most of it all. Truth is, life is too short, why care about others think, why care about the little things? You have made progress, you have taken a big step, you’re on my tumblr, reading this post this far. Explore your sexuality, explore yourself, have no limits.