by Diane Farr
It was the morning after our first “I love you,” and I was filled with happiness on my way to breakfast with Seung Yong Chung. I couldn’t yet pronounce any of his three names better than many of you just did, but I called him “Sing,” like all his friends did.
It was the morning after our first “I love you,” and I was filled with happiness on my way to breakfast with Seung Yong Chung. I couldn’t yet pronounce any of his three names better than many of you just did, but I called him “Sing,” like all his friends did.
For weeks, Seung and I had been spending our nights together, but in the transient city of Los Angeles, waking up next to someone (even regularly) is not a sign of commitment. Our mutual willingness to blow off work, however (or at least roll in late because we were lingering over breakfast), did make me feel certain that Seung would soon become my boyfriend.
As we entered the Santa Monica breakfast bar, I noticed a young, attractive Asian woman looking at our clasped hands with apparent displeasure. When she then looked up at Seung and scowled, I gave her a big bright smile as a gentle warning to refrain from girl-on-girl hating.Once seated, I began to dissect my burrito, looking to expel anything that might singe my half-Irish, half-Italian and wholly American palate. While running my fork through the black beans, I asked my Korean-American suitor, “Do you intend to leave me for an Asian girl someday?”
Seung paused for just a moment too long.
As my smile began to wane, he finally replied, “I’m supposed to marry a Korean girl.”
My mind raced: What? Do you have another girlfriend? And was that her friend outside?
Seung added, “My parents have been clear about this my entire life.”
Your whole life? Does that mean that you, Seung Chung, a football-loving, former fraternity brother who grew up in Maryland, are to be part of an arranged marriage?
Maybe Seung could tell I was on the verge of rescinding my earlier “I love you,” so he jumped to the bottom line: “My parents are not going to easily accept this relationship. And I’m afraid they will never accept you.”
Finally the catastrophizing in my head stopped. Not because this news couldn’t become any worse, but because I saw in Seung’s face that he was willing to fight for me. I put down my fork and took Seung’s hand — to fight for us, too.
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