By Natalie “Lee” Arneson
As I reflect on this last article I’m writing for this school year, I think back to the first article I wrote last Spring—“Being Asian American in the Time of COVID-19”. While this article is near and dear to me and the issues I discussed in it—the spike in anti-Asian racism and the violence that has accompanied this—are incredibly important and necessary, they are not all that should be acknowledged. Joy, contentment, love—these are so vastly important to write about too, and so I found myself reaching out to fellow members of the API communities I was a part of—myself being White/Korean/Hawaiian. I asked them to answer two questions for me: What does love look like to you and how do you give & receive love? This can be in any context—romantic, platonic, familial, cultural, etc.
While speaking with my community members, it felt only right that I give my own, brief, reflection as well. To me, love can look tired, sometimes reluctant, but always genuine and always steady. I give love in innumerable little ways; trying to make sure the last thing I say to my family is “I love you” every night, meeting my friends’ eyes when they speak to let them know I am here, holding my loved people close but also knowing when to let them go, giving space—whatever that may mean at the time—in the way that is needed. Receiving love can be tricky, but I try through accepting the love from others that I am hesitant to give to myself. I receive love by unlearning the narrative that to be mixed is to be fractured or watered-down or anything other than whole. I receive love in the way I bask in the sun, allowing it to lovingly color my skin the way my ancestors existed—and that I do this despite white folks telling me my skin wasn’t something beautiful.
Joni Cobarrubias, she/her/hers
22 years old
Filipino-American
Mesa, AZ
To me, love is showing up. When I feel loved, I feel the people around me support me, care about me, and genuinely listen to what I say. However, everyone expresses their love differently; love is also showing up for others in the way they receive love. Love is also understanding where someone is coming from. If they didn’t grow up in a nurturing environment, they might not receive love in the same way. Love is accommodating to their preferences and fully accepting who they are.
My love language for expressing love is words of affirmation. I enjoy encouraging and uplifting my loved ones in a safe space. My top love language for receiving love is quality time. I feel close to those I spend the most time with.
Miko Vergun, she/her/hers
20 years old
Pacific Islander, Marshallese with Japanese descent
I am adopted from the Marshall Islands and was raised in Beaverton, Oregon. I now live in Corvallis, Oregon.
Love for me looks like a good friend, someone that will always look out for you but will also give you the courtesy to tell you the truth because they want to see the best person that you can be. Love is also being a good listener.
My love language is very physical; I love to give and receive love, [like] platonic kisses. Love that is given and received can also be in the form of positive affirmations, which I really appreciate. I also have a few people in my life that aren’t physical lovers so in a way to respect that, I like to make sure that the space is up for them to navigate so that I’m not crossing any boundaries. Sometimes it could just be sitting together in silence, where the love for each other is acknowledged, but the silence emphasizes what’s there and it’s a good feeling.
Amira Joy Norte Caluya, they/them
39 years old
Asian and Filipino to the state. But I come from Bikolano, Ilokano, and Tagalog peoples.
I live in Nisqually territory
I don’t think there is one way that love looks like. First and foremost I’m Filipino and I am deeply connected to my cultural identity even though I am far away from the motherland. My ancestors were travelers, they built amazing boats called balangay, that carried families, so when I realized that…this narrative that I am “lost” because I’m not “home,” that hurt in my heart healed because I realized it wasn’t true. I know that my ancestors travelled and found their homes and I am [doing the same] as well.
The balangay has deep cultural influence in how Filipinos think about love, I think, especially how I was socialized growing up. I’m not a scholar on this so this is just how I’ve interpreted the histories that I’ve learned from my family, my parents, from reading books, my kasama (friends, comrades), and the internet, LOL. In a balangay everyone has their own roles in making sure the boat stays afloat and they get to where they need to.
So to me, love, regardless of the context—there’s different parts (like a balangay or boat), and there’s different things to attend to, but there is a commitment and trust that we are all in this together.
A few years ago I read bell hooks’ “All About Love” and this idea of living with a love ethic and that love is a verb—you are loving. I really connected with that because it resonated with my own culture and how I have been loved and want to love.
I think for me giving love—they’re very everyday things. Asking if people ate food, if they’re hungry, giving rides to places, celebrating big and little things, taking time to do something together. But I want to be clear that there is a difference between CARE and LOVE. To give love I first make a commitment to both of our growth, to respect each other, to trust, to care. I think care is one piece of love but if you give care without respect, trust, willingness to grow…that’s not love. In Filipino psychology there is this idea called kapwa, which is the idea that we are connected to each other, like a collective consciousness. Kapwa is what helps us do things like bayanihan, which is the spirit of collective power, us working together on something, on a goal. I feel like these two things are forms of love that I grew up with culturally and continue to live by.
How I receive love? Well I don’t want any kind of love. Tbh I am very choosy and I think that’s because I grew up in a household where violence was a norm. I receive love that respects me and that my body is its own sovereign being, love that has a commitment to not just my growth but for them too (friend, lover, family member, colleague, etc). It all sounds very nice and smooth while I type it but these are not things that society rewards us to do.
I actually have a hard time loving myself and receiving self love, I am in my late 30s and I still struggle that there is hope in myself. That’s not to say that that is all the time that I feel that way. It just happens. So I leave little love letters to myself in places I look at automatically. On my mirror, something that my late mentor taught me as self-affirmation: “I am the love that I seek, I am whole, I am complete.” I say this to myself at least once a day, because it’s a post-it note on my bathroom mirror. This world teaches us to hate ourselves and rewards us for punishing ourselves into accepting things like racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, classism, colorism…that it was my peoples fault for being colonized. I may not have an easy time loving myself, but even nurturing myself with my daily affirmation (the one on the bathroom mirror), it allows me to both give and receive love in a way that I think rejects patriarchy, domination, self hate. It helps me do kapwa and bayanihan in less toxic ways.
Miriam Taqieddin, She/they
23 years old
Bi-Racial: Arab/White
Seattle
Love looks like understanding without second-guessing. Listening, respecting, and accepting. Love is a kiss on each cheek, a kiss on the lips, a kiss on the head or hand. Love is sharing discomfort. Love looks like showing up against injustice that does not affect you. Love looks like a midnight shawarma, and my Ammo bringing me snacks when I’m sick. Love looks like morning chai on a sun-soaked balcony, and nargileh coals warming on the stove. Love looks like the people around you saying the words, “I hear you, I feel you, and I see you.”
I give love by nodding my head during conversation, and by asking what I can do to help. I give love by resting my head on someone, by holding their hand. I give love by sharing food, sharing my space, sharing my time. I give love by having their back, even if they don’t know it yet. I receive love by eating the food someone makes for me, and by allowing people to help me. I receive love in ways that words can’t describe, like soft touches, smiles, and endless support for what I believe in. I receive love from the sun, as my skin warms and turns golden.
Stephen Garfield, he/him/his
30 years old
Filipino-American
Currently in Portland, Oregon; born in Hawaii.
To me, love looks like connection. It might sound too simple, but it isn’t just passive. I grew up disconnected from my Filipino roots and family, with just my two parents (and before too long, just the one) as models for what love is. I was blessed, in this case, to have very loving and open role models. But everything else took work, which I was often hesitant to do—it was hard to pull this American boy away from his video games and dial-up internet fun long enough to talk to a rotating cast of family members on the phone. The love I could have had from lolos and lolas, aunties, uncles, and cousins withered and disconnected because of my lack of effort. Those atrophied muscles of mine went on to fail in multiple romantic partnerships, until I learned how much work I had to put in to get it in return. But each time I do, and cultivate a healthy, loving connection, the rewards are amazing—and I am reminded of why we all need more of it in our lives.
How do you give & receive love—openly, and indiscriminately. Love isn’t finite; we don’t run out of it like so many other resources. It can be exhausting and frustrating, of course, and the effort we have to put in to develop loving relationships is constant. But, I’m open with my love, and ready to receive it from anyone. A smile, a hug, a kind or supportive word, and so much more often than you’d think: silence.
