A short story about how the reluctant teenage beauty queen met a smiling foreign student who spoke no English and their unexpected happily-ever-after. A journey of self-discovery, self-acceptance, tragic loss and faith in destiny.
As a teenager in the 1980s, I loved reading romance novels by the box sets. That was our version of Netflix binging "Bridgerton" or "Emily in Paris". However, growing up as a Hong Kong, Chinese immigrant in the middle of Alberta, Canada in the 80s meant that I was not anywhere near the popular blonde, blue-eyed protagonists who won the hearts of the equally popular and handsome jocks in romance novel plotlines of my youth.
I was more like the ugly duckling sidekick whose supporting role was to help the main character win the dream guy or was written in the story for comic relief.
But despite that, I was a hopeless romantic. I never wanted to be a princess, but I did dream of being swept off my feet by a dashing hero. I wanted to be seen for the smart, funny, talented and strong woman I was growing up to be, instead of the skinny, awkward Asian girl that was labelled automatically to me. I was determined to be the ugly duckling that would become the smartest, strongest boss-lady swan to conquer the pond one day.
Growing up Fighting My Asian Heritage
I had very low self-esteem growing up as a gangly, flat-chested, and acne-ridden Asian girl alongside my gorgeous red-headed and blonde-haired Canadian best friends. During my junior high and high school years, I was painfully aware of how the boys would swarm around my best friends and not me. My Hong Kong Chinese family immigrated to Canada in the mid-70s when I was 6 years old, so I was used to being overlooked and underestimated as a visible minority by the time I hit my teens. Growing up in this environment just made me more determined to carve out my own identity and find my way to shine through my intellect and creativity.
Like many Asian immigrant children in my time, I spent most of my childhood and teen years disassociating myself from my Asian heritage because it made me different and odd in the eyes of my Canadian friends. I refused to speak my native Cantonese Chinese language outside of my home. I preferred western food over Asian food. I dressed and groomed myself to look non-Asian and wanted nothing to do with the Chinese community and traditions that my parents tried to impose on me.
By the time I turned 16, I told my mom I would start dating but not think about marriage till I was in my 30s because I wanted to establish my career first. I declared that I would never marry a Chinese or Asian man as they were too chauvinistic and too short for my 5'7" height. I told her that I wanted to marry an African Canadian/America because I wanted gorgeous chocolate-skinned children. Oh, also, I would be open to having children out of wedlock if I could not find the right man. Can you imagine my poor mom's face as she tried to calmly process what her headstrong teenage daughter was telling her?
Perhaps that's why my mom gifted me a trip to visit my home city of Hong Kong for my 16th birthday present. In hopes that I would learn and accept my heritage.
My family had never been back to visit my home city of Hong Kong since we left in 1974. We left after my father died when I was 6 years old. My mom wanted to bring us to join her brother living in Canada so that she could create a better life for us. She was incredibly brave to bring my younger 4-year-old brother and me to start over in a country she had never been to. And with only limited spoken English proficiency and very limited life savings.
She remarried when I was 9. She and my stepfather worked extremely hard to build a comfortable life for us. She worked in the restaurant industry and my stepfather was a machinist with an oil pipe production company. They worked hard to buy our first home and provide a modest middle-class lifestyle for our family. Family vacations overseas were too expensive to consider, hence I was so touched when she offered the trip to Hong Kong to me.
Left to right: My brother and me at ages 9 & 11 discovering the freedom of bikes; me at 15 rocking the side braid; my Mom and me at 16 after I won my high school fashion show designer award.
I stayed in touch with my grandmother and my 5 aunts on my biological father's side in Hong Kong growing up. They were a big part of my early childhood as they helped to look after my brother and me when we were little. We wrote letters regularly (communication before computers, email and WhatsApp) and they sent the best care packages full of treats and clothing from Hong Kong.
My Grandmother and several of my aunts had come to visit us in Canada during my early teen years. My modern, successful aunts were great role models for me. Smart, strong, independent, beautiful and so fashionable. Their care packages filled with Hong Kong fashion made me the best-dressed teen in my high school and inspired my dream of becoming a fashion designer.
The 16th birthday trip to my home city and country changed my perspective on who I was and who I could be.
Finding Strength in My Heritage
After spending a summer with my Grandparents and aunts in Hong Kong, I felt like I could conquer the world. I discovered what it felt like to NOT be a visible minority. For the first time in my life, I felt attractive and discovered that my tallish, thin frame was aesthetically desired by Hong Kong standards.
I discovered delicious Hong Kong foods and learned about my favourite home-cooked dishes from my aunts. I fell in love with the modern technology, pop culture, music and fashion of Hong Kong during its heyday in the mid-80s. Although my Cantonese was laughable, I tried to communicate with it, even though my aunts were proficient in English.
I loved hearing stories from my grandmother and learning about my biological father. Going to visit monasteries and the gravesites of my dad, great-grandma and other ancestors made me appreciate the Asian family values and respect paid to the elderly. I learned to be proud of the heritage I belonged to.
Most of all, I saw examples of strong, successful and beautiful Asian women all around me. I saw what I could be in the future.
My mom was a smart woman. She knew the trip would make me more accepting of my Chinese heritage. When I returned to Canada, I actually wanted to go to Chinatown with my mom. I was interested in Dim Sum and trying to find the same kinds of foods that I discovered on my Hong Kong trip. My best memories of that year were of the bond that I was building with my mom and the long talks about our family history because I was now open to our culture and heritage.
Becoming a Reluctant Beauty Queen and Meeting Mr. Right
Two years after my Hong Kong trip, my mom had another idea that would change my life. She wanted me to join in Alberta's first-ever 1987 Miss Chinatown Pageant. I was mortified. One, I am against objectifying women in pageants. Two, I did not feel beautiful and certainly did not want to be in a beauty competition.
She was citing how I had on-stage experience from my fashion shows and fashion design competitions, how I had the composure and leadership skills from my years as chief editor of the yearbook club in high school, and how my Cantonese was so improved since my trip to Hong Kong. She was pleading with me every night at the dinner table for weeks and finally brought home the pageant brochure and application form for me to complete.
To appease my mom, I sat down and reviewed the brochure with her the night before the pageant application deadline. That's when I saw the prize list starting with "All 12 semi-finalists would receive a custom-made Chinese 'Cheung Sam' dress".
As a budding fashion designer, that was the prize that caught my eye. I didn't consider the list of prizes for the winner or 2nd and 3rd runner-up as I didn't think of making it that far. But I thought I had a chance of getting into the 12 semi-finals and I wanted that traditional Chinese dress. So I indulged my mom and completed the application form, which she promptly delivered by hand to the organizing office the next morning.
After a series of interviews and tryouts, I made the cut and was one of the 12 final contestants for the first-ever Miss Chinatown Pageant in Alberta. I got my Chinese dress!
In retrospect, the experience was an amazing learning opportunity as a freshly turned 18-year-old. We were given professional make-up, grooming and modelling lessons from a well-known local modelling agency. We had dance lessons and media training. We had press events that took us to visit companies and venues usually not open to the public and all of it was reported in the local news media. (I am thankful there weren't any social media platforms back then.)
Then came our first live performance in our Gala Talent Show held in May of 1987, one month ahead of the actual pageant. While other contestants danced, sang and played musical instruments of some kind, I decided to feature my fashion design talent and created a skit, complete with a script, sound effects and stage props. I did a big reveal at the end of the 3-minute skit where I modelled an evening gown of my design. I was competing on my terms with a unique talent that set me apart from the competition and I won the talent show.
My skit performance required someone to help me with the music and sound effect cues. The production company assigned a tall, smiley Asian young man to help me with my performance. I was impressed by how enthusiastically he helped me during the full day of rehearsals and how supportive he was during the live performance.
Most Asian young men in the community were standoffish and cool. He was unassuming and friendly with a bright, infectious smile. With the chaotic events of the day, I didn't even get the sound assistant's name or thank him properly for his help with my performance.
That was the first time I met Mr. Right. This mystery man left a strong first impression and I hoped that he would be part of the production crew for the day of the pageant in June.
When the day of the pageant finally came, I was so nervous and busy with rehearsals that I had forgotten about the smiley sound assistant from the talent show. We broke for an early dinner before the evening live show and that's when I saw my smiley sound assistant who was part of the stage production crew that day.
Awkward greetings and glances ensued, but we never got the opportunity to chat as we were both busy with our respective tasks for the live show. The only thing he said to me was "Good luck!" with a huge encouraging smile as I was about to make my first stage entry.
Two hours, 8 costume changes, a dance performance, a bathing suit interview segment and 2 local celebrity performances later, it was time to announce the winner of Alberta's first-ever 1987 Miss Chinatown.
I remember going through the list of who I thought would win as we awaited the results. I clapped excitedly for the 2nd runner-up and 1st runner-up. I was in anticipation along with the audience wondering who would be the winner. I remember looking around at the other girls wondering who it would be when the announcer said, "The winner of the 1987 Miss Chinatown is...Au Yin!" (Insert my stunned jaw drop here.)
Left to right: My official portrait as a finalist, my mom's blurry photo of the stage of the winning moments, and my official Miss Chinatown portrait.
Once the curtains closed I was bombarded with hugs and kisses from the other contestants surrounding me on the winner's podium. Suddenly, the beaming smile of the sound assistant from the talent show burst through the crowd to shake my hand with congratulations.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward me in the noisy crowd. "What's your name?" I shouted above the crowd. It was so noisy I could hardly hear his reply. I thought I heard, "Danny". Then I shouted back, "I'll see you at the after-party!" He nodded and was lost in the crowd as a new layer of people surrounded me with congratulations.
After all the press interviews at the pageant venue, it was already past midnight when I arrived at the afterparty. My mom was still on her proud-mom high and could not wait to take me around to her friends for more photos. I smiled through my complete exhaustion and played along.
I was the reluctant beauty pageant contestant who became the beauty queen. That night was for my mom who was beaming with pride and over the moon happy to have me finally in her Chinatown community in such a big way.
"Danny" the sound guy was nowhere to be seen that evening and I soon forgot about him as my Miss Chinatown title had me fully booked with new adventures in the months to follow.
Fate and an Awkward Unofficial First Date
A month after winning the pageant, my next big gig was the city's annual summer festival parade. It was a 5-kilometre parade route through the city centre, complete with floats and marching bands and various performers to kick off the annual summer festival.
This was the first time the Chinatown community entered a float into the parade. The newly crowned winners of the pageant were to be the main attraction from atop the float. Together with the 1st and 2nd runner-ups, we endured the long day of waving and smiling until our arms and cheeks were stiff and cramped. We were proud to promote Chinatown and our float even won "best float" for that year's parade.
After a 7-hour day in the elements, I still had to attend a banquet dinner to celebrate with the pageant organizers and various Chinatown committee members. I made a wardrobe change in the Chinatown Community Hall gymnasium changing room and took a shortcut through the gymnasium to get to the banquet venue.
As I walked through the gym I could hear the bouncing of a basketball and saw one tall figure at the end of the gym shooting hoops. As I got closer, I realized it was "Danny", the smiley sound assistant. It turns out he had been a volunteer for the parade and he had been walking in front of the float all day as one of the banner bearers.
At the banquet dinner, the production crew director purposely sat "Danny" next to me at our table of 12. He had noticed our exchanges during the talent show and the day of the pageant and decided to play matchmaker for us. The crew director officially introduced us to each other and that's when I learned "Danny" was actually Stanley.
It was the most awkward unofficial first date with all eyes on us watching our every interaction.
I found out that evening why Stanley smiled so much. He was a new foreign student from Hong Kong who arrived only 6 months earlier and did not speak much English. He would often respond with a smile and a nod when I spoke English to him as he processed how to respond.
It was difficult to talk that evening with all eyes watching us. I had never felt so many shades of red on my face as we exchanged phone numbers and set up our first coffee date with the grinning audience of 12 at our table watching.
The next week we met at a university coffee shop and managed to converse somehow with my limited Cantonese and his broken English. Most of the Asian guys in our community came off as too cool and too macho for my liking, hence, I never even considered dating one.
Stanley was different. He was tall (almost 6 feet), a fitness buff who didn't smoke or drink, and very easy-going and fun-loving. He was chivalrous, genuine and unassuming which was refreshing. I wasn't sure if we could overcome the language gap to communicate deeper, but what I enjoyed throughout our interactions was the kindness he demonstrated in his willingness to help others.
The Prize of a Lifetime Out of My Life's Greatest Loss
At 18 years old, I was about to start college in another city and was not looking for a serious relationship. Stanley and I started dating casually that summer and I brought him home to meet my parents to ease my mom's worries about the stranger I befriended from Hong Kong.
I was surprised at how my mom almost adopted him immediately and invited him to dinner anytime he wanted. Stanley was over the moon happy to have home-cooked Chinese meals and someone to talk to in Cantonese. There were times when I thought to myself, who's dating him, me or my mom?
Stanley and I continued to date through my first and second years of college. I would come home to visit every other weekend and he would sometimes visit me at the college. We even wrote weekly letters to each other. (Romance before mobile phones and the internet)
Every dinner with my family, Stanley fit in more and more like a part of my family. By the end of college, Stanley and I were in a serious relationship.
During this time, my mom's lung cancer came back after a 4-year remission. This time the cancer was more aggressive and she endured relentless chemotherapy that made her so frail toward the end. Shortly after my 20th birthday, she passed away.
Stanley had truly become a part of my family during the last year of my mom's life. I was still away finishing college in another city and Stanley would help take my mom to her treatments and take her on outings to Chinatown on days when she was well enough. He even helped to babysit my little 2-year-old sister.
In a heart-to-heart conversation with my mom a month before her passing, she had asked me if Stanley and I could get married soon so that she could be there. I laughed at the idea as we were still finishing our degrees and we were so young. Stanley and I had not even had that thought yet.
I told her not to worry as she would be around to see me get married when we were ready and to see her grandchildren. At that time, I could not accept the thought that she would not be there for all these future milestones.
In that last heart-to-heart, my mom gave me a final life-changing idea before she passed. She planted the idea that Stanley and I would someday have a life together as husband and wife.
We may not have been ready for that step the year she passed, but we got married a year and a half later when I finished college and was ready to start life in a new city together with Stanley. My mom was smart. She knew Stanley was a keeper.
In over 30 years of marriage, we have been blessed with 2 amazing sons and a lifetime of adventure that has taken us all around the world. My epic 80s romance has blossomed into a lifetime of romantic novel box sets with many editions still in the making.
All the while, I know in my heart that my mom has been guiding me along the way.
Continuing to Work on Our Happily-Ever-After
Happily-ever-after doesn't just happen, it's hard work and requires the care and attention equivalent to what is invested in any career. Highs and lows will help the relationship grow. Mutual respect and support for each other as individuals through life changes and challenges make us even closer.
My love of a lifetime started with my epic 80s romance as the reluctant beauty queen who met her Mr. Right backstage. Happily-ever-after takes work and commitment that the fairytales and Rom-Coms don't tell you about. We are blessed to have over 3 decades together thus far.
Check out my blog The Work of Love where I reflect on 3+ decades of married life experience, with 3+ things I would tell newlyweds to prepare for the work of lasting love.
One thing I know for sure is, love and appreciation should be shared year-round, not just on Valentine's Day.
I would love to hear your comments!
What's your favourite Rom-com and why?
What do you think is the secret to a lasting relationship?
How can we make every day Valentine's Day?
Thank you for spending time on AYCLimitless.com
Please share and subscribe if you enjoyed your time on the site.
Kommentare