Respect, Resilience, and Unwanted Belly Touches: A Memoir

Do you hate your family? I don't. Well maybe sometimes. But growing up, I had one family member who consistently annoyed the fuck out of me and made my life miserable basically every time I saw her. One of my aunts would come over all the time unannounced (which alone, I think, is pretty fucking rude). Every time she came over, I hated that she would always inspect me, look me up and down, and without fail, comment about my looks. 100% of the time, the comment was about my looks concerning my weight.

Unsolicited Advice as a Form of Body Shaming in Asian Cultures

I was an overweight child. My childhood consisted of eating so much shit, not sleeping well and not being regulated. That’s a whole book. Also, probable book coming in 2026.

We lived on top of my parents' convenience store where we ate delicious, nutritious food that my mom always made. It was very good. But we also ate fast food and so much processed food from the freezer and cans.

I ate canned versions of foods before I ever realized they were real-life foods like Spam. Actually, we didn't even have Spam. We had a knockoff Spam, which I understand is a Canadian version called, “Kam.” I don't know if it's still made because I don't eat that shit anymore. Oh, I found it online. It was… not the worst, actually. 

Quite frankly, I ate a lot. I ate a lot because I was fed a lot. Many immigrant kids say: “Oh, my parents were very poor and didn't eat much when they were growing up. So, now they overfeed us.” That's common, especially for some cultures, including Asian cultures, where parents show their way of loving or caring by feeding and providing basic needs.

So, my parents fed us (me and my siblings) all the time, as much as possible. Also, I didn't go out that much and I wasn't that active. Anytime I tried to be active, I would get a cramp because I had just eaten. Don’t think I don’t see this very simple negative spiral pattern. I do. But at the time I don’t think I did. 

There was a long period of my childhood and my life where I was, to varying degrees, overweight.

Whenever this one aunt came over, she would have to say something about it. She would walk into my home and tell me I look bigger than before or a little smaller than before (usually bigger, but in fairness kids are supposed to grow). There were times where she came right up to me and touched my belly on the front or the side. To be clear, there was no fucking consent, she would just do it. I was just there to take this shit treatment.

She often made comments and gave unsolicited advice, too. “You should exercise more,” “Eat less,” or “Drink more lemon water.” She even suggested to me, “You should move around when you're sitting and watching TV,” which I did not want to do. I did not want anything to disturb my TV watching.” Wow, thanks. Just groundbreaking shit.

My aunt would just come over, bring snacks, and call me fat. I hated it when she came over, and we went to her house. I hated it when everybody always gaslighted me. My parents made excuses, “Oh, that's just how Korean people are.” Oh, yeah, is that how Korean people are? Then, I fucking hate Korean people.

She did this throughout my whole childhood – I fucking hated this so much.

At one of my childhood birthdays, there was a chocolate cake and it was my turn to receive a slice. I remember so vividly that she just looked at me, took the plate of cake away, and said, “Oh, why don't you just have some water.”

I found this particularly unfair. She had kids, too, her sons were my cousins. My parents never body shamed or criticized her kids. I know that it's not a tit for tat, but I am often amazed that one relative or parent will get away with criticizing, pretty much abusing, someone else's child and it doesn't happen the other way around.

Inaction Makes You Complicit 

Although my parents never really commented on my weight (I  mean, they were the ones who caused it), I don't recall ever feeling blatantly criticized or shamed by them. However, the fault lies with them because they never stood up for me – I do think of it as abuse. 

My parents let this happen in front of their eyes. Every time this aunt or her husband criticized me, my parents would uncomfortably laugh as if it was nothing. They were complicit in my whole childhood, letting these older Korean people make fun of me and my weight.

One of the underlying problems is how some cultures are hierarchical, where it's like we must respect an older person as if respect means allowing them to say whatever they fuck they want to say about you. Even if it's really rude and abusive  – especially, normalized body shaming in Asian culture where it still exists.

I would say my aunt’s actions and my parents’ inaction were abuse. And I was a child, so I will call that child abuse. You can't change my mind about that. But of course I welcome a good argument and discourse. Write me at bothered@juliekimcomedy.com. 

Words Hurt and So Do Belly Touches

Some people say when you become an adult or a parent, you will understand how hard your parents had it and why they did what they did. Except now that I'm a parent, I look back and recognize what happened to me was so messed up. I would never say shit like that to my daughter or to any other child, family or not.

Another thing about this aunt: SHE WAS FAT. She who always commented on my weight and called me fat, was fat her entire life AND she always wore tight clothes. I always thought that she looked like a sausage in its casing, but I was never allowed to say that. I was never allowed to say anything about her weight and that is the problem.

You’re just expected to take it. You just let these older people say whatever they want to you, even if it ruins your self-esteem and your childhood.

You know what happened to me? Anytime anybody commented on my weight, I would eat more because I would get sad, or think, well, I might as well just keep eating, since I'm so gross. I had eating disorders starting from age 10 until… well i’m still a bit messed up now. 

My aunt’s husband was just a little guy. He looked like a little rat, but I couldn't say that to him, could I? He's dead now. I would never say that to a person. Because it’s ridiculous to talk like that. 

Not Lost in Translation: Childhood Trauma

I don’t speak Korean despite it being the first language I learned because my parents were new to the country when I was born. Once I started going to school, I unlearned it, and my parents would blame me for my lack of interest. As the grown adults in the picture, they could have made that happen if they really wanted me to keep learning and keep being immersed in my culture. But they did not.

The lack of will, I say, was on my parents. I say that as a parent as well. I blame myself for everything my child does wrong and right – there's a lot of both.

When I was a child, we would go to Koreatown in Toronto. My parents allowed old Korean people to say, “Oh, you don't speak Korean. You're bad.” or “What's wrong with you?” Sometimes “What’s wrong with you?” was rhetorical but sometimes these old fucks would actually expect an answer from me. Or shame. Korean people love to shame, I thought as a child. My parents just let strangers chastise me as they stood there and laughed uncomfortably and/or said nothing. I see this now as a huge betrayal.

My parents would never stand up to older folks in their hierarchical world where, if someone's older, then they can say whatever the hell they want.

I get the factors and expectations that are ingrained in Korean culture. But at the end of the day, it is abuse. They were just as complicit in letting these other people bully me. 

Asian Resilience as a Way to Survive 

People love to say, “Oh, Asian people are so resilient.” My theory is that a lot of us are resilient because we were treated like shit as children. 

It's one thing to be an Asian kid and not come from a family where your parents explicitly support you, hug you, or say, “I love you.” Even the absence of explicit affirmations is not great, although, I get where your people meet you is where they're at and they’ve gone through some shit. 

Sometimes I wonder how people talk about the lack or the death of Asian people in senior management positions and leadership positions at the workplace. Well, maybe it’s because many of us were raised to “just take it,” like abuse and bad treatment from older people or an authority figure (this is completely unscientific). 

My parents told me to never talk back to anyone, whether it was a boss or teacher, school or the workplace – take it, be quiet and don't talk back.

That's exactly how I was raised to be with these people who quite literally abused me in my own home or in the presence of my parents who were supposed to be my protectors.

Maybe that had to do why I rejected my culture really early on because every Korean person that walked into my home was fucking rude to me. This is the system where, if you're younger and there's an older person, you have to: 

• respect them,

• let them say whatever they want to you,

• bow to them. 

And when they get older, you're supposed to respect them even more and take care of them. I'm not bowing to people who liked fucking called me fat and gave me worse eating disorders. I say, fuck that. 

Blind Respect for Elders

One reason old Korean people love commenting on weight all the time is because they look at children as just like receptacles, who you're supposed to be authoritative over. Every time somebody was rude, it would be like, “Oh, it's okay. You know, they grew up in a war, and commenting on how skinny or fat someone means that that person is not healthy or healthy.” 

I don't see how the hell that translates at all. I don't see how the act of looking at someone and seeing if they're healthy enough to live or be sick translates into body shaming a little girl for her whole childhood. The excuses they made were weird, “Oh yeah, it's because he was in a war. Let him call you fat.” How the fuck does that doesn't make any sense?

Maybe that had to do why I rejected my culture really early on because every Korean person that walked into my home was fucking rude to me. This is the system where, if you're younger and there's an older person, you have to: 

• respect them,

• let them say whatever they want to you,

• bow to them. 

And when they get older, you're supposed to respect them even more and take care of them. I'm not bowing to people who liked fucking called me fat and gave me worse eating disorders. I say, fuck that. 

I hate it. These comments were personal and not relevant to my existence or character. 

Nobody asked me how my day was going but that's part of the problem. That's why I've come to really want to have a career where I get to express myself. I was never able to express myself when I was younger.

What Would I Say To This Aunt?

Here's the thing, I am still angry because I have never told off these old people who did this to me when I was a child. 

And I have mixed feelings when it comes to my big fat fat shaming aunt because after she came to Canada, she sponsored my dad to come to Canada. In turn he brought my mom (Were they arranged or not? They won’t even tell us FFS), and then I was born and got to live in this most wonderful country. I love Canada, no cap. 

So in a way I quite literally owe my existence to this person who fat-shamed me my whole childhood. Easy to resolve? No, but I can be mad. And if you know me you know that I don’t really mind being mad. Productive anger or rage, and at least I’m doing something about it. Does this count as doing something about it? My analytics will be the judge. LOL 

The other part is that this aunt is an old lady now. What am I gonna do now? Tell her off for what she said to me when I was a child? I can't imagine when someone gets old enough that you might be talking to them for the last time ever. You don't want to bring up that conversation and say, “Hey, remember that a long time ago? Well, fuck you.” I can't do that. Wait, can I? 

Also, she's lucid. It's one thing to tell off an old relative for something you really want to get off your chest if they're not lucid. If she had dementia, then maybe say it? She doesn't really know, so I can't hurt her feelings, right? But how effective is that? That feels a little passive-aggressive, almost like talking about it on a podcast. 

My Relationship with this Aunt Now

A lot of people and many of our parents, especially immigrant parents, have it as an understatement to say they have gone through some shit, right? Everybody changes. Ultimately, I will say that over the years, of course, we all change, and this aunt has actually become someone I really like in my family. 

My aunt still comments on my body. If she ever does it to my daughter, I probably won't say anything. My daughter actually really likes her because she is the 고모 (gomo) that gives her $100 every time she sees her. My daughter being so small is like, “$100! I'm a millionaire!” 

Kids… lol.

Although it’s good vibes now, still, I really resent the bullying that happened in my childhood. I find that this is particularly damaging. I believe wholeheartedly that body shaming and talking about someone else's weight is a horrible thing to do. 

I have struggled with my weight for many reasons. One day, I might unpack it if I ever get the time to go to therapy, do a MasterClass, or watch a lot of TikToks in a row. But for now, I'm happy with where I am. So, how would I ever resolve this? I don't know if I would resolve this. I probably wouldn't. Probably the next time I see her, I'll just ask, “Can I have $100?”