Chapter 1: The Weight of Expectations

I find myself in tears as I write this, and I sincerely appreciate you taking the time to read my email. I'm an 18-year-old woman raised in a conservative environment in an LEDC. I always dress modestly, favoring long dresses and skirts over jeans when meeting men, believing this would shield me from being objectified. Yet, every romantic encounter I've had has led me to feel viewed solely as a sexual object.

The first guy I dated persistently pressured me for nude photos. Despite my attempts to explain my background, he only grew more demanding, insisting that my reluctance stemmed from "internalized misogyny." I felt ashamed, especially as he mocked my accent, a constant reminder of my modest origins in a small town. Eventually, I succumbed to his requests, feeling inadequate compared to girls from his urban lifestyle.

Now, I regret that decision, realizing I compromised my values for someone else's validation. The most disturbing aspect was what he said after receiving my photos. In a society where Han Chinese are a minority, he expressed a preference for my skin color and body type over that of his previous girlfriend, who was dark-skinned. His remarks about the color of my body parts were not only offensive but also deeply racist, reshaping my perception of myself.

I once felt indifferent about my appearance, but now I feel a sense of disgust when I look in the mirror. While I acknowledge that I fit conventional beauty standards, I now view my body as merely an object of desire, reflecting a troubling reality where girls alter their skin tone to match my complexion. People often inquire about my skincare routine to achieve pale skin, and I previously considered this a benefit. Yet, now, I grapple with the implications of being a Chinese woman in this context.

The second man I became involved with seemed genuinely interested in me at first. However, after a virtual intimate encounter, he bluntly confessed that he had no real feelings and could only see me as a sex object. I wished he had lied instead, as I had developed genuine feelings for him, feeling isolated and lonely. Despite our friendship, he often lashed out, accusing me of seeking attention from men.

The third guy I encountered, despite my modest attire, made sexual comments, criticizing my body while simultaneously shaming me for not being "sexual enough." While I recognize my part in these situations, I don't believe I deserve to be shamed. When men ask why I harbor resentment towards them, I offer only a brief explanation of my past experiences, only to be dismissed or told I must have provoked such behavior.

My animosity towards men isn't just due to bad dating experiences; it stems from growing up with an abusive father and witnessing similar behavior in my extended family. Strong women around me accepted this as normal, leading to a conflicted sense of what relationships should look like. When I confided in my mother about these experiences, she criticized my naivety but insisted that men are inherently like this, urging me to protect my modesty.

I yearn for romance and connection, yet I feel compelled to shield myself from the very reality that seems unavoidable. I often escape into manga and romance novels, hoping to find someone as kind and respectful as the fictional heroes I read about. However, I realize this is a fantasy. I spend hours reading, only to feel a wave of sadness when I return to reality. My current lifestyle leaves me feeling isolated, and social interactions amplify my loneliness.

My female friends struggle to understand my challenges in finding a good partner due to my appearance and background. Sometimes, I wish I were lesbian, as the disparity between fictional men and real-life ones feels insurmountable. People assure me that things will improve once I study or work abroad, but I remain skeptical. The notion that men are inherently driven by primal urges feels inadequate, especially when contrasted with the respectful characters in my favorite stories.

I hope to hear your perspective on this topic. My ideal partner isn't perfect but rather someone who takes responsibility and respects others as I do.

Thank you for taking the time to read my lengthy email.

Sincerely,

A Hopeful Heart

Response to the Letter

At the outset, I want to address your sign-off. Whether you intended to reference the term fujoshi—meaning "rotten girl" in Japanese manga culture—or if it's a reflection of your experiences, I believe in the power of self-naming. What we label ourselves can shape our identities. Self-deprecating humor can be harmless, but constant negative self-talk can become internalized.

You absolutely do not deserve to be slut-shamed, nor does anyone else. The shame lies entirely with those who pressured you into compromising your boundaries.

It's vital to recognize that characters in shoujo manga and romance novels are idealized versions of people. They are crafted to fulfill fantasies, and real-life individuals won’t match th