Gender isn’t this bottomless pit of drama trauma.

It isn’t decades of therapy or the dread of being responsible for breaking family’s intergenerational curses. 

Gender is play. Gender is triumph. Spectacular beauty. 

Gender is being completely awestruck. Seeing the stage lights wrap around your best friend’s fuzzy ears while they sing a Cantonese rendition of Crazy For You. It’s literally crashing into someone backstage while I’m trying to take a picture and thinking, “now that’s a rom-com worthy meet cute.” It’s getting to hug everyone that’s ever cheered me on because I swear to god, every queer Asian in New York is at this freaking event. 

Gender is, actually, not knowing what anyone’s gender is, because gender doesn’t matter anymore when everyone is hole-covered-but-bulges-out HOTHOTHOT. 

This is my very favorite thing to do: witness my Asian-American community living their fullest queerest selves. Every photo I take gives me permission to stop taking things so seriously and live more playfully! That’s all I hope for: that other queer Asian-American queers will see my photos and give them permission to continue their journey. 

This is what Bubble_T Fruity 5 looked like from where I was standing. Happy Pride!