Top collage: Marta Parszeniew. I once asked my first boyfriend what his friends thought about me. Apparently they were amused that he was dating a Chinese girl, and teased him about "riding her like a Kawasaki. Growing up in New Zealand, I often grappled with being different. I never believed in Santa and rice was my go-to starch. By my late teens, I realized that being Chinese also gave me a typecast sexual identity: bashful, privately kinky, and rumored to be in possession of an extra snug, sideways vagina.