You look like a Japanese doll, your round face and China chop hairdo with bangs. You are told you were adopted, that one day, your real Japanese mother will come for you. You are given a name, Mishiro Yotonai.

You get lost in a department store in Tokyo, staring at the magic of a huge gum ball machine. You’ve never had gum but you already know what it is. You are amazed by the range of colors. Your mouth waters because you know it must be sweet tasting. 

When you turn, you realize you are all alone. But there’s no sense of panic or fear. You calmly wait for your real Japanese mother to show.

The elevator doors chime open and your adopted mother flies out of it, her ao dai trailing behind her. She grabs your hand. “What were you doing?” she asks. “Waiting for my real mother,” you answer.

Forty years later in a New York city restaurant, your sister tells the story of lying to you about being adopted. You are joined for dinner by her sons and their friends. Everyone’s laughing.

Then she sobers and says, “What a cruel thing to do.” You never took it as cruel. It was just a joke that you grew up with.

And you realize that you actually look more Korean now than Japanese.