What Emi Woo possesses, very strongly, is an intention.
When I thought of Emi Woo's story, I realized there was none. What is the essence of Emi Woo? Realistically, there is none yet; this is just the beginning. But then I realized that what Emi Woo does possess, very strongly, is an intention—a deeply powerful one.
I love these — but I'm not sure if I'm brave enough to wear them.
A few years ago, I was at a market in Union Square, looking through a stand of handmade Japanese earrings. A girl next to me picked up a pair shaped like fried eggs and said, “I love these earrings, but I am not sure if I am brave enough to wear them.” And I thought, Wow, how afraid we are of being ourselves. How brave it is to live in this world and truly embody our authenticity. In the past, we needed a tribe to survive, and that primal necessity is still deeply ingrained in our minds. We want to belong, so hide our essence.
Saying YES to oneself is aligning our souls with our truest essence. And to me, that is how we embody our own personal style.
Authenticity is brave; it is powerful, and it is also quite scary. To me, it's the essence of style — wearing the fried egg earrings if they call you.
Realistically, anyone can be stylish by copying trends, but true style comes from daring to be authentic.
Am I less deserving of love because of my gender?
Growing up in Mexico in a traditional household—as the second child and a female, following a firstborn male—meant I was treated as “less than.” In highly traditional Mexican culture, the hierarchy is essentially God first, and the firstborn male second. When I was about five years old, my dad was invited to a local fishing TV show after winning a tournament. I remember quite vividly my dad trying to convince my brother to go with him, and my brother rejecting the offer. I remember begging him to take me instead, and him replying that my brother was the one going because he was a boy. I begged and begged, but he took my brother with him against his will. For me, as a child, it wasn't about being on television; it was about spending time with my dad, simply being with him. I was very attached to him. He passed away when I was seven, making that the first and last chance I ever had to share such an experience with him.
My mother, on the other hand, would repeatedly tell me what a disgrace it was to be female in this world. Even when I got my first period at thirteen, I remember her telling me how terrible the experience of womanhood would be. Naturally, given her sentiments toward women, she always favored my brother growing up, and I knew it was simply because he was male. Culturally, this sentiment manifested everywhere across the system. In school, at university, at work—you name it.
But the deepest problem was not just how my family treated me, or what the system told me. The problem was that I internalized those voices and wove a narrative that “being male was better.” That life would be easier if only I had been born a boy. I modified the way I dressed, the way I spoke, and the way I approached life. I leaned the most I could to the Yang. This wasn't truly about earning respect or fitting in; it stemmed from a deep, aching desire to be loved. A desire to be accepted and loved by my parents. For years I fought the sex I was assigned at birth, constantly thinking, I hate being a woman. It is so unfair.
They have what I want.
Then, I encountered the transfemme community. These individuals evoked a profound sense of awe within me. The same awe I experience when discovering a creek in the middle of the woods, or when observing a magnificent tree or a beautiful flower. A sense of profound admiration inspired only by divine creations. I asked myself, Why do I feel this way? The answer came easily: They have what I want. I wanted that courage, that strength, that fierce bravery to be who I truly am—to connect with my essence, and to stop hiding and pretending to be someone I am not. I wanted to embrace my feminine energy; I wanted to realign with my Yin.
What is queerness if not the authentic expression of oneself? If not a deep, profound self-love that dares to be faithful to one's true essence?
The true and profound self-love that queer people embody is a gift to this world. It is a gift the community has given specifically to me.
So, when it came to setting the intention of Emi Woo, I wanted to honor the magic the queer community brings to the world.
