Content warning: This story discusses mental health and suicide. 

As a Filipina who's been on the New Zealand Tinder dating scene, I’ve experienced people being hyper-fixated on my ethnicity.

I will never forget the time a guy thought it was appropriate to open the conversation with: “Aren’t you exotic? You look small, I think you’ll fit in my cupboard.” (Safe to say, ghosted).

Or when a Pākehā ex-boyfriend would constantly talk about my “brown skin” and “Asian eyes”. 

While some people would argue that it’s a compliment – these are the types of things that leave so many of us on the receiving end feeling dehumanised.

Re: News spoke to Filipinas about the experiences they face while dating in New Zealand. Here’s what they had to say. 

‘I just can’t subject myself to that anymore’

Keziah Sarmiento was surprised by the dozens of people who “Super Liked” her on Tinder when she made an overnight stop in Christchurch in 2019.

She was getting five times more likes and matches than she would when she was swiping in Tāmaki Makaurau, where she lives.

But it was a jarring experience for her when most of the white men she matched with were so hyper-fixated on her ethnicity – something she only experienced in real life, but not on an app:

“What kind of Asian are you? I wonder what you feel like.” 

“I’ve never been with an Asian before.”

And the message that made her jaw drop: “I’ve never had Asian pussy before.” 

When asked how it made her feel, she said it was very demoralising. 

For Keziah, a switch flicked for her overnight when she realised that her three white ex-boyfriends in Tāmaki Makaurau only dated Asian girls.

She said she never felt good with her experiences with them because she knew they would just give her up for another Asian woman. So she decided to stop dating white guys.

“Even if you are a 100 out of 10 beautiful white man, I just can’t subject myself to that anymore,” the 24-year-old said.

How being sexualised by men affects our sense of self

When Charlotte Avery started dating between the ages of 17 to 18, she got bombarded with questions that focused on her race.

As a Filipina-Pākehā living in Pōneke, she felt that she was not desirable because she was “not white enough” in a society that upheld eurocentric beauty.

Charlotte said at the same time, she also dealt with guys who found being Asian or Filipino “hot” in a way that cheapened her identity.

She said she received some comments from these men, which weren’t the compliments they thought it was: 

“You know I used to just be into white women, but I’m so happy to have an Asian woman. White girls are so boring.”

Charlotte said the men always expected you to be happy when they liked you for being Asian - and putting down white girls did not make her feel better.

Because she looked ethnically ambiguous, she said she noticed that men who had specific fetishes, like Japanese anime fantasies, would get turned on when she confirmed she was Asian. 

“Like they literally got the wrong Asian, why are they turned on by this? I’m not even the right ethnicity for their little anime fantasy,” the 21-year-old said.

Lexie Rivera has had a similar experience of being sexualised from a young age. 

She moved to Christchurch from Pōneke for university at the age of 17, and she met her ex there who was five years older than her.

When Lexie first moved in with him, she was isolated from her family and did not know anyone in the new city. 

“I was mourning cutting contact with my family and he was still pressuring me into having sex, even though I was grieving.”

She also didn’t know how to drive and was reliant on him to go places. “I would have to ask permission if I wanted to go out.” 

Gradually, she realised her ex “only saw her as a sexual object”. 

“He showed no interest in what I wanted to do. We just stayed at home a lot and had sex,” the 23-year-old said.

After a messy breakup, Lexie said she spiralled into a deep depression to a point of weekly suicidal tendencies.

Even now, she still has nightmares about it. “I genuinely think I have PTSD from that relationship because I was so young.”

As she processed their breakup, she remembered telling him about how she was raised by her titas (aunties) and cousins to be “a good wife”.

“The way I was raised as a Filipina was that the wife would just listen to the husband. He conditioned me to be the same, to be compliant.

“I genuinely think he did what he did towards the end because he knew I was Filipino, and he knew that I was scared and would never say anything against it,” the 23-year-old said.

‘It can have a huge impact on our mental wellbeing’

The historical stereotypes of Asian women – that are still pervasive today – often paint us as passive, exotic and needing to be desired. 

It can also lead to the fetishization of Asian women. 

Speaking to media outlet USA TODAY last year, sociologist Nancy Wang Yuen said “the shadowed side” of these stereotypes can lead Asian women to become “targets of hate, sexual violence and physical violence when they aren’t perceived as fully human and deserving of rights to be safe”. 

A Filipina-American psychologist based in Tāmaki Makaurau, Nicole Schoombie, said the fetishization or hypersexualisation of Asian women is when people exclusively date or are sexually aroused by the Asian stereotype (while clarifying this should not be conflated with a diagnosable fetishistic disorder).

When Asian women are eroticized or fetishized, the people who tend to do that will only date [Asians] and they'll say those ‘compliments’ which are actually microaggressions,” the 33-year-old said.

Nicole said fetishization may cause everyday harm on Asian women’s mental well-being and make them feel stripped of their individuality.

“Are we going on a date with someone because of the way we look? Or what society thinks that we should be like? Or because this guy really likes me?”

“It can even be seen to have traumatic effects [in our] self-esteem and self-worth, so it can have a huge impact on our psychological well-being,” she said.

Nicole, who is married to a white man, said that one way to break down the racial barriers would be to talk about it with our partners, regardless of their race.

“In some ways, you can share with them and educate how [these comments and attitudes] can even make us feel like we’re not even human.”

She also said that not all partners may understand and advised people to reach out to support networks in the Asian and Filipino community. 

As for Lexie, she said she was able to get ACC counselling through the support of her university guidance counsellor.

“She would drive me to my ACC counselling sessions and I don’t know where I would be without her.” 

Through the help of counselling, she said she learned that she was being sexualised and seen as a sexual object way too young and was forced to grow up really quickly.

“That really helped me change my mindset and that what happened to me was not my fault.” 

Originally from the Philippines, Vivien moved to Aotearoa in 2017 in search for a more balanced lifestyle. While working as an operations leader for New Zealand’s largest travel agency, she is also completing her post-graduate diploma in journalism at Massey University. In the meantime, Vivien is enjoying being a freelance photographer and journalist and is especially passionate about honest, diversity reporting. 
Where to get help:

More stories: 

Why I kept my ex’s clothes

Breakups suck but sometimes you get a new jumper out of it.

When your Asian parents won’t let you date until marriage

“No one lives a better double life than the oldest daughter of an Asian family.”

People tell us why they ghost other people

Is it ever okay to ghost someone?