Growing up in Asian societies, we learned early that sexuality was something to be hidden – a topic so taboo that even asking questions invited judgment. This silence bred shame, confusion, and isolation in us. Yet underneath our collective discomfort lies a universal truth: our sexuality is intrinsically connected to our humanity, our joy, and our healing.

We are four Asian women breaking this silence today. From Malaysia to Singapore, from China to the Philippines, our stories weave together experiences of shame, revelation, and ultimately, liberation. Through our vulnerability, we hope to illuminate a path forward – not just for ourselves, but for anyone who has felt the weight of sexual shame in a culture that often chooses silence over understanding.

In Part 1 of Breaking the Silence, we explored how childhood experiences and cultural silence shape our relationship with sexuality through the stories of Dr. Martha Tara Lee and Eve Lim Wei Jia. Now, we continue with two more powerful voices. Brightly Abby shares her journey of reclaiming her body from society’s judgments, while Clementine Liu reveals how professional roles intersect with personal growth in addressing sexuality. These stories complete our quartet of Asian women breaking the silence around sexual shame.

Brightly Abby’s Story – My Body Is Not Your Problem to Manage

For the longest time, I felt like my body was something I had to manage—not for myself, but for how others perceived it. Having a fuller chest meant constantly dealing with stares, comments, and unsolicited advice. It didn’t matter what I wore; people always had something to say. “That’s too revealing.” “That’s too tight.” “You should cover up.” I could be wearing a turtleneck, and someone would still find a way to make it about my body. On top of that, I carried shame about pleasure too. Growing up, self-exploration was treated like something dirty or wrong. Even as an adult, I still had to unlearn the idea that enjoying my body meant I was doing something inappropriate. It took me a long time to shake off that guilt and realize that my body—and what I choose to do with it—is mine, period.

Realizing that none of this was my problem. Other people’s discomfort? Not my responsibility. Feeling guilty for experiencing pleasure? Society’s nonsense. Education was a game-changer—the more I learned about my body, the more I saw how much misinformation I had internalized. I also surrounded myself with sex-positive people, which made me realize: my body is not inappropriate. Their reactions are. And honestly? The moment I stopped acting like these topics were taboo and started talking about them like they were normal (because they are), the shame started to disappear.

Your body isn’t too much. Your pleasure isn’t wrong. If others make you feel ashamed of your chest, your body, or your curiosity—that’s on them, not you. You do not exist to make others comfortable. If you’re struggling, start small—educate yourself, find a supportive community, and remember that shame thrives in silence. The more you talk about it, the less power it has.

That people shouldn’t have to carry the weight of other people’s perceptions. That a fuller chest isn’t an invitation for opinions, assumptions, or judgment. That pleasure isn’t a privilege—it’s a part of being human. And that instead of telling people to cover up, we should start telling everyone else to mind their own business.

• Self-Love and Pleasure Advocate & Content Creator, Brightly Abby (@brightly.abby), Philippines

Clementine Liu’s Story – Breaking Professional Silence: A Healthcare Provider’s Journey

When I worked at a national cancer institute as a case manager, I oversaw a quality-of-life survey for cancer survivors. One question in the survey asked whether survivors had experienced any difficulties in their sexual life during the past seven days.

While supervising a male colleague as he facilitated the survey, I noticed that he skipped this particular question. Perplexed, I approached him after the patient left the clinic room. He avoided looking me in the eyes—clearly uncomfortable and ashamed—and explained that he didn’t think a cancer patient undergoing treatment would have any interest in sex. I found this assumption to be completely misguided.

In my experience, when patients feel safe and comfortable, they are willing to share intimate challenges. They discuss issues ranging from whether they should engage in sexual activity with their partner during treatment, to how they can please their partner during chemotherapy—a concern most often raised by female patients or caregivers—and even how to maintain their male virility despite the effects of aging and treatment.

I deeply believe that sexual health is as important as any other aspect of quality of life for cancer survivors—regardless of disease stage, gender, or age. Frontline staff working closely with these patients should receive appropriate training and engage in self-reflection about their own perspectives on sexual health. This allows us to better support our patients rather than shy away from a topic that is crucial to their overall well-being. After all, if we allow ourselves to feel ashamed, how can we help our patients overcome their own vulnerabilities?

I always thought I was open enough to discuss sexuality-related topics, having long advocated for the importance of sexual health in the healthcare setting. Yet, I recently experienced a humbling reminder of my own internalized taboos.

While having a meal at a café with a friend, her 18-year-old son, and another male psychologist, we were discussing STD prevention—covering topics like condom accessibility and common STDs—when I suddenly felt a wave of shame and attempted to change the subject. I believed that discussing such matters in a family setting was inappropriate, even though the discussion was entirely relevant to our professional interests and important to everyone.

What helped me overcome that moment was my friend’s gentle encouragement. As a fellow counsellor, she urged me to rejoin the conversation, which allowed me to confront and eventually understand the roots of my discomfort. Reflecting later, I recognized that my reaction was heavily influenced by deeply ingrained cultural values. In Chinese culture, discussions about sexuality are often seen as private or even taboo—especially in intergenerational settings where maintaining respect and “face” is crucial.

For those grappling with similar feelings, I recommend exploring the origins of your discomfort. Delve into how cultural conditioning might shape your responses, and consider seeking supportive environments—whether through training, professional supervision, peer discussions, or personal therapy—to work through these emotions. Embracing a sex-positive attitude not only fosters personal growth but also empowers us to help clients, parents, and caregivers engage in open, informed conversations about sexual health with their loved ones.

I wish society would understand that conversations about sexuality are not inherently inappropriate. Rather than shaming these discussions, we should differentiate between harmful taboos and constructive, educational dialogues that empower individuals to make informed, respectful choices.

Both experiences have reinforced for me that confronting our internalized taboos is essential—not only for our personal growth but also for creating an environment where every aspect of a person’s well-being is valued and supported.

• Psychotherapist & Trainer Ms. Clementine Liu in private practice, Singapore

Key Themes and Takeaways from Part 2:

• The importance of reclaiming ownership of our bodies from societal judgment
• How professional roles can both challenge and deepen our understanding of sexuality
• Breaking the cycle of shame in healthcare and professional settings
• The impact of cultural values on discussing sexuality across generations
• The need for professional training and self-reflection in addressing sexual health
• How personal healing can enhance our ability to help others

If you didn’t read it, you may go to part 1 here. Our stories share a common thread – the journey from silence to voice, from shame to empowerment. Each of us has walked this path, finding our way through education, community, and the courage to question deeply ingrained cultural narratives. We’ve learned that shame thrives in isolation, but begins to dissolve when met with understanding, knowledge, and connection.

If you found these stories meaningful, we encourage you to read Part 1, where Dr. Martha Tara Lee and Eve Lim Wei Jia share their powerful journeys of healing from childhood experiences and cultural silence.

Ready to begin your own healing journey? Reach out to any of us for support:

Dr. Martha Tara Lee – www.eroscoaching.com/profile

Eve Lim Wei Jia – https://americanboardofsexology.org/sexologist/eve-wei-jia-lim/

Brightly Abby – @brightly.abby

Ms. Clementine Liu – https://aspacebetween.com.sg/therapists/clementine-liu

Remember: Your journey to sexual healing and empowerment is valid. You deserve support, understanding, and the freedom to explore your sexuality without shame.