This is 64: Yvonne Liu Responds to The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire

"I’m surprised—and delighted—to share my story with others, to let people know your past doesn’t equal your present."

From the time I was 10, I’ve been obsessed with what it means to grow older. I’m curious about what it means to others, of all ages, and so I invite them to take “The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire.”

Here, writer

Yvonne Liu

responds -Sari Botton

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Liu, 64, in a photo taken by her husband before going to a Lunar New Year celebration.

Yvonne Liu is a writer, adoptee, and mental health advocate. Over 1.5 million people read her HuffPost essay on why she kept her adoption a secret for over 60 years. She has written about mental illness, childhood trauma, and identity in The New York Times, The Rumpus, Salon, Newsweek, TodayShow.com, and NBC News. Yvonne is writing a memoir, I Talk to My Mother in the Clouds, about how she overcame a traumatic beginning as an abandoned newborn in Hong Kong, an orphan, and a daughter of a mentally ill adoptive mother. She was selected to participate in the 2023 Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference in nonfiction and is a Tin House workshop alum. Yvonne is passionate about writing her memoir to encourage others who grew up with secrets, shame, mental illness, and abuse. She lives in Los Angeles, California. Find her on Twitter and Instagram at @yvonneliuwriter.

How old are you?

64 

Is there another age you associate with yourself in your mind? If so, what is it? And why, do you think?

I recently returned from Hong Kong and visited the street where my birth mother left me in a stairwell. I’ve been thinking a lot about that newborn, the one who lived in an orphanage for 15 months and was adopted by a couple in America. My precarious origins are stamped within my soul and psyche. For decades, I didn’t want to connect with that baby—my inner child—but I’m glad I did. Doing so has enabled me to write my memoir and to heal.

Do you feel old for your age? Young for your age? Just right? Are you in step with your peers?

I feel just right for my age. I’ve never felt more alive because I’m finally doing what I was meant to do: write. My immigrant Chinese American parents didn’t encourage me to pursue writing, so I studied business and worked in the business world. I also raised three children and wrote for local outlets. Most of my friends are doing what they want to do: work full or part-time and pursue their passion. 

I recently returned from Hong Kong and visited the street where my birth mother left me in a stairwell. I’ve been thinking a lot about that newborn, the one who lived in an orphanage for 15 months and was adopted by a couple in America. My precarious origins are stamped within my soul and psyche.

What do you like about being your age?

I like not worrying as much. Almost none of the things I worried about happened. I also don’t care as much what people think of me. It’s been freeing to cut toxic people out of my life and say “no” more often. During my 40s, I minimized contact with my emotionally and physically abusive adoptive parents. I concentrated on doing the work to minimize generational trauma in my own family. I’m thankful to have great relationships with my three 20-something kids. My two daughters and I call ourselves “The Liu Ladies.” I also stopped doing the same things repeatedly with the same results. It’s been wonderful to see my kids grow into caring individuals pursuing their own dreams. It’s also cool that they’re proud of me.

Liu was adopted based on three photos taken at a Hong Kong orphanage. She is of an unknown age in this photo taken in 1959 or 1960.

What is difficult about being your age?

Families and friends dying. Knowing that my sweet and loving mother-in-law, who is in her 90s, is not doing well. Acknowledging that I may not see grandchildren graduate from college or get married. Accepting the fact that there are fewer years before me than behind me. Still, I hope I’ll be writing in my 90s. 

What is surprising about being your age, or different from what you expected, based on what you were told?

I never dreamed in a million years I would publish in major outlets. Although I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was a little girl, I thought it was beyond my reach at my age since I didn’t study journalism or English. When I first pitched articles and essays, it was rejection after rejection or crickets. But I persisted because I believe it’s important to share stories about mental health and childhood trauma. Feedback from people who read my work, or who heard me on The New York Times Modern Love podcast and others, encourages me to continue. Many said I gave them a voice. I wrote what they felt. Some said they felt less alone. 

I’ve never felt more alive because I’m finally doing what I was meant to do: write. My immigrant Chinese American parents didn’t encourage me to pursue writing, so I studied business and worked in the business world.

I’m also surprised to be so open and vulnerable. My parents’ traditional Chinese beliefs and culture filled my life with stigma and shame. Shame about being abandoned and adopted, shame about my mother’s mental illness and my own struggles. When I saw friends after months of pandemic lockdown and restrictions, they said things like, “Wow, we didn’t know you went through so much. We had no idea.” Many Asian American friends said we need to talk about mental illness more. People of color seek professional mental health services at lower rates than Whites. Stigma, the availability of culturally competent counselors, as well as access, are some reasons. I wish my mother had received the treatment she desperately needed. I wish I had gotten help earlier. 

I’m also surprised—and delighted—to share my story with others, to let people know your past doesn’t equal your present.

What has aging given you? Taken away from you?

It’s given me wisdom, perspective, and peace. It’s also given me time. I’m no longer working in an office or raising children. Aging has taken away a sense of unlimited possibilities. 

Left, The author with her adoptive parents at a wedding in Illinois when she was 4; Right, Liu, in her early 40s, on a family trip to Northern California with her three children, who are now in their 20s.

How has getting older affected your sense of yourself, or your identity?

My identity has been fraught and complicated. For decades, I couldn’t even answer simple questions like, “Where are you from? What are you?” My adoptive parents insisted I keep my origins and birthplace a secret. An orphan official gave me my first name: Yeung Choi Sze. I was named after the street where my mother abandoned me. My adoptive parents gave me my second name: Ee Ee Chen. I don’t like the name Ee Ee. Thankfully, they registered me at school with my English name, Yvonne. When I married, I became Yvonne Liu. Now, I’m glad to be me—Yvonne.

Many Asian American friends said we need to talk about mental illness more. People of color seek professional mental health services at lower rates than Whites. Stigma, the availability of culturally competent counselors, as well as access, are some reasons.

What are some age-related milestones you are looking forward to? Or ones you “missed,” and might try to reach later, off-schedule, according to our culture and its expectations? 

I’m looking forward to next year when one daughter gets married, and the other earns her doctorate in clinical psychology. Given our family history, I’m so glad she’s pursuing that field. It would also be incredible to hold a grandchild someday. One of the happiest days of my life was seeing and holding my first child in the delivery room. She was the first flesh and blood I’d ever touched, or at least remembered touching.

Sadly, I missed every milestone with my biological family. I also missed an emotionally stable childhood, one free of domestic violence. However, parenting three kids was in a way healing because I gave my children what I missed.

Someday, hopefully seeing my name in a Publishers Marketplace book deal announcement is a milestone I’ll treasure. In a sense, I’ve been writing this book in my mind for years. I wasn’t emotionally ready to write it when I was younger. I feel I’ve only just begun. 

What has been your favorite age so far, and why? Would you go back to this age if you could?

Now. There’s no time like the present. Also, nowadays, there are a multitude of ways to improve your craft. I’ve attended excellent writing classes, workshops, and conferences virtually. That said, I’m excited to attend my first in-person writing conference at the Bread Loaf conference at Middlebury College this year. 

Left, Liu at 31 in a Los Angeles garden celebrating the end of her breast cancer treatment; Right, Liu in her childhood home Michigan when she was a preteen.

Is there someone who is older than you, who makes growing older inspiring to you? Who is your aging idol and why?

Any writer who is writing and publishing in their 50s, 60s and beyond inspires me. I don’t idolize anyone. 

What aging-related adjustments have you recently made, style-wise, beauty-wise, health-wise?

Style-wise, I never used to wear sleeveless tops or dresses for years because of a breast cancer surgery scar. And then I started to wear them but have since developed fat deposits under my arms. Beauty-wise, I started to use better sunscreen. Health-wise, I try to avoid white bread and white potatoes. However, when I eat out, I don’t restrict myself. 

It seems like every five years, my chiropractor—who I only see during a rare back blowout—tells me to cut some activity. First, it was dancing that involved lots of twisting, then it was hiking. But I still walk regularly. It’s a special time because I connect with my birth mother then. It’s why the title of my memoir-in-progress is I Talk to My Mother in the Clouds. 

Sadly, I missed every milestone with my biological family. I also missed an emotionally stable childhood, one free of domestic violence. However, parenting three kids was in a way healing because I gave my children what I missed.

What’s an aging-related adjustment you refuse to make, and why?

A year-and-a-half ago, I had knee surgery and couldn’t swim for months. It took time to build back my strength. I refuse to use a ladder to get out of the pool at the gym. I feel if I can hoist myself on to the side, I’m good. 

What’s your philosophy on celebrating birthdays as an adult? How do you celebrate yours?

I have no particular philosophy about celebrating birthdays. I guess I’m reaching a milestone next year. Getting older is a gift not everyone gets to experience, so I appreciate every year. For my birthday, my kids usually come home and we enjoy a special dinner. However, only one lives nearby now so it will be just her, my husband and me. I’m excited to celebrate another year of writing.