Kingston also cannot conceal her conflicting emotions about wanting to have a family of her own but fearing that to do so would only prove her mother right, that women are raised to be only wives and mothers. Jealous of Fa Mu Lan's ability to be swordswoman, wife, and mother, and of the woman warrior's network of support from her family, husband, and village, simultaneously Kingston is angry that she herself does not have any of these things. "Then," she writes, "I get bitter: no one supports me; I am not loved enough to be supported. That I am not a burden has to compensate for the sad envy when I look at women loved enough to be supported." Ironically, the greater she tries to distance herself from her Chinese heritage, the more she realizes just how affected she has become from listening to her mother's talk-stories about her female ancestors. Although she wants most to identify herself as an individual who lives in America and who has very few ties to China, nevertheless she admits, "Even now China wraps double binds around my feet."
As an adult, Kingston continues to struggle with "dragons," the paradoxes in life. She describes her pain about the emotional distance between herself and her Chinese-born parents in these words: "When I visit the family now, I wrap my American successes around me like a private shawl; I am worthy of eating the food. From afar I can believe my family loves me fundamentally. They only say, 'When fishing for treasures in the flood, be careful not to pull in girls,' because that is what one says about daughters." However, there is still a bitter irony in what she says about her parents and her relationship with them.
In the chapter's last paragraph, Kingston finds consolation that she and Fa Mu Lan serve a common purpose. Both women are concerned about the welfare of their people, and both testify to the strength and determination of women who create their own destinies rather than let others decide their futures for them. Fittingly, the Chinese god of war and the Chinese god of literature are one and the same: Kuan Kung. "What we have in common are the words at our backs," Kingston writes, speaking of herself and Fa Mu Lan. "The idioms for revenge are 'report a crime' and 'report to five families.' The reporting is the vengeance — not the beheading, not the gutting, but the words. And I have so many words — 'chink' words and 'gook' words too — that they do not fit on my skin." Using her gift for talk-story, Kingston fights the many paradoxes in her life with words rather than with a sword.
