'As an Asian woman, I've waited a lifetime for the kind of representation I saw in 2025.'

For Asians everywhere, 2025 didn't just feel like any calendar year — it felt like ours. 

It was a year that promised a future we've been waiting for: one where our faces, our stories, and our cultural nuances were finally taking centre stage. 

From the music charts to the silver screen, 2025 was undeniably a watershed moment for Asian excellence in the global entertainment landscape. And I've been waiting my whole life for this moment. 

Let's start with Asian animation because, this year, it wasn't just popular; it was critically acclaimed. 

Watch: The Spill talking about Kpop Demon Hunters. Article continues after video.

Regardless of what genre of film you're into, there's absolutely no way you could have avoided the cultural phenomenon that was Kpop Demon Hunters. Netflix hit the jackpot with this one — banger songs, stunning animation style, and a story that was grounded in cultural specificity and nuance.

As one of the biggest movies of the year, Kpop Demon Hunters achieved Netflix's highest viewership record, pulling in a massive 266 million views, dethroning Squid Game. It was the most-watched thing on the platform, period. 

Plus, it was the number one film in 35 countries. Let's not forget the soundtrack — it completely took over the music charts, scoring multiple huge hits on both the Billboard Hot 100 and 200.

We're going up, up, up, indeed. 

Then there was Ne Zha 2 — the highest grossing animated movie of all time. Of all time! Above Inside Out 2 and The Lion King. Let that sink in for a moment. This Chinese sequel proved, yet again, that Asian-led and culturally specific stories are massive, bankable hits. They draw crowds, cross borders, and shatter the myth that our narratives are niche. 

Image: Beijing Enlight Pictures

Then there's music. For a long time there existed — and still exists to a huge extent — a divide between mainstream Western musicians and foreign artists. From Latin music to Kpop, there is an othering that occurs when it comes to non-English music. From entirely separate categories at award shows to a labelling of foreign genres as "exotic", the music industry is not and has never been a level playing field. 

So seeing songs like ROSÉ and Bruno Mars' 'APT' and 'Golden' from Kpop Demon Hunters score major nominations at the Grammys was monumental. 

Image: YouTube/ROSÉ

Moving onto live-action film, this year's highly-anticipated sequel, Freakier Friday, featured an Asian man as its romantic lead. That's right — I'm talking about Manny Jacinto, a bonafide Hollywood hunk. In this role, Jacinto is charming and dreamy. He isn't stereotyped or defined by his race. He just is. And it's about time we let Asian men just be. 

Jacinto's presence on screen solidified that Asian men are captivating, utterly deserving of carrying blockbuster films, and, well… very hot. 

Image: Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures

But perhaps one of the most heartwarming moments for me this year was watching Sunny Long win Australia's first-ever The Golden Bachelor. Seeing an Asian woman given the space to be eccentric, vulnerable, desirable, and the focus of a national love story, has pushed the envelope more than you can imagine. 

These moments aren't flukes. They've given young Asian girls and boys a chance to point at a screen and see what's possible. 

But just as we are high-fiving over the nominations and box office records, there remains a stark reminder that the system is still fundamentally broken. 

Image: Channel Nine

Recently, actor Simu Liu, took to his Instagram Threads and opened up about the state of Asian representation and diversity in Hollywood. 

"Put some asians in literally anything right now. the amount of backslide in our representation onscreen is f***ing appalling," Liu shared. "Studios think we're risky."

Risky. Think about that. Even after the countless hits over the years — like Minari, Past Lives, Beef, Shogun, Everything Everywhere All At Once, Crazy Rich Asians — the people with the power to greenlight films still see our faces as a gamble, a 'risk' to their bottom line. 

"Every single one a financial success," he added. "No Asian actor has ever lost a studio even close to 100 million dollars but a white dude will lose 200 million TWICE and roll right into the next tentpole lead. We're fighting a deeply prejudiced system. and most days it SUCKS."

And he's not wrong. Here's the uncomfortable truth: the deck is still stacked against us.

This is the kernel of truth that makes 2025 feel so personal. It's not a question of talent; the talent is undeniable. It's not a question of audience demand; the box office numbers speak for themselves. It is, purely and simply, a question of opportunity and prejudice.

Image: Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures

The system is designed to allow certain actors — mostly white men — to fail spectacularly and repeatedly with virtually no career consequence. Meanwhile, Asian actors are held to an impossibly high standard, where one financial success isn't enough to guarantee the next role; it's often seen as a fluke. 

As Asian women, this systemic prejudice is a double-edged sword. We celebrate our wins with fierce pride, but we know every actress, writer, and director has to fight twice as hard to even get in the room, let alone be given a budget that reflects their worth.

Both things can be true. This was a spectacular year of progress, but the ongoing inequities in the industry are something we can't ignore. The fight is not over. 

2025 is proof that our stories are worthy. They've just been waiting to be told.

Feature Image: Nine / Netflix / Getty / YouTube/ROSÉ.