How to Find Your Identity as an Immigrant
Image via Vitaliy Deynega
Navigating two worlds alone is confusing, lonely, and difficult.
Coming on a plane to Canada at three years old, I’ve had my fair share of mimicking others for social survival. Survival in a new world where the movies, toys, and playground kids all consider me “different” because I don’t the same. As if I somehow am less human.
Now, in my 20’s, I realize my society has been lying to me. It’s A-OK to not fit neatly into any box, and I shouldn’t bend myself backwards to please invisible strangers.
I’m done trying to blend in. Yes, I’m Canadian, but I’m not just Canadian. Yes, I’m Chinese, but I’m not just Chinese. I’m both. I think that makes me pretty cool, nice to meet you too :)
What sucks about being an immigrant
The truth is, sometimes life is all sunshine and rainbows, but sometimes it’s dog shit, especially as an immigrant. When you’re the bridge between two worlds, natural disasters happen, and you’re in the eye of the storm baby.
The massive cultural gulf between me and my parents
While Canada is a great country, immigrant life is still tough, starting over is tough, not having money in the bank with a family to feed is tough. It’s also equally tough finding your place in a social fabric you’ve just been sewn into.
Because while your parents wish you held onto the cultural values that they grew up in, you can’t because you’re growing up here.
The truth is: my upbringing was very different than my parents, and this is a big deal, they couldn’t teach me how to navigate Canadian culture, how to survive, what to do, what not to do—they were learning as they went too.
Being an immigrant child, you can’t turn to your parents as examples of identity, because they’re also in the process of rewriting theirs.
My parents didn’t show me how to survive... I showed myself, I had no other choice.
A complete lack of media representation
So where does a clueless first-gen immigrant child in Canada go to find clues about her identity? Well, I look at my surroundings: I watch Hannah Montana, listen to Taylor Swift, play with Barbies, and look at fashion ads of pretty white women.
Having no role models, the message was painfully clear: there’s absolutely no room for you to be Chinese.
I felt this discrimination the most during middle school.
I remember telling myself, “I don’t want to stand out anymore, I don’t want to be treated differently, and I don’t want to be Chinese. I want white skin, a cottage, and a non-toxic relationship with my parents.“
My parents way of showing love added more gas to the flames. I wanted love notes in my lunch box, words of affirmation, and emotionally supportive conversations. All they could give me was the love their parents gave them, which in Chinese culture, is criticism and self-sacrifice—not exactly emotionally comforting.
Since that fateful day, middle school Liya made the decision to bury her Chinese identity because she hated herself.
How to fix your ethnicity
Does mom pack me a dumpling lunch? Or Lunchables?
Lunchables.
Do I befriend the other Chinese students at lunch?
Ew no! *pause* Look! There are the popular white kids.
This guy just called me a banana, do I smack him or laugh it off?
Laugh it off, he’s funny! Besides, I’m basically white.
… Sad right? But of course, I couldn’t fool myself forever. Suppressing who I am is self-sabotaging. Because the truth is: no matter how white I act, I can’t change that I’m Chinese.
How can I expect anybody else to love my culture if I don’t?
How can I expect anyone to love me if I don’t even love myself?
I’m going to skip the years of trauma and confusion and insecurity-ridden nights I spent figuring this out and skip straight to my ah-ha moment.
Celebrate yourself, you beautiful weirdo.
Think of how self-sabotaging it was for me to be Chinese, not accepting that I’m Chinese BUT at the same time expect other people to embrace and respect Chinese culture? If I want to influence the world positively, I first needed to start with myself. I had to love and accept me first.
The Golden Rule which I now abide by: Me first, World later.
Which brings me to my first piece of advice:
#1 Find and nurture the right relationships
Let me tell you what a great blessing it is to be heard. Like really heard. Having a few people in your life where you can truly express yourself and feel safe without judgment —is a real blessing. Find these friends and never let them go.
What does having a truly meaningful connection with someone look like? Psychotherapist Esther Perel said it best:
It means you feel that you matter, and they matter. And if you matter, it means that someone cares for you.
Someone remembers you. You exist in the memory of others.
It means that you can never hit the ground because you are lifted by these multiple connections who hold you up, literally, physically.
They hold you up, as well, psychologically.
Crying and letting go of your problems is 100x better when you have strong friends to help you through it. To figure out your identity being an immigrant, you’re going to have to dive deep into the scary waters that is your trauma; you need an arsenal of people to swim by your side.
Also, don’t shy away from therapy or seeking a professional. I have an amazing therapist who shows me new ways and tools to help me understand myself/reprogram my brain.
What to look out for:
It’s about quality and not quantity. The more is not merrier, focus on the quality of your connections, not the numbers.
Spend less time & energy with the people who don’t put in the effort to be in your life. I’m not saying don’t be friends with them, just be careful who you choose to unload your emotions onto, they might not be in good shape to receive it. Your time and energy is more valuable than money, just like your childhood, you can’t get that shit back.
#2 Travel more
Immigrants are world travelers, it’s in your nature to be one.
Seriously consider placing yourself out of your comfort zone, and submerge yourself in another culture.
If I never traveled, I would’ve never seen positive representation of Chinese people completely kicking ass on the world stage. I would’ve forever lived in the narrative that Chinese people are only secondary to white people.
But in China, people are so proud of their heritage, of their 4000-year-old civilization, it rubbed off on me when I came back to Canada. I caught myself thinking on numerous occasions:
I’M LIYA, I’M CHINESE, AND WE INVENTED BUBBLE TEA, GUNPOWDER, AND I HAVE THE WISDOM OF MY ANCESTORS RUNNING THROUGH MY VEINS! BOOM BOOM BITCHES!
Travelling also taught me a whole new way of looking at my identity:
How do I want to be remember by these people?
If me and this Polish student are so different, then how come we connect so deeply about wanting to find love? Wanting good grades? Wanting to see the world?
If me and this Moroccan lady are really so different, how come we laugh at the same jokes? How come we share the same deep convictions of living a meaningful, independent life?
Travelling expanded my worldview, it made me look at myself in a new light.
#3 Love yourself so hard.
I can’t change the fact that I’m Chinese, but I can change how I feel about it. I can accept what has happened to me during my childhood, because none of it was ever really my choice. It was just plopped on me. I didn’t process the immigration papers, I didn’t buy the plane ticket.
Write positive sticky notes and stick them on your door, your bathroom mirror, ANYWHERE you exchange daily eye contact with
Write positive self affirmations in your notebook. Journal your feelings. Let. It. Out. Write everything you wish your parents said to you, say it to yourself
EVERYTIME you say something negative about yourself, immediately say something good, no exceptions.
Loving myself also meant I stopped giving other people the power to determine my worth before getting to know me.
Before, 100% of the way I felt about myself, was determined by the opinion of others. The mass media, celebrities, and public figures I don’t connect with, I gave them the power to determine my worth. I assumed everyone knew better than me.
Finding tools and patterns of thinking to love yourself is highly personal, and it takes years to practice and perfect. So be patient. I can write a whole other blog on how to love yourself and listen to yourself. But I’ll leave you with this:
All the words used to describe and praise Beyonce, were all introduced to us by Beyonce first. We call her “that bitch” because she first said it in her song. We call her queen because she called herself queen first.
I love you, Liya.
My story is far from over, but accepting and embracing my Chinese identity has enabled me to spend my energy elsewhere. I’m done self-sabotaging, I’m done running away from myself, and I’ve realized it's 100% because of my cultural ambiguity that I’m the perfect bridge between two worlds. I’ve weathered the shit-storm and I’ve built a bridge. Now, others and myself can travel safely between two worlds.
I’ve never been more excited for the future. Crazy Rich Asians just did 220 Million USD in the box office, Instagram has made some of the most powerful figures in fashion, Asian, and above that, our society has put a bigger premium on showing vulnerability and being authentic.
If I could go back in time, I would take 3-year-old Liya in my arms and tell her she’s going to be alright. I’d tell her that nobody is perfect, and that being different is good, different is welcome, different stands out, and she should NEVER stop being different.
She doesn’t need to change a thing, in fact, it’s other people that could use some change.
Love,
Liya