Coming to accept myself

For the vast majority of us, I like to believe that we are all quite comfortable with our identities in the world, at least when it comes to culture and belonging. However, as someone who is ethnically Chinese and raised in the United Kingdom, this has been a challenge I’ve had to navigate. In recent times, though, I feel I’ve finally been able to come to terms with and embrace my unique cultural identity.

One of the first reasons this issue arises, in my experience, is the contrast between household life and public life. In many conventional settings, the differences between these environments are subtle, but for me, growing up ethnically Chinese in the United Kingdom, the divide was striking. As a child, I noticed a stark contrast in social behaviours and attitudes between China and Great Britain.

Within my Chinese household, there was always a strong sense of obligation, rooted in Confucian values. Traditional Chinese families deeply value social hierarchy, so obedience and discipline were emphasised and enforced. I wouldn’t necessarily say this was a negative experience, but it was certainly different from the relaxed and whimsical attitude often reflected in British culture.

Whenever I went out to school, the British environment felt somewhat off-putting though in a good way. In some respects, I felt more relaxed than expected at home. However, no matter how much kindness I received, there was always a lingering feeling of being a foreigner. This mentality shaped my perspective on Chinese culture and what it means to be Chinese. Growing up speaking Mandarin and engaging with Chinese media on a semi-frequent basis made it even more challenging for me to fully integrate into British society.

I’ve made attempts to become more British over the years, but especially after starting university, I’ve realised it’s much healthier to accept myself for who I am. Denying my Chinese identity ignored the social habits and values I inherited from my parents, while pretending British culture hasn’t influenced me overlooked how much my environment has shaped me.

Of course, racism still exists, and sometimes it rears its ugly head. Yet, through my interactions with other Chinese students at university, I’ve come to appreciate not only my parents’ teachings but also my cultural origins. At the same time, I don’t despise being raised in the UK. Even though it came with many challenges, it also allowed me to grow and craft my own narrative.

Equally, I cannot deny that returning to China comes with its own set of challenges. One thing I’ve noticed is that immigrant parents, after being away from their homeland for so long, often carry a “time capsule” version of their country’s culture. Usually, this isn’t a major issue, but in China, with its rapid development and generational shifts, it’s especially pronounced. The values, behaviours, and even slang that were familiar to my parents have evolved, making it difficult for those with very traditional mindsets to fully reconnect upon returning.

For example, I remember speaking with Chinese students at my university who pointed out that my Mandarin sounded “whitewashed” and notably more formal than the average young person in China today. At first, I didn’t fully understand why my Mandarin came across as overly formal or “whitewashed.” However, as I spent more time talking with my parents and compared those conversations to speaking with my cousins or friends from China, I realised the difference. Because I never had the experience of casually interacting in everyday environments in China, and with today’s Chinese youth embracing much more relaxed and informal behaviours, my language and mannerisms felt out of place. The lack of exposure to contemporary slang, humour, and social context contributed to this disconnect, making my interactions seem stiffer and less authentic to native speakers my age.

Being away from the country’s changes meant the culture I experienced was essentially outdated. As someone from Fuzhou in Fujian province, I also noticed that the strong sense of regional identity that once distinguished Fujianese people is now fading and considered out of touch among the younger generation.

This experience has encouraged me to re-evaluate my relationship with Chinese culture. Ultimately, I’ve realised that who I am and what I do with my life is in my own hands. Whether I am Chinese or British has become less important to me; what matters most is that I continue to grow as a human being.

Our Purpose? What exactly is it?

Purpose is something that everyone has likely contemplated, especially when making important life decisions, such as applying to university or choosing a career path. One aspect of humanity that is often underestimated is our extraordinary capacity for thought. Unlike every other species on Earth, which rarely questions its purpose or actions, humans possess the unique ability to reflect and exercise self-determination. This attribute in recent times, however, has really become a detriment to our mental health rather than a compliment.

Certainly, in primal times, humans may have also acted primarily in accordance with their natural drives. However, with the urbanisation of society and advancements in scientific thought, one might expect that we would come closer to understanding our Purpose. People today can achieve things that were never possible before. The fact that you can pursue different job opportunities and start shaping the direction of your own life is a very recent development. For the longest time, our purpose was simply what we were born into or assigned to; there was little choice. But once you’re given the chance to dive deeper into life’s possibilities, you realise it’s an endless world, vast and open, with no single path laid out for you.

Paradoxically, these developments seem to have taken us further away from a clear sense of purpose, as the complexities of modern life introduce more questions and uncertainties than answers. It’s an interesting phenomenon: despite having more freedoms than ever before, we often struggle to define our Purpose. Of course, this varies from person to person. Yet, generally speaking, people, whether employed or studying, tend to drift through life somewhat aimlessly, picking up pursuits that initially offer short-term excitement or satisfaction. The abundance of choice and opportunity, rather than bringing clarity, can sometimes search for purpose more overwhelming and elusive.

But when given more thought, the question of purpose can become quite daunting. As someone who chose to study history and politics at 18, I never imagined I would later create a website and write blogs. Looking back, I realise that when I made that decision a long time ago, if you had asked me then why I did it or what it was for, I could never have provided a truly informative answer, beyond simply saying it felt right at the time.

Sometimes, the idea of having a purpose is what drives us to become better, whether it’s for a friend, for family, or for ourselves. Anything worth fighting for becomes our reason to keep going. I’ve certainly experienced this myself. Yet, as time goes on, I continue to contemplate why I keep fighting and what I’m truly trying to achieve. Especially for people in their youth, it’s common to keep changing directions, trying to figure out which path is right. In the end, this constant search can leave us feeling even more uncertain, as though we’re concealing our true selves.

But then there’s the idea that assigning yourself a purpose might actually make you feel more unhappy. It can be a restricting feeling to live life believing you have to live up to something supposedly big, especially for those who place high expectations on themselves. They say ignorance is bliss, and I suppose that’s the conclusion I’ve come to here. At the end of the day, you’re just human. With billions of us on this earth, it’s okay to accept that your life here may not be the most meaningful, and that’s perfectly fine.

Once you give it some thought, and especially when you realise just how long but also how short life can be, it becomes clear that the pursuit of purpose is endless. Throughout my life, I’ve set myself a number of small goals and ambitions, nothing too cryptic, but nothing too vague either. The idea of having some direction, however modest, is what helps guide me. Having a single, overarching purpose isn’t really viable in the long run. In the end, we just want to give meaning to what we do, and I think that aspect of humanity is truly commendable.

Politics’ role in Identity

I've previously spoken about how, as an immigrant Chinese, I deeply struggled to fit into life in the United Kingdom. What I didn’t mention last time, however, is that the Chinese identity crisis has a complex political dimension, making it even more difficult to navigate and resolve. The rising power of China has always been a double-edged sword for how Chinese people are generally treated. Stereotypes and media coverage often influence how others perceive you, sometimes overshadowing your individuality and personal experiences.

China’s position as the United States' main rival, both economically and politically, has led the US to portray China in the worst possible light. While I can’t fully justify these actions, I also understand why such a stance might seem reasonable from their perspective. However, the impact this has on how people interact with Chinese individuals is significant. For many overseas diaspora groups, including myself, being Chinese can feel like an obstacle. It becomes harder to appreciate what it means to be Chinese, and sometimes that aspect of our identity is resented simply because it seems to hold us back from things others take for granted, such as a sense of belonging.

Often, there’s constant pressure to prove yourself among Westerners, while our upbringing encourages us to remain composed and not be too outspoken. This dynamic has unfortunately made insecurities and feelings of depression all too common for those of us living overseas.

Until iShowSpeed gained popularity in China, perceptions of China and Chinese people were largely negative, especially during the COVID pandemic. Personally, I was never badly affected during this time, but conversations with my friends opened a Pandora’s box of challenges and made me realise just how impossible it feels to change public perceptions. I remember hearing stories from friends whose Chinese restaurants were vandalised, and about the abusive behaviour directed at Chinese people simply for being who they are.

With Speed’s recent rise in popularity, it’s striking how quickly things seemed to shift. And yet, it’s hard to truly believe that everything can just change overnight; many of us in the Chinese overseas diaspora are still struggling to adjust to this new reality. It’s a tragedy that, for us, it has become normal to accept racism and, at times, even to hate ourselves. Making jokes about ourselves isn’t necessarily a bad thing; in fact, it can come across as a sign of humility or comfort with who we are. But for many of us, it actually masks a deeper sense of internalised racism. When that feeling takes hold, it becomes all too easy to reject yourself, no matter what.

When you combine the challenge of growing up in a foreign country with the constant barrage of negative stories about China, even the simple act of appreciating yourself becomes incredibly difficult. Ultimately, though, the responsibility for accepting and valuing yourself rests with you alone. Before university, I really struggled to love Chinese culture, even though I was constantly surrounded by critical media narratives. Whether those reports were true or not, for people like me, they made it much harder to take pride in being Chinese, certainly not in the same way someone raised in the mainland might experience.

An unfortunate reality is that when people harbour resentment, they will always find a scapegoat. The constant bombardment of anti-CCP news outlets made it even harder for me to appreciate anything about being Chinese. For a significant part of my life, I hated everything to do with my Chinese identity and made an active effort to distance myself from it. It’s human nature; we all want to be appreciated and respected, and if that means changing who we are, it sometimes feels worth the price.

Speaking from my own experience, this was the most miserable period of my life. I remember one night, before falling asleep, I even wished I were Japanese or Korean, just so I wouldn’t be vulnerable to political attacks. When you’re encouraged to despise everything you were taught to love, it’s impossible not to feel miserable. But I don’t want to play the victim here, because the sensible choice eventually became clear: you must keep searching for people who will accept you, regardless of politics. If you find someone who sees you for who you truly are, despite what the world says, you’ve found a diamond in the dirt.

Impact of University

As I enter my final year of university, I find myself reflecting on the journey of the past three years. Before starting, I assumed university would simply be an extension of my previous education, just three more years of studying and doing what I had always done. While that might be true for some, my experience has been quite different.

Particularly at universities with diverse international communities, the environment extends far beyond academics. It opens opportunities not only for career growth but also for broadening personal perspectives. Being surrounded by people from various backgrounds has allowed me to see the world through different lenses, challenge my own assumptions, and grow in ways I never expected.

Looking back, I realise that university life is about much more than lectures and exams. It’s about the connections you make, the new ideas you encounter, and the person you become along the way.

Before coming to university, I was quite closed off in my perspective, not just about the world, but also about how I should function as a person. Growing up solely in the UK and visiting China only once a year meant my worldview was largely confined to these two cultural experiences. Naturally, the UK mindset dominated how I approached life and understood myself.

Reflecting chronologically, my first year at university began with high expectations. I was eager to make new friends and, more importantly, to better understand other people’s perspectives. Even when I didn’t fully agree with someone, simply listening and learning from them was enough to broaden my understanding of why people live the way they do.

What stood out most was being surrounded by people who, in some ways, were inherently better than I was, whether academically, socially, or in terms of life experience. Rather than being discouraging, this exposure proved invaluable. It pushed me to grow and challenge myself, and helped me realise the importance of learning from those around me.

I want to respect everyone’s privacy, so I’ll keep names anonymous, but my flatmates in my first year had the biggest impact on my development. One stood out for his exceptional organisation, positive attitude, and for encouraging me to articulate my arguments and viewpoints more clearly. My other flatmates, from countries like Malaysia and Nigeria, introduced me to entirely new cultural perspectives. Experiencing how they saw the world, so different from my own, opened my eyes to the value of cultural exchange as a powerful tool for socialising. I realised that my own background, split between China and the UK, could offer others new insights and help deepen their understanding too.

This pattern continued into my second year. Meeting more people, even those with backgrounds similar to mine, like Hongkongers and Taiwanese, helped me branch out further. Hearing how they perceived China and their own political environments not only deepened my self-understanding but also gave me a greater appreciation for where they were coming from.

Calligraphy was another unexpected and meaningful discovery during my time at university. I had never had the opportunity to try Chinese calligraphy before, but given my artistic inclinations, I decided to give it a go through the Mandarin Society. The experience was truly breathtaking, holding the brush, focusing on every careful stroke, and immersing myself in the process.

This practice not only sparked a new passion for the Chinese language but also helped me move past the tediousness I once associated with Chinese school. Learning the stories and reasons behind each character gave me a deeper appreciation for my culture and language. To this day, I continue to seek out ways to connect more deeply with my heritage, and I’m grateful that the university gave me that chance.

The university also exposed me to a lot of new social events that I had never really considered before. For example, when I first joined, I wasn't particularly good at chess (and to be honest, I still don't think I am). However, joining the Chess Society and engaging with other students there helped me discover a new passion. I remember playing against the President of the Chess Society in 2025, during our first match, I was completely beaten. But after playing regularly and learning strategies through experience, our second match felt different. Although I still didn’t win, it was cathartic to realise how much closer I had come to matching his skill. That sense of progression was something I had been seeking in my life, and I have the University of Warwick to thank for that.

The growth mindset that comes with being at university truly helped me develop as an individual. It reminded me that progress and growth are endless, and there is always something new to learn. This is a philosophy I try to keep to this day.