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 rather than 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.
