Split

I never know how to explain where I’m from. I say I’m Chinese-Filipino if I want to give a simple answer that people will agree with. I say from New York if I want to immediately end the conversation. The accurate answer, which I never give is I:

Spent most of my childhood in Manila traffic jams.

Grew up in Vancouver for 4 years, where I learned tap water could be scalding hot.

Studied in Guangzhou for 5 months.  

Interned in Madrid for 4.

Drank too much sangria in Barcelona for 7.

Studied econ in Philly for 4 years.  

Built a company in Toronto for 11 months.

Felt really cold in Boston for 5.

Tried not to step on needles in SF for a year and a half.

Then showed up in NYC.

 

Most people don’t have a buffet of values from different places, they have a set menu.

 

Upsides of the buffet: You can tailor it to your needs.

Down sides of the buffet: You’re always tortured by optionality, and on different days you want to eat something different.

 

The buffet makes it easy to turn into a chameleon. And as a chameleon, it becomes too easy to pull out a value that fits what the people around you have instead of what feels right to you. I had a lot of unlearning to do. I’ve had to learn to discern what action felt most right to me instead of what came naturally, and follow that instead. In the process of being a chameleon, though, I have developed a sense of genuinely mixed values, like the average of all the different shades I’ve taken on.

 

Among my friends, I’m probably one of the moreWesternized Asian internationals. Moving to the US put me in the relentless pursuit of individualism. We’re told we only have ourselves, and learn to be at peace through that. I never would have gotten to the same realizations in Asia, where everyone is a part of a larger unit: family, corporation, friend group, or gossip ring.

 

I’ve grown to love the freedoms and individuality my life in the US has, but still value the respect for community and showing up for people that was so prevalent at home.

 

I’ve loved learning that it’s okay to start your own business and shut it down afterwards. That your parents want to help you, but sometimes you need to tell them they can’t. That you’re telling them about your life because you want to keep them in it, but you don’t need to hear their advice because they’re so removed from your context.

 

I’ve come to love having my own opinions of the world. Knowing that there are immutable truths about the way I need to operate that supersede the context I’m in. I love traveling solo, having a glass of wine and steak at a restaurant alone, and doing things for myself that folks back home would think a maladapted loner would do.

 

Once in a while though, I get hit with a wave of nostalgia. It’s most present when I spend time with other Chinese-Southeast-Asians-from-ambiguous-cultural-backgrounds. There’s still something about the attentiveness of Asian culture—a friend randomly bringing you a gift, or another offering to drive you home after the Russian bathhouse even though it’s out of the way—that I miss about home.

 

Over the last few years, I’ve thought about the visceral reactions I grew up with that are a function of the culture I grew up in. A few cases in point:

●    Reciprocity. Back home, if someone gave you a Christmas gift, good Asian form would be to figure out how much it costs so you could give something of the same value the next year. Your ancestors would rollin their graves with shame if you gave something much cheaper than a friend gave you. The same reciprocity that helped me show up better for my friends though, also made me come to expect things from people. I learned that coming into relationships without an agenda made for much more serendipitous and deep life experiences.

●    Conflict-avoidance. A lot of folks back home operated with anxious-avoidant relationship styles. Instead of talking about issues, they’d gossip behind each other's backs. It helped save face, but led to resentment building up and many two-faced relationships. Over many loving and several painful relationships, I learned to set boundaries and say: “Hey, I’m bringing this up because I care about our relationship. When xyz happen edit made me feel this way and it’s not something I want to have in our relationship.”

●    Caring about prestige vs growth. Growing up, I was taught that big brand names were the meaning of life. That working atMcKinsey meant I’d be blessed with much money and happiness forever. I left that job 10 months in after realizing I couldn’t have the level of agency I wanted in the role (see “On choosing what to do” for my mental model).

○    What I’ve instead optimized for:putting myself in situations where I have the most amount of stimulus, and couple that with coaching that allows me to process that stimulus.

○    What that’s looked like in practice: joining a healthcare startup, investing out of a deep tech VC fund, and starting multiple companies. Then hiring a writing coach, philosophy tutor, speaking coach, somatic coach, and executive coach across the years.

Even as I become more aware of my default reactions, parts of me will always be split between both cultures. I’ve come to realize both societies involve real longing: struggling alone in the West vs deprioritizing individual desires and potential in the East. And after having lived between these two worlds, I’ll be spending a lifetime working to get the best of both.