Between Worlds: How Growing Up Multicultural Shapes My View of Healing 

Translating the Unspoken 

Growing up between cultures — and by that, I mean finding my own identity while simultaneously toggling between languages, expected values, traditions, and unspoken rules — required learning to translate not just two social norms and languages, but also emotions through different lenses. It was an education in nuance before I even knew the word. 

These early lessons became my foundation for forming and maintaining genuine connections. They taught me to listen for the unspoken, notice how people carry tension in their bodies, or mask grief with humor. But more than anything, they sparked a deep curiosity about human behavior—how we love, hurt, grieve, and build communities—and how culture influences all of that. 

Today, as a provisional psychotherapist, curiosity truly drives everything I do. 

From Storytelling to Healing 

Before I ever sat in a therapist’s chair, I was a storyteller—working as a journalist and creative director, always hunting for meaning through words and images. Looking back, I realize I was already doing a kind of therapy; after all, everyone has a story to tell, but not always someone to hear it, and I love being that person. Every story I said, wrote, heard, and honored was always about supporting what people need and crave: belonging, understanding, fulfillment, and peace. 

And soon, I was the one with the story to tell and in need of a trained ear to help me navigate my new reality. After experiencing life-altering grief, it was a therapist who helped me find my footing again and helped me acknowledge and hold emotions I thought were impossible to survive. It was my first real encounter with stillness—the kind that says, “You don’t have to fix this, you just have to feel it to get through it.” That experience changed me for the better, and I saw a future again, and soon after, I wanted to learn how to offer that kind of space for others—to hold their stories without judgment or hurry. And to do it while breaking through stigma, particularly those rooted in cultural traditions. 

Reclaiming the Mind-Body Connection 

One of the biggest misconceptions about therapy is that it’s just talking. The truth is, our bodies are always talking, too. I often wonder: When did the mind get divorced from the body? 

Mindfulness, meditation, and grounding aren’t “new age” trends. They’re ancient, embodied practices that have been rebranded or dismissed through the lens of colonization. In therapy, I try to help clients remember what their bodies already know—to reconnect with intuition, rest, and rhythm. Healing isn’t linear; it’s cyclical, like breath. 

The Work That Moves Me 

I’m drawn to psychodynamic and relational work because they invite depth. Internal Family Systems helps me explore the inner world with clients—the protector parts, the vulnerable parts, the hopeful ones. Play therapy allows me to connect with children where words can’t reach, and structural family therapy brings the entire system into the room, illustrating how each person’s story links to the next. 

At its core, my work is about helping people come home to themselves—to integrate the parts they’ve been taught to hide and to feel safe enough to be whole. 

Small Joys, Big Feelings 

When I’m not in session, you’ll probably find me in my kitchen surrounded by an embarrassing number of condiments—hot sauce, soy sauce, ketchup (yes, even ketchup, Chicago!). I believe in flavor, in both cooking and life. 

My fridge may be chaotic, but my comfort rituals are simple: Amélie on a rainy afternoon, Thai food when I need balance, and Enrique Iglesias’s Escape for an instant serotonin boost. 

The quote that grounds me most is from Lao Tzu: “Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.” It reminds me to move with integrity, to trust timing—mine, and my clients’. 

Coming Home 

The longer I do this work, the more I believe therapy isn’t about “fixing.” It’s about remembering that we can hold joy and grief at the same time. That stillness counts as progress. That belonging begins within. Between cultures, between identities, between then and now—that’s where I learned to listen. And it’s where I help others learn to heal.