When caring too much about what others think becomes a form of self-abandonment.
I used to think that if people didn’t like me, I was doing something wrong. I needed to do everything in my power to get them to like me…to right my wrongs and prove to them I am worthy.
That if someone judged my choices, it meant I needed to change. That being seen as good, agreeable, respectable — by everyone — was the most important thing.
Be compliant, conform, and assimilate. Don’t stir the pot unless you want to get burned.
It’s a belief that’s hardwired into a lot of us. Especially if you grew up in an Asian culture, where your actions aren’t just about you, but reflect your entire family.
In collectivistic cultures, one person’s success brings honour to the whole family.
But failure?
Shame. The kind that seeps into conversations, reputations, and generations.
When my parents immigrated, their survival strategy was clear: Fit in. Keep your head down. Don’t draw attention. Work hard. Be grateful.
They raised me and my sisters with that same mindset: follow the rules, don’t ruffle feathers, and above all, don’t bring dishonour to the family name.
They conformed because they had to. They swallowed their opinions to keep the peace.
And their sacrifices? Real. Valid. They built a comfortable life, raised successful daughters, and earned every bit of pride they carry today.
But now that I have a voice, a platform, and a calling to tell the truth, I feel the weight of their expectations every time I write something vulnerable.
Even finishing this email, there’s a voice inside whispering, “Stop. Don’t criticize where you come from. You’re bringing shame to your family.”
And the louder, more insistent one:
“Don’t bite the hands that fed you.”
But the truth is, I’m not trying to dishonour anyone. I’m trying to honour myself — and every person who’s felt the tension of walking between two worlds.
People like me.
People like you.
People who feel the pull to be honest, messy, and real, and the pressure to stay quiet, polished, and pleasing.
That’s why I created 60 Feelings To Feel: A Journal to Identify Your Emotions — because learning to speak your truth means first understanding how you actually feel.
This journal helps you:
Name the emotions you weren’t allowed to name growing up
Unpack what’s really going on under your reactions
Explore how your body stores those unspoken tensions
Create space to feel without judgment — just awareness
If you grew up feeling like you needed to earn approval or permission to be yourself, this journal is for you.
Grab your copy here.
Because you don’t have to choose between honouring your family and honouring yourself.
You’re allowed to be both grateful and honest.
To carry the legacy and create your own truth.
To press publish, create and express yourself, and keep going.
You’re allowed to feel it all. You’re allowed to live life on your terms.
Until next time,
Katharine
