So what’s next? Cross-cultural communication.

Yes, you heard me right. It’s something I’ve been passionate about for a long time.

When I first arrived in Aotearoa, I noticed something subtle yet persistent. What I considered respectful or polite back home was sometimes misinterpreted here, even seen as inappropriate. I remember holding a door open for a female, and she turned to me and said, “Don’t patronise me just because I’m a woman.” I was stunned. Growing up with three older sisters, I’d been taught by my father to show care and respect, to help carry things, and to open doors. But then, I realised how easily a kind gesture could be misread across cultural lines.

At university, I struggled with some of the psychology concepts I was learning — they didn’t resonate with my worldview. That changed when I discovered social psychology. Suddenly, I had the language to describe the things I’d always felt. I began to understand how beliefs, behaviours, and even definitions of what’s “normal” are shaped by culture and society.

Later, in my work in the mental health sector, these differences became even more apparent. Western individualistic mental health models were often applied to people from collectivist cultures, and I saw the disconnect. Ideas around illness, recovery, and help-seeking didn’t always fit. In many Asian cultures, decisions about health aren’t made by the individual alone — they often involve the whole family or community. Mental distress is often tied to stigma, social expectations, and collective identity.

That led me to explore Chinese worldviews, including Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism. I began sharing these insights with colleagues and other services, not to position them as absolute truths but to help bridge understanding.

My personal life also became a space of learning. My husband, who is Pākehā and from an individualistic background, and I often had to navigate very different communication methods. His directness sometimes clashed with my more indirect style. But our shared life in Aotearoa helped me reflect more deeply on these patterns — not just in our relationship but across society.

Being bilingual in Mandarin and Cantonese gave me another window into the stories of Asian people living in New Zealand. Many are navigating two worlds, often without the language to explain what they’re going through. I’ve carried those stories with me.

So, Authenticity Studio will now include a new offering: reflections, short videos, and practical tools for cross-cultural communication. It won’t be perfect, and it won’t be universal. But it will be real—grounded in lived experience and guided by compassion, clarity, and curiosity.

This is just the beginning. Let’s explore this together.