“Who Am I? Where Do I Fit In?” How Cultural Expectations and Trauma Shape Immigrant Identity

“I feel like I am living for the past 15 years of my professional life in the whipped cream. The whipped cream is not what you expect, but when it comes, it is all extra. I've been living in the extra.”
— Ocean Vuong, Vietnamese American poet 

Ocean Vuong’s words speak to the layered reality many immigrants experience— particularly those whose families arrived in the United States seeking safety, opportunity, or simply survival. For many immigrants, especially those from developing nations or lower socioeconomic backgrounds, the definition of a “good life” is humble: having enough food, a roof over your head, and the ability to live another day. Yet in modern Western society, such a life is often viewed as insufficient, unambitious—even a failure.

Navigating two cultures is never easy. Immigrants and their children often face implicit or overt shame simply for being “different.” The culture they carry with them—embedded in language, customs, and even in something as simple as food—can be met with judgment. Many remember moments from childhood when they felt embarrassed bringing home-cooked meals to school, only to be ridiculed for unfamiliar smells or flavors.

The Grief of Identity: When Belonging Feels Elusive

There is a unique kind of grief that arises when you realize how your appearance, accent, culture, or even fashion choices influence how others perceive and treat you. It’s not just about “fitting in”; it’s about reconciling the multiple layers of who you are.

Second-generation immigrants often voice a deep identity conflict: For instance, “I’m not Asian enough in my country of origin because I grew up in the U.S., but I’m not American enough here either.”

These feelings of not being “enough” stem from many sources: historical trauma, racialization, and generational misunderstandings. Adolescents, especially, may feel torn between wanting to fit in with peers and preserving their cultural identity. Over time, as they conform and find belonging among their peers, the shame may fade—but another emotion creeps in: loss.

There is a quiet mourning for the parts of self that are suppressed in the process of assimilation. Despite outward confidence and friendships, many still carry a sense of disconnection. They feel as though they’re performing a version of themselves. Some come to realize they may never fully fit in—due to an invisible, deeply rooted barrier shaped by history and power.

Healing does not require erasing the barrier entirely—but it does ask us to name it, to say: “I see it, and I want to understand.” No one should have to carry the burden of bridging the cultural gap alone.

The Legacy of Trauma: How Past Pain Shapes Family Life

Immigrant families often carry histories shaped by poverty, war, displacement, political persecution, or natural disasters. These experiences leave a deep imprint—not just on those who directly endured them, but on future generations. Trauma shows up in parenting, family roles, and communication patterns.

This can create emotional distance between generations. Children, especially those raised in the host culture, may find themselves more emotionally aware or fluent than their parents, yet feel unseen or misunderstood at home.

First-generation immigrant struggles may include:

• Maintaining relationships with family in their home country, despite vastly different lived experiences.

• Coping with guilt or grief from witnessing continued suffering back home.

• Building a new support system in a host culture with different values around closeness and autonomy.
  

Children of immigrants often bear additional burdens:

• Serving as language brokers and cultural translators.

• Feeling responsible for their family’s upward mobility.

• Navigating unspoken expectations to succeed while suppressing their own needs or emotional pain.

These layered roles can leave both generations feeling isolated, living under the same roof but in vastly different emotional worlds.

Healing Across Generations: Reclaiming Voice and Identity

Healing from cultural and generational trauma is a non-linear and deeply personal journey. It requires reckoning with what was lost and rediscovering what can be reclaimed. Therapeutic support can be a vital companion along the way. A culturally-responsive therapist can help you explore and reconcile the different parts of your identity as an immigrant or child of immigrants. Here are some therapy practices that can support this healing process for immigrants and children of immigrants: 

1. Foster understanding. Each family and cultural history is unique. Gaining clarity about the historical and generational context of your experiences can help you make sense of what happened—and recognize that it wasn’t your fault.

2. Recognize and care for your inner parts. Identify the parts of yourself that carry emotional wounds. Gently unblend from those "exiled" parts holding trauma, and approach them with curiosity, compassion, and care.

3. Connect with others. You are not alone in this process. Seek out relationships or communities where you feel safe and supported in your emotional vulnerability.

4. Cultivate body awareness. Trauma lives in the nervous system. Attending to your somatic experiences can help you develop both physical and emotional safety.

5. Explore meaning. Reflect on how you make sense of what happened to you and your family. Reclaim your narrative in a way that feels empowering and aligned with your truth.

6. Affirm agency. Acknowledge the impact of systemic oppression while empowering yourself to reclaim your voice, challenge internalized shame, and co-create spaces of collective care.

Culturally-Responsive Therapy for Immigrant Experiences

Who am I? Where do I belong? These questions are not signs of confusion or weakness—they are the beginning of healing. They emerge when we dare to hold the contradictions of our identity and honor the fullness of our experience.

To immigrants and children of immigrants navigating these questions: you are not alone. Your grief is valid. Your voice matters. And your story is worth telling— not just for yourself, but for the generations to come.

At ECC Chicago, all of our therapists are committed to providing culturally-responsive care to help you explore how your cultural identity is impacting your mental health and relationships. We offer multilingual therapy in Spanish, Mandarin, and Korean, both in person and online. If you’re looking for culturally competent therapy near you, we’re here to help. 

ABOUT ECC: 

Empowered Connections Counseling is a practice of licensed therapists providing quality, multidisciplinary counseling for adults, children & teens, relationships, and families in Chicago and across Illinois. Whether by in-person session or via telehealth, we work with clients to find the therapist and treatment methods that best suit their needs. Connect meaningfully with your life by booking an appointment today.

Becoming a Therapist- My Personal and Professional Journey

I’ve often been asked by others, how did I become a therapist? What motivated or attracted me to embark on this long and intensely challenging professional journey? Throughout my lifetime, both personal and professional experiences contributed to my choice of practicing psychotherapy and specializing in complex trauma.  

I was born in Poland during the 70s, the era of the communists' regime. As a child, it came naturally to me to be a caring, empathetic and compassionate person. I often tuned into my feelings and expressed myself well. I would spend time alone to attune to these passing feelings and the state of my body trying to figure out why I felt this way, often expressing them through art and writing poems. This growing self-reflection in me lead to my curiosity towards what other people think and feel as well as why they behave in certain ways. I often wondered about why some people were so loving and caring while others so authoritative, abusive, or self-absorbed?

In school, I became aware of my abilities to listen and have empathy towards others' suffering. Friends and others often came to me to unburden their wounds or to share their deepest secrets - we would sit there and puzzle on the best way to resolve or to cope with their struggles. I was the person who stood up for others, was concerned for my peers' well-being, even being there for bullies to help them see the hurt they were causing to others. Science, art, writing, reading novels, poems, and war stories were my daily inspiration. I remember being able to visualize so vividly characters from books, draw nature, and write poems about self and others. Listening to my grandma's heroic war stories was the most inspiring experience, and I learned that even in the most atrocious times there was always room for helping others. She was the first source of inspiration for the trauma work I do today.

At the age of 11, I experienced and witnessed relational/parental separation, which had become a norm in my country, by overwhelming migration and adjustment struggles of losing a parent or a caregiver. My mother also immigrated to the USA to search for a better life for us (my two brothers and me). As a middle child and the only female in the family, it came to me naturally to acquire the role of a mother to my both brothers, especially to youngest one. I grew close with my brothers and often soothed their distress and grief. I found a ''safe haven'' in my grandmother’s and auntie's arms.  I grew in strength, resiliency, and understanding of the importance of being there for my brothers. These relationships helped me to value the quality of family connection and strong bond on children's well-being.

As a 13 year old I experienced revolution, known as the ''Fall of Communism''. The post-communism times brought on economic turmoil, declining of the well-being of the country and the quality of life of many families, dramatically spreading poverty. In the face of collective suffering, political imprisonment, censorship, Martial law, cruelty, absurdity, and misery, relational closeness and support was the only ''safe haven'' for many - comforting others become an essential part of all human life.

At age 16 I was able to join my mother in the USA, where I began a time of a huge transition and adjustment as an immigrant - aspiring to fit into a new culture and communities was challenging, but also rewarding. Meeting people with similar experiences brought up for me this lingering drive of wanting to do more and to be able to help others in a similar situation. Relating to one another as immigrants was helping us to move forward, and we would meet on a regular basis to unburden our grievances and challenges. My new friends often found me genuinely supportive and encouraging, always there for them and listening to their stories and secrets.

Living as an undocumented immigrant for over 12 years brought a lot of fear in my life. I tried to lead a normal life; I did my GED in preparation to go to college to study psychology, I got married, had a child (daughter) and got divorced. I re-married and had a second daughter. As both my children were U.S. citizens, I feared that one day my husband or I might be removed from them. I did not know my country anymore, and the idea of going back was scary.  My family and I left the USA in 2005 to await legalization of our status. For the next 13 years, we embarked on a journey of trying to give our children a similar life as what they had in the USA, so we relocated to different countries such as the Czech Republic, the United Kingdom, Canada, and eventually back to America. It was a challenging period of readjustments, personal transformation, and an incredible opportunity to connect with people from various cultural and ethnic backgrounds.  The move to the United Kingdom presented an excellent opportunity for me; I finally enrolled in a higher education program in psychology and community studies as a prerequisite for the BSc in Counseling and Psychology, and then onto an MSc Counseling and Psychotherapy.

My curiosity was growing, but it wasn't until my practicum where my passion for psychotherapy and specializing in complex trauma come to light. During my 17 months of volunteering at the National Health Services in the UK as a support worker, I primarily worked with individuals diagnosed with borderline and anti-social personality disorders, who presented as complex and at times exhibited challenging and risky behaviors. Providing emotional, practical and crisis support for these individuals came naturally to me. I thought a great deal about their wounds and the overwhelming effect they had on their lives. I have learned that regardless of the importance of diagnosing these individuals based on DSM (Diagnostic Statistical Manual) criteria which are used by many professionals, every individual deserves to be treated as a person of worth with compassion, empathy, validation, and integrity. Today, as a psychotherapist and trauma professional these values represent my professional identity and practice.  

Like many others, I have experienced and witnessed distressing events that have impacted my family and myself. In my journey to become a therapist I suffered and hoped, I have experienced anxiety, distress and satisfaction, I developed a unique relationship with my true self, found meaning and the purpose in suffering - providing me with an opportunity for self-growth and self-actualization.  As Carl Rogers who inspired me both professionally and personally once said ''the organism has one basic tendency and striving - to actualize, maintain, and enhance the experiencing organism. The good life is a process, not a state of being. It is a direction, not a destination''.

I was one of those fortunate people who had close family members who were always there for me, who helped me to process my distress, and develop healthy ways of coping - they were my healers. Even though they left this earth, they still live in me, in my memories, they become a part of me. Today I am a therapist, a healer, a person who is devoting her life to help others find the meaning and purpose in their life within their struggles. I listen acceptingly and attentively to my clients, I struggle, puzzle and am curious with them and we search together for ways to help them heal and reach their potential in life.

Becoming a therapist combines both my personal and professional experiences. Through those, I grew in genuine love for all people regardless of their cultural or ethnic background. They shaped my personality and professional identity as well as practice. I find being a therapist specializing in trauma as an enriching career, even though at times it can be mentally and emotionally exhausting. I enjoy every aspect of it, the honor of being entrusted with deepest secrets or overwhelming experiences, the incredible human connection/intimacy, the possibility to be authentic and present and to actively listen, empathize and validate their wholeness is invaluable. To experience with and to ''hold'' another human being through the process of struggle, changes, healing, and transformation is the greatest reward one can experience. To witness a person’s face light up in hope for the future and witness their wounds becoming their strengths and meaning for the future are the greatest rewards for me as a therapist.