Navigating multicultural marriage

Alice Y.

I’ve always been independent, doing things my own way, but when I entered my multicultural marriage, I quickly learned that navigating different cultural backgrounds required me to adapt and grow. Growing up in Florida and living in places like Chicago and Alameda, I’m no stranger to change, but merging two distinct cultures in a relationship has been a unique journey. Every day brings new challenges, from understanding each other’s traditions and customs to finding common ground on how we communicate and approach conflict. There are moments of tension when we don’t see eye to eye, but we’ve learned to embrace our differences and use them as opportunities to learn and grow together. Over time, I’ve become more attuned to the nuances of our relationship, and I now approach each situation with patience, empathy, and a willingness to find creative solutions. What I’ve realized is that, while our cultures may shape us in different ways, our shared values and love for each other are what truly bind us. Through my own experience, I’ve gained valuable insights that I love to share with others in similar relationships—helping them navigate the complexities of cultural differences while building a deeper, more fulfilling connection with their partners.

Navigating collectivistic cultures while living in individualistic norms

Ambika M.

As a daughter of traditional South Asian immigrants, my upbringing was quite different than my American peers. I still hesitate to share if I'm hanging out with a male friend, even though I am pestered about marriage. Getting older has also involved outgrowing attitudes about myself, family, and relationships that hold me back, guilt included. I've worked to find my authentic self and accept occasionally being the black sheep in my close-knit family whom I love being near, but still need to enact boundaries with or know when to deep breathe instead of react. This also involves understanding the challenges with comparing to cousins in India, or peers whose parents grew up in America. If you've been stressed by the conflict of the third-culture sandwich, I'd love to chat.

Going through a breakup in college

Annalisa A.

Breaking up with someone in college hits differently. You’re juggling school, figuring out who you are, and trying to hold it all together while your heart feels like it’s falling apart. I’ve been through that (more than once) and I remember feeling like I had no one to really talk to. I didn’t want to burden my friends, and sometimes I even questioned whether what I was feeling was “that big of a deal.” But it was. That pain pushed me toward something more meaningful. I started volunteering for a crisis text line, and over time I’ve supported hundreds of people. Many of them were students just like me, trying to make sense of love, heartbreak, and everything in between. I listened as they cried over situations that felt impossible. I helped them find words for their feelings, breathe through the anxiety, and take small steps toward feeling whole again. Now, as I study behavioral health and counseling, I’m more certain than ever that breakups aren’t just about relationships ending, they’re about rediscovering who you are and what you deserve. I’m here to talk with anyone feeling stuck, confused, or heartbroken, because I know how healing it can be to have someone just listen and get it.

Growing up bilingual and bicultural

Branny M.

I immigrated to the U.S. from the Dominican Republic when I was just 10 years old. I didn’t speak any English, and everything felt unfamiliar—new school, new culture, and the pressure to adapt quickly. It wasn’t easy, but little by little, I learned the language, made friends, and found a sense of belonging. That journey shaped how I connect with others and how I view relationships. For a long time, I struggled with people-pleasing. I wanted to fit in, to be accepted—sometimes at the cost of my own needs. Over time, and with a lot of reflection and therapy, I began to understand where those patterns came from and how to build stronger, more honest connections. Now, as a school mental health therapist and former Youth Peer Advocate, I help others navigate similar challenges—especially young people trying to balance two cultures, family expectations, and their personal values. I know how complicated it can feel to hold onto your roots while growing into the person you want to be.

Raising a child with mixed heritage in a complex world

Brittany K.

When I became a mom, I knew I'd be learning as I went, but I didn’t realize how layered that learning would be. My daughter is Afro-Latina, and from an early age, she began experiencing rejection from parts of her Latina family because of her skin color. Watching her wrestle with where she belonged while I was still learning how to support her identity was heartbreaking and humbling. We’ve had to navigate colorism, cultural confusion, and a world that loves to put people in boxes. As a Black woman, I had to figure out how to hold space for the parts of her experience that weren’t mine, while still affirming every part of who she is. I didn’t always get it perfect, but I’ve always tried to make our home a place where she could be fully herself, even when the world made her question that. Now, she’s in college, and I see how powerful it is for her to walk with pride in every part of her identity. I’ve learned how important it is to have conversations about belonging, bias, and self-love early and often. If you’re raising a child of mixed heritage and wondering how to best support them as they build confidence and navigate hard questions, you’re not alone. I’d love to talk.

Navigating family resentment and emotional boundaries after immigration

Carine M.

When I first immigrated from Haiti about 15 years ago, the emotional distance from my family was overwhelming. The resentment from them for me leaving was heavy, and I felt like I was being torn between my own life and the expectations they had for me to stay connected in the same way we always had. It took me years to figure out how to set emotional boundaries—balancing the love I have for my family with the need to prioritize my own growth. The guilt of not being physically present and the cultural pressure to keep close ties while being far away really took a toll on me. Over time, I learned how to communicate more effectively with my family, showing them respect while protecting my emotional space. I also gained the courage to teach others, like my friends, how to do the same. One of my closest friends was struggling with a difficult relationship with her sister-in-law—someone who overstepped boundaries in a major way. I guided her through the process of asserting her limits and expressing her feelings, even though the situation didn’t have the happy resolution she had hoped for. She walked away with more confidence in herself and her ability to protect her emotional wellbeing. This journey of learning to communicate boundaries, even with family, has made me someone people come to for support. I want to help others who are navigating the emotional complexities of family relationships, especially when there’s distance—whether physical or emotional.

Rebuilding your life after divorce tied to health struggles

Debra H.

I got married at 20, and by 21 I was pregnant and facing devastating news: I had a rare vascular disease, and carrying a child could kill me. I had to make the painful decision to have a total hysterectomy, and not long after, my husband left. He couldn’t handle my health issues, and I was left grieving the loss of both a relationship and the future I had imagined. I’ve had over 55 surgeries in my life, and that period was one of the lowest. But I wasn’t done. I started my own transportation business—before Uber even existed—and threw myself into peer support work, helping others find their way through the dark. I’ve also lived through sexual assault, family mental illness, and the loss of a child, and I still continue my own therapy. My life hasn’t been easy, but I’ve rebuilt it on my own terms. If you’re feeling broken or abandoned because of something you never asked for, I’d love to talk.

Surviving a narcissistic marriage and finding love again

Dragana K.

I moved to the United States from Serbia with my ex-husband, who was a scientist pursuing his education. We started our family here, but over time, it became clear that he wasn’t as involved as I was. Our communication issues began to grow, and as the years passed, I started to recognize signs of narcissism in him. The verbal and emotional abuse took a toll on my self-esteem, and things got worse when he had an affair. The affair was incredibly painful, especially since we lived in a small town where everyone knew. The stress was overwhelming, and although we tried to reconcile, a family psychologist advised me to leave him. Two years later, I met my current husband, a psychologist, who helped me realize that I was a survivor of a narcissistic relationship. Now, I’m passionate about helping others who are navigating similar struggles, offering a compassionate ear and the support that I wish I had during those difficult times.

Navigating social life as a neurodivergent person

Ebony B.

Growing up as a first-generation American with Jamaican roots, I always felt a little out of sync with the world around me. I was the kid who asked “too many questions” and didn’t always pick up on unspoken social cues. At school, I felt like the weird one, and at home, I sometimes struggled to explain how I was feeling because emotional expression wasn’t really part of the conversation. My neurodivergence added another layer—reading people’s emotions was confusing, and I often worried I was doing something wrong without knowing what. I developed a habit of over-apologizing just to keep the peace, even if I hadn’t actually done anything. For years I masked my quirks to try and fit in, which only made me feel more alone. But over time, I started to embrace my way of moving through the world. I found that I thrive in friendships built around shared passions, even if they don’t follow traditional social “rules.” Now, I want to support others in discovering what authentic connection can look like for them—without needing to change who they are.

Being a white mother of a multi-racial child in a hostile environment

Katrina N.

I live in a very red rural conservative county. While many of the inhabitants are accepting of my new role as a mother of a POC (Person of Color) child, many loud voices say or do insensitive or hurtful things. Things no little kid should have to hear or be exposed to. Worse yet are those who don't know or admit their racism but still allow it to guide their actions and words. Not only is it very isolating it leaves me feeling on edge and constantly on guard in public and even at home if we step out the door. Sometimes I worry someone might hurt my child when she wants to play outside or she might see something or hear something on TV or radio. I know I cannot protect her forever but the feeling persists. I struggled to learn how to care for her unique mixed hair and later to afford that care all without help of her father or his family. I strive to raise her with age appropriate knowledge about her heritage without excusing of sugar coating the sins of the past, of white people.

Getting and staying sober from alcohol, opioids, and other substances after decades of use

Leon Z.

I started partying in high school and didn’t stop for decades. For most of my life, I was the guy who could drink, use, and still hold it all together—a good job, a strong marriage, two kids. But under the surface, things were unraveling. Five years ago, after a lot of nudging from my family, I went to rehab. It gave me a safe place to hit pause and reflect. But let me tell you—real life doesn’t stay on pause. Getting sober was one thing, staying sober was a whole different beast. I found my footing with the help of AA, a sponsor, and people who kept me accountable. I’ve been sober since June 2022, and every day since has been part of a better, more intentional life. Now I use what I’ve learned to support others—young people, veterans, even coworkers—because I know how lonely this path can feel. You don’t have to do it alone, and I’m here to talk through it with anyone ready to take that first or fiftieth step.

Overcoming alcohol addiction and rebuilding your life

McKenna W.

My struggle with alcohol began at 25 when I was in an abusive relationship. Instead of leaving, I turned to drinking to numb the pain and cope with the emotional turmoil. For three years, alcohol became my crutch, helping me avoid facing the reality of my life. After I finally left the relationship, I realized I couldn’t keep drinking. I experienced severe withdrawal symptoms, and it was a wake-up call. I entered rehab, first inpatient and then outpatient, for two months. While rehab helped, the real challenge was learning how to live without alcohol. I tried social drinking for a while, but soon realized it wasn’t an option for me. I made the decision to stop drinking altogether, and although I had relapses, I reminded myself each day of the progress I’d made. A year into sobriety, I knew I wanted to help others who were struggling with addiction. I’m now working toward my certification in chemical dependency counseling and leading health and wellness groups to guide others on their recovery journey.

Breaking into the 9-to-5 world as a first-gen college and corporate worker

Micah L.

As a first-generation college student and first-generation corporate worker, I had to figure everything out on my own, from applying to schools and building a resume to opening a 401(k), choosing an HSA, and learning how to navigate the world of corporate benefits and workplace etiquette. Watching my parents hustle through the 2008 recession taught me early on that I deeply value stability—and for me, that has come from a 9-to-5 job. That stability has allowed me to take control of my finances and start building the kind of security I’ve envisioned for years. Now, at 26, I’m often the youngest person and only woman in the room, especially in my male-dominated corner of tech. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s pushed me to learn how to advocate for myself, make the most of every opportunity, and be proud of how far I’ve come. I’ve become the friend who loves to talk openly about jobs and money, and I’d love to help others just starting their own path (especially those going to college and trying to break into the 9-to-5 world with no roadmap!)

Raising teens while balancing cultural values and modern life

Ronnie N.

When I became a dad, I knew parenting would be a journey — but raising three daughters in a culture different from my own brought its own special challenges. Coming from India, I held deep values around family, respect, and tradition, but I quickly learned I needed to listen and adapt as my daughters grew up in a very different environment. With my oldest daughter, I often felt torn between the way I was raised and the way she was experiencing the world. There were times I made mistakes, but I learned that open listening and constant love mattered more than rigid expectations. I also watched my brother struggle with harshness toward his kids and helped him see how a gentler approach could change everything. Through these experiences — and a lot of prayer and patience — I discovered how to raise strong, kind daughters without losing the heart of our family's faith and values. If you’re in the thick of parenting teens, trying to balance tradition and modern life, I’m here to listen and walk with you.

Navigating life as a first-generation American

Rosy F.

Growing up as a first-generation Dominican American, I've walked a unique path marked by the vibrant blending of two cultures. Navigating the expectations of my traditional Dominican family while embracing the American way of life often left me feeling like I was straddling two worlds. I faced challenges in balancing family responsibilities, cultural expectations, and my own aspirations. At times, I struggled with identity, questioned where I truly belonged, and experienced pressure to succeed academically and professionally to honor the sacrifices of my parents. Over the years, I've learned to harmonize these distinct cultural elements, embracing my heritage while confidently forging my own identity. I have cultivated resilience, strengthened my communication skills across generations, and learned to leverage my cultural perspective as a source of strength and creativity. If you're experiencing the challenges and triumphs of navigating life as a first-generation American, let's connect. You don't have to walk this journey alone.

Navigating recovery as a queer BIPOC teen

Skya F.

Growing up as a queer Black girl, I didn’t see anyone who looked like me talking openly about mental health or recovery. From a young age, I struggled with depression, anxiety, PTSD, and ADHD—but I kept it all inside. By 15, I turned to drugs and alcohol to cope with the pain and isolation I felt, especially around my identity and not feeling truly seen. I spiraled quickly, and for a few years, I lost myself. No one really talked about healing in my community, let alone from a place that honored who I was. But when I was 18, I finally reached out for help. Therapy gave me tools, and recovery gave me a new version of myself. I’ve been sober since 2019. Today, I’m passionate about holding space for other queer and BIPOC folks who are trying to heal in a world that often overlooks us. I want you to know that your story matters—and you don’t have to navigate it alone.

Coping with the loss of a parent and supporting others through grief

Waseeq M.

I lost my father at a young age, and growing up in a single-parent household as the youngest of four siblings, I had to step up in ways I didn’t expect. I became the listener in the family, learning the importance of being there for others when they were struggling. My own grief journey was difficult, and it took me a while to understand how to process my emotions. Over time, though, I realized that my struggles could become a source of strength for others. As I volunteered with the Crisis Text Line, I supported people who were grieving or in emotional turmoil, including someone whose father was on life support. She was in deep denial and didn’t know how to navigate the situation. I helped her process her emotions and guided her through the steps of accepting the reality of her father’s condition. Through experiences like these, I’ve learned how vital it is to hold space for people, listen to their pain, and offer hope. Grief is a difficult journey, and if you’re feeling lost in it, I’m here to help you find your way through.