Finding Your Voice Between Two Worlds
- therapywithjessiec
- Jan 12
- 3 min read

One of the most common things I hear in my therapy room—often within the first few sessions—is this:
“I don’t really know what my voice is.”
It’s usually said quietly. Sometimes with a shrug. Often with a sense of frustration or shame, as if this is something they should have figured out by now.
Many of the people I work with are immigrants, or first- and second-generation individuals who grew up navigating two worlds at once: the world inside the home, and the world outside of it. While this experience often builds resilience, empathy, and adaptability, it can also create a deep internal split—especially when it comes to identity and self-expression.
In many immigrant households, cultural traditions and values are not just encouraged—they are essential. They are how families preserve identity, safety, and belonging in a place that may not always feel welcoming.
Respect, humility, and harmony are often deeply valued. For many girls in particular, this can look like being encouraged to be quiet, soft-spoken, accommodating, and emotionally contained. At home, these traits are praised. Being agreeable is seen as maturity. Speaking less is seen as being respectful.
Then those same children step into classrooms, workplaces, and social spaces where the rules quietly—but clearly—change.
Now you’re expected to speak up. To advocate for yourself. To be confident, visible, assertive.
And without ever being taught how to move between these two worlds, many people internalize a painful belief:
Something must be wrong with me.
“This Is Just Not Me”
I hear this often:
“I’m just not outspoken like everyone else.”
“I freeze when I’m expected to speak up.”
“I don’t know how to advocate for myself without feeling guilty.”
“I don’t even know what I want to say.”
From a clinical perspective, this isn’t a personality flaw or a lack of confidence. It’s a learned adaptation.
When you grow up in an environment where safety and connection come from attuning to others—parents, elders, family expectations—your nervous system becomes incredibly skilled at reading the room and adjusting accordingly. Over time, your voice may become shaped more by what keeps relationships intact than by what feels true to you.
Many people realize, often for the first time in therapy, that their voice has been practiced mostly in response to others:
Their parents’ expectations
Their family’s sacrifices
Their partner’s needs
Their child’s wellbeing
And very rarely, in response to themselves.
Finding Your Voice Isn’t About Becoming Louder
A common misconception is that “finding your voice” means becoming more assertive, more confident, or more outspoken. For many of my clients, that idea feels uncomfortable—or even unsafe.
Finding your voice doesn’t mean rejecting your culture or becoming someone you’re not.
It means learning how to include yourself in the equation.
Clinically, this work often starts quietly, with questions that may feel unfamiliar:
What do I actually feel right now?
What do I need, separate from what’s expected of me?
What feels true for me, even if I don’t act on it yet?
Before voice comes awareness. And before awareness comes permission.
For many first- and second-generation individuals, therapy becomes one of the first spaces where there is no role to perform. No pressure to be the good daughter, the reliable one, the strong one.
Instead, we focus on building a sense of internal safety—so that your voice doesn’t have to come out through force or pressure, but through clarity.
This work is often gentle. Sometimes slow. And deeply relational.
We spend time understanding where certain beliefs came from, how they once protected you, and whether they still serve you now. We practice naming boundaries in ways that feel respectful and self-honouring. We get curious about your reactions, without judgment.
Over time, many people realize their voice was never missing.
It was simply waiting for a space where it was allowed to exist.
Holding Both Worlds
You don’t have to choose between your culture and your authenticity. You don’t have to become someone else to succeed. And you’re not behind for taking time to understand yourself.
Finding your voice—especially when you’ve grown up between worlds—is not about rejecting where you came from.
It’s about learning how to stand rooted in it, while still moving forward as yourself.
If this resonates with you, know that you’re not alone. And support can make this process feel a little less heavy.



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