Nine words, spoken by my father during a phone call in late 2006, reshaped my whole life.
“Thamee (daughter in Burmese), would you like to come and study here?”
So we packed up our home in Yangon, Myanmar, and in May 2007, we set foot on Singaporean soil. I was eight years old.
My father always said it was my education that brought our family here. Yet, as I grew older, I became more aware of a silent struggle within me.
I felt trapped between two worlds. The tug-of-war between integrating into Singaporean society and honouring the traditions that my parents fiercely preserved weighed heavily on me.
Over time, what started as a cultural balancing act then became a core part of my identity.
LEARNING TO FIT IN
Despite my fears, I was excited to learn about my new environment.
I adjusted pretty quickly, from starting primary school to learning Chinese and picking up Singlish. Local habits became second nature (chope a table before you order food, obviously), and I even earned a Chinese name from my then-teacher.
By the age of 10, I was speaking both English and Mandarin fluently, my cadence and accent indistinguishable from most Singaporeans. I wasn’t just fitting into Singaporean culture. I was thriving.
