Circling the Square: A Reflection on Identity, Belonging, and Self-Awareness

A Journey Through Culture, Belonging, Identity, and the Quiet Power of Self-Acceptance

When it comes to identity, I’ve been trying to put into words a kind of elevator pitch—something concise that explains how I see myself. However, the truth is that identity isn’t easily packaged. I am an amalgamation of cultures, experiences, and tastes—a person shaped by cultures within cultures.

I have a Midwestern sensibility grounded in the practical and straightforward values of Middle America. I’ve detasseled corn in the fields of Nebraska and grown up alongside the children of America’s heartland. I understand and deeply appreciate what America stands for. I’m proud to be part of its fabric.

And yet, I am also Vietnamese.

Though I haven’t been back since I left nearly 50 years ago, Vietnam lives in me. Its beauty, traditions, and quiet strength are etched into my heart. I believe, at my core, I am Vietnamese. But how do I reconcile these identities? Am I American? Vietnamese? Vietnamese American? None of these labels feel quite right. They fall short. I’m just… me.

I feel incredibly fortunate to have lived a life between two worlds, to celebrate and participate in the customs, rituals, and values that define each culture. But along with that richness has come a persistent sense of isolation—the feeling of not being fully a part of either world. I’ve often longed for the deeper, effortless connection that comes from belonging wholly to one side.

Growing up, I was an outsider. We were the only Vietnamese family in an all-white neighborhood, I'd often joked that we were token minority for the entire state. I spoke the language, understood the pop culture, and did my best to fit in—to act “as if” I were truly American. But I never quite was. I looked different. At home, we ate differently, our house smelled different, and my parents spoke with accents and followed unfamiliar customs. I couldn’t explain it as a child, but I knew I was different, even though I desperately wanted not to be.

As I grew older, that difference came into sharper focus. I became more curious about who I really was. I tried to uncover my “Vietnameseness,” but for a long time, all I had were fragments—blurry, abstract images with no solid shape.

I sought answers in relationships. I had long-term partners who were Vietnamese—it looked right, it felt right in theory. But something was missing, something intangible a "J’ai ne sais quoi", that elusive feeling that makes things truly resonate. So, I tried the other direction and dated white women. Those relationships were deep and meaningful, too, but again, something was incomplete. The picture didn’t quite come together.

I’ve bounced between friend groups, communities, and relationships—seeking clarity about who I really am. And while the journey has yet to offer one simple answer, what I’ve found instead is an evolving understanding: I don’t have to fit into a neat category. Maybe circling this square of identity means learning to live within the questions themselves—and finding peace in the space between worlds.

What I’ve come to realize is that happiness—and a deeper sense of life satisfaction—doesn’t come from fitting neatly into a predefined box. It’s not about being able to say, “I am this,” or “I belong there.” The real contentment comes from appreciating the journey, from honoring all the experiences that have shaped me into who I am today.

Trying to define myself with a label—Vietnamese, American, Vietnamese American—never actually brought clarity or peace. Because the truth is, there’s no additional value in naming it. The value is in living it.

I’ve come to see that I was given a gift from the very start. The gift of living in both worlds. The gift of perspective. The ability to taste, hear, feel, and understand life from different cultural angles. The richness of eating pho at home while celebrating the Fourth of July with neighbors. The dual fluency in values, languages, and expectations—sometimes confusing, often complicated, but always illuminating.

For much of my life, I thought I was chasing a sense of belonging. I thought if I could just figure out where I fit, I’d finally feel whole. But that was the wrong quest. The goal was never to fit perfectly. The goal was to understand, to appreciate, and ultimately, to accept.

Because here’s the deeper truth: all of us, no matter who we are, carry longings. We all carry insecurities about where we belong and whether we’re truly seen or understood. It’s a human condition, not a cultural one.

What we seek isn't some external confirmation of identity. It’s internal acceptance. And that only comes when we stop trying to be something and start honoring what we already are.

If you don’t know who you are, how can you possibly know where you belong?

But once you accept yourself—fully, without trying to squeeze into someone else’s mold—that’s when you realize you’ve belonged all along, not to a group, not to a category, but to yourself. And in that, there is peace. There is strength. And there is a quiet joy in knowing that the journey itself was always the destination.

I’ve always thought of myself as a bit of a late bloomer. I didn’t expect it would take me this long to truly get to know myself. But now that I kind of do, I’m happier for it. There’s a clarity that has settled into my life. I no longer chase belongings. My insecurities have quieted. I see the advantage of my dual cultural experience, and I’m ready to put it to good use.

I’m not just bridging the space between my Vietnameseness and my Americanness—I’m thinking even bigger. I want to help connect people across all kinds of perspectives, backgrounds, and identities. That’s why I’m launching Chautastic!

Chautastic! is a space to explore cultural identity, relationships, self-awareness, and the beautiful, complicated art of being human. It’s for anyone who’s ever wondered, “Who am I?” and “Where do I belong?”—and found that the answers live in the journey itself.

Join me at Chautastic.com and contribute to the conversation. Let’s connect through stories, share what makes us unique, and celebrate what we all have in common: the search for self, the longing to be seen, and the joy of finally coming home to who we are.