Why So Many of Us Struggle to Express Emotion

Silence Was Survival Before It Became Our Struggle There was a moment in my adulthood that I will never forget. My brother and I stood in our kitchen crying to my mother. Not angry. Not disrespectful. Just hurting. Years of unspoken emotions finally came out at once. We asked her, “Why didn’t you teach us how to express our emotions?” I remember watching her face change. Not defensive. Not cold. Just tired. And then she apologized.

She told us something that changed how I viewed generations before me: “I wasn’t taught either.” That sentence broke something in me… and healed something too. Because suddenly I realized my mother was not withholding love from us. She was surviving the only way she knew how.

In many Chinese households, emotions were not something you sat around discussing. You endured. You stayed strong. You handled responsibilities quietly. You sacrificed silently. Love was often shown through provision, discipline, food on the table, long work hours, and making sure your children had opportunities you never had.

Affection was rarely verbal. Validation was rare. Hugs were uncommon. Not because there was no love. But because many of our parents were raised to believe survival mattered more than emotional expression. And survival has a way of hardening softness.

The Silent Language of Many Asian Homes

Growing up, I never learned how to process emotions properly. You pushed through them. You suppressed them. You stayed respectful. You stayed composed. Even now as an adult, it is still difficult sometimes.

When I finally try to express emotion, I often feel like I am “too emotional.” Like somehow feeling deeply is weakness. Like vulnerability makes people uncomfortable. And honestly? That battle is exhausting. Because part of me wants to communicate openly. But another part of me still carries generations of silence inside my body. Sometimes I can feel both cultures fighting inside me at once.

One side says: “Stay quiet. Handle it yourself.” The other says: “It is okay to feel.” That tension is real for so many first-generation children. We inherited strength. But many of us also inherited emotional suppression.

What My Daughter Is Teaching Me

Then I became a mother. And suddenly everything changed. My daughter loves hugs. She runs into my arms without hesitation. She wants closeness, affection, reassurance, warmth. And every single time she does it, I realize how unfamiliar that once felt to me growing up.

I remember hearing people say: “Don’t hold your baby too much. You’ll spoil them.” But when I became a mother, that never made sense to me. How can love spoil a child? How can comfort become too much? How can making your child feel safe in your arms be wrong?

So I hold her. I hug her when she cries. I let her express herself. I remind her that feelings are not shameful. And in many ways, while raising her… God is also healing me. Because sometimes parenting exposes the places in us that never got nurtured properly.

The Difference Between Honor and Silence

One thing I want to say clearly is this: Honoring our culture does not mean we cannot heal from what hurt us.

I will always honor the sacrifices of my parents and my heritage. The resilience in Chinese culture is powerful. The loyalty, discipline, endurance, and commitment to family shaped who I am. But healing matters too. Some of our parents survived environments where emotions were considered distractions from survival. Some carried trauma they never had the language to explain. Some never received affection themselves.

You cannot teach what you were never taught. And that realization gave me compassion for my mother. Because I no longer saw her as emotionally unavailable. I saw her as a woman carrying generations of unspoken pain while still trying to love us the best way she knew how.

Jesus Never Shamed Emotion

One thing that changed my perspective deeply was realizing how emotional Jesus actually was. The Bible shows us a Savior who wept, grieved, loved openly, showed compassion, and expressed sorrow. Jesus cried over Lazarus. Jesus showed anger at injustice. Jesus felt deep anguish in Gethsemane. Jesus loved people tenderly.

Emotion was never weakness to God. Even in the shortest verse in Scripture “Jesus wept” we see that holiness and emotion can coexist. God never asked us to become emotionally numb in order to be strong. Real strength is having the courage to feel, heal, and still love anyway.

Breaking Cycles Without Breaking Roots

That is what KNg Dynasty means to me. It is not rejecting where we came from. It is refining it.

It is carrying forward the beauty of our heritage while healing what generations before us did not have the chance to heal. I am learning that I can be emotionally open and still strong. Soft and still disciplined. Affectionate and still resilient. Those things are not opposites. And maybe this generation is the bridge generation.

The generation that learns how to keep the honor, loyalty, sacrifice, and resilience… while also learning emotional safety, communication, affection, and healing. Maybe that is our assignment. To build families where our children never have to beg for emotional connection. To raise children who know that hugs are safe. That tears are allowed. That feelings are not failures.

Final Thoughts

I still struggle sometimes. There are moments when expressing emotion feels uncomfortable. Moments when I still want to shut down instead of speak. Moments when old cultural habits rise back to the surface. Healing is not instant.

But every time I hug my daughter, every time I choose communication over silence, every time I allow myself to feel instead of suppress… I know the cycle is slowly changing. And maybe our parents were not emotionally expressive because nobody ever held them long enough to teach them how. But we can learn. And through God’s grace, we can pass something softer down without losing the strength that built us.