How to Sit, How to Eat, How to Suffer Quietly.
Reflections from a British-born Nigerian, suspended between two cultures, too much and never quite enough.
I was born in England. Raised in Nigeria. And for the last thirteen years, I’ve lived back in the UK and still don’t quite know where I belong.
I’ve studied and made friends in both countries. I’ve sat in churches, public buses, WhatsApp groups, and now, mostly, in virtual rooms where interaction has become flattened to video calls and polite emojis. And through all of that, one truth keeps repeating itself:
I am always too much or not enough -never just right.
In Nigeria, I was the quiet one. Not boisterous enough, not bubbly enough, not quick to perform the warmth expected of a “proper” Nigerian. I was open, but not loudly. Emotional, but private. And that felt like a defect in a culture that values expressiveness.
Then I moved back to England.
And suddenly, the small honesty I had felt comfortable sharing became too much. People here ask if you’re okay, but they’re not actually asking. “You alright?” is just a sound. The correct response is “Yeah, fine,” with maybe a question about the weather. You do not talk about sadness. You do not unpack loneliness. You do not make the room heavier than it needs to be.
What I’ve learned is that emotional restraint is a way of life here - a performance stitched into every social interaction. There are rules. Rules about how to sit, how to eat, how to behave at events, how to dress grief in humour. Even online, where interactions are technically boundless, the codes remain. It’s not safe to just be. You must perform comfort, even if you’re slowly disappearing under the weight of isolation.
I once saw an account called Englishman Called Mike that breaks down what British expressions really mean. I laughed. But I also winced. Because it’s funny until you realise that none of this is exaggerated. “Not bad” means “good.” “We should catch up sometime” means “we probably never will.” “Could be worse” means “I’m barely holding on but I won’t tell you that.” And there’s another account - a posh etiquette expert - who teaches how to eat, how to speak, how to behave. It’s polished, aspirational, very British. But also incredibly sad. Because those rules are not just social graces. They are instructions for emotional invisibility.
There’s a culture of quiet suffering here. People hold everything in — grief, stress, mental health - behind jokes and small talk and half-smiles in team meetings. I’ve tried to open up in online friendships and “safe” spaces, and even there, the discomfort is clear. Vulnerability is welcomed only when it’s charming. It’s rarely welcome when it’s real.
And the irony? This is a country that has mental health slogans on billboards. Posters that say It’s okay not to be okay. Hashtags for awareness days. But what’s awareness when nobody really wants to hear the answer to How are you?
I’ve been to churches here in the past. I’ve sat through the soft hymns and polite prayers, the coffee and small talk. It’s a far cry from Nigerian churches -wild with energy, noise, tears, laughter, raw worship. There, church is about release. Here, it felt like theatre. And I don’t say that as judgment - say it as someone who kept trying to feel something and found herself edited down to fit the room.
I don’t attend church now. I don’t go into offices. Most of my life is virtual. But even from behind a screen, I can feel the weight of it. The coded emotional stiffness. The unspoken rules.
In Nigeria, I was quiet in a loud room.
In England, I’m loud in a quiet one.
I’ve spent most of my life sitting in the middle. A British citizen, but never quite English. A Nigerian, but not Nigerian enough. A person shaped by both worlds and still surprised by how little room either makes for someone like me.
I’ve learned how to code-switch. How to tone myself down. How to keep things light. But I’m still learning how to show up fully -not just the version people find easiest to digest.
I don’t have answers. I don’t have a grand takeaway. But I know I’m not the only one. There are many of us - cultural in-betweeners, emotional shapeshifters, digital nomads of the self - trying to find spaces where we don’t have to shrink to be accepted.
So if no one else will say it, I will:
I’m not fine.
"But thank you for asking."
About the Creator
Cathy (Christine Acheini) Ben-Ameh.
https://linktr.ee/cathybenameh
Passionate blogger sharing insights on lifestyle, music and personal growth.
⭐Shortlisted on The Creative Future Writers Awards 2025.
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Comments (18)
I love this!!! Such talent, such wisdom, such courage.
Wow!! I think this is my new favorite! I can totally relate I never feel like I belong anywhere for one, and two theirs so much I wanna say but I don't want to be a downer so I keep it in, I feel like nobody in my life understands me because of it and it feels really lonely..if you ever need to talk I'm here, to actually listen and not judge I'd do the same and actually be real about what's really bothering us and not sugarcoat things. I need a friend like that lol
WoW! I enjoyed reading your story with great interest! Thank you for sharing and congratulations on TS!
Congratulations on well deserved top story🎉🎉🎉 And yes, very relatable when living in two worlds as I am 😉
I'm not fine either, sis. But although we are cultural nomads you and I, (I'm a Costa Rican-American), we've found our language and our people in writing and the writing community. It is difficult. Maybe I'm not British but I live in the South where manners and "yes ma'am" is all the rage. We keep nice lawns and sit in the same pew every Sunday. But I was born in Costa Rica where heaviness is deflected with humour and if you see a therapist you must be crazy because all you have to do is rub dirt on it. I finally got off social media. A lot of people came to appreciate my authenticity all while others in my life slowly stepped back. But love, if you ever need a friend to remind you you're exactly who God made you to be, let's chat. WhatsApp or something. I'd love a British Nigerian friend. Also, your voice is... refreshing.
This is excellent, I kept seeing it and was sure I had read it, I have now, and you deserved your reward too
Beautiful. I’ve felt this too.
The whole irony of quiet suffering juxtaposed with mental health slogans on billboards. Yes yes and yes again! Wonderful piece mate!!!
'Emotional shapeshifters' I hear you! I know how it feels to be stuck in-between it all...Welcome to the in-between, I guess? Congrats on Top Story, this one was super heartfelt and really honest. Hugs 🫂🌱✨
I wish you a speedy way out
"Vulnerability is welcomed only when it’s charming. It’s rarely welcome when it’s real." I couldn't have said it better myself. Sadly, this is true here as well. Sending you lots of love and hugs ❤️ Congratulations on your Top Story! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
America is similar. Congrats on your top story!
Congratulations on this Top Story, Cathy! I wonder if the etiquette expert is William Hanson, there are so many others now all over the place. I think William was the first, years ago. Anyway … So much to unpack! I think the reason why you see the mental health this and that on billboards today is because it’s something that has been finally acknowledged and now it’s Okay to start opening up about it, just this may be going slow and it’s a bit dependent of the generation. Most older people will be more traditional, although there are exceptions as well. I don’t know about church, but what about trying a different church to see how you feel? I’m guessing you were going to a Nigerian church. Escape the box, try not to put yourself in just one box. Enjoy and cherish your individuality. I have the impression that you want to fit in either the British box or the Nigerian box, and you are trying the traditional boxes. But there’s much more than that on both sides. Try the untraditional boxes, which exist although not easily visible. And most of all, try to just be yourself anywhere you are and be comfortable with it. You don’t really have to fit a mould. You are your own. I really support individualism. That’s what makes us all unique. But this is my personal view. I follow a Nigerian girl on Instagram, she’s a model when she’s in the west and when she’s in Nigeria she lives the typical small village life. It’s truly fascinating to see how she adapts to such different ways of life, doing things, and cultures. I’ll send you the link. She speaks a lot about how she sees these differences. It fascinates me to see her face on a Vogue cover and then see her cooking for the family in the open, eating with a banana leaf. I think she’s quiet for Nigeria standards and bubbly in other places. Her adaptation and how easy she seems to be everywhere is what fascinates me. At the start of her Instagram, she shows king of the struggle of her two lives, I think. One day I started watching from her first posts and moving on to the present. It’s there when I saw that she must have struggled at the start, but she had a dream to become a model. I was once trying to find my place in the world and travelled extensively for this. I learned that is not the place or one culture what makes you. It’s your capacity to absorbed what makes you feel you from each place, and you become a true multicultural individual with no labels but an incredible capacity for adaptation and being yourself in each place. Because I am sure there are things you like and others you dislike from each place. You don’t have to fit in just want place when you can pick from each place what adapts to you. That’s a different way of looking at things. :)
congratulations on TS. In a weird sort of way, I can almost relate. Although born in the USA, my mom and her family came to America from Liverpool, England. I was raised with the English "code" (if you can call it that). Yes, I'm fine. Yes, my back hurts, but I'm still moving. ETC.... I was and still am the "quiet" one when in a crowd. Put me with my family and well, all hell breaks lose. GREAT story. LOVE it.
People do that in America, too. It's not you; it's cultural/societal gaslighting. Asking someone a question and then punishing them for answering it is wrong. No one should have to keep everything hidden, no matter who they are or where they live.
I love the unapologetic-ness in this. Because if anything, others should apologize for being dumb. Look at us being loud in quiet rooms.
Thank you for sharing your perspective. From what you describe about British politeness and small talk, I think America is similar in that respect, although we can be loud while saying nothing. It’s not healthy to bottle everything up and “perform.” Great piece 💜
Well-wrought, Cathy! I think of the line from the Pink Floyd song: "Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way." Precocious children and cultural vanguards also must learn how to live in this liminal space, sometimes for more than just their emotional safety!