Caught Between Cultures: What It Feels Like to Be a Brown Kid in China

When people talk about culture shock, they often imagine moving to a completely different country, facing unfamiliar customs, or struggling with a new language. But sometimes, the biggest shocks don’t come from the country itself—they come from realising just how different you are within your own spaces. That was my experience as a brown girl in China, trying to fit into a British school while holding onto my Indian roots.

I didn’t grow up in China. I lived in Dubai and India during my nursery and primary years—places where I never really questioned my identity. I was surrounded by people who looked like me, understood my background, and spoke the same languages I did. But moving to China for secondary school changed everything. I joined a British curriculum school where I was the only Sikh, the only Indian girl in my year group, and often the only person with my experiences in the room.

At first, I didn’t realise how much I was trying to fit in. I wouldn’t call it living a double life, but I definitely adjusted parts of myself to feel more accepted. I didn’t speak much about my culture because, truthfully, most people around me didn’t understand it. Sometimes they judged me—not maliciously, I later realised—but out of pure unfamiliarity. It took me a long time to understand that.

Before COVID, I stayed mostly quiet about these things. But during and after the pandemic, something shifted. I started speaking more confidently about my culture—what I wore, what I celebrated, why I looked different. And slowly, I started noticing something strange: people were actually listening. They were curious, not critical. That was the moment I realised all the judgment I’d felt wasn’t really about me or my religion—it was about not knowing. People often fear or mock what they don’t understand. But once they do, the conversation changes completely.

This shift in perspective wasn’t limited to school. One of the biggest insecurities I faced was my body. In India and Dubai, I comfortably wore sizes XS or S. But in China, I suddenly found myself reaching for M or L—and not because I had changed, but because sizing standards were different. Shopping became an uncomfortable experience. Every time I walked into a store, I felt the stares. I didn’t just feel “big”—I felt out of place. And in a society that places so much value on appearances, that can really mess with your confidence.

But as I grew more self-assured, my interpretation of those moments changed. I started responding to those stares with eye contact and a smile. And more often than not, what I received in return surprised me.

“妹妹，你看起来很漂亮，我喜欢你的眼睛。”


“Little sister, you look very beautiful. I love your eyes.”

The same looks I had once thought were judgmental were actually filled with admiration. And that moment stuck with me.

It taught me something important: how you perceive others often says more about your mindset than their actions. When I was insecure, I assumed the worst. When I grew confident, I started seeing the good.

Of course, identity and belonging are not solved overnight. Even now, there are moments when I feel out of place or misunderstood. But I’ve also learned that being different isn’t a disadvantage—it’s a kind of power. It means I bring something new to the table, whether it’s my culture, my language, my appearance, or my story.

If you’ve ever felt like the “odd one out,” whether in school, work, or even within your own community, I want you to remember this: there’s nothing wrong with wanting to belong—but never at the cost of shrinking yourself. You don’t need to become less of who you are to be accepted. And if people judge you before knowing you, that’s on them, not you.

So here’s what I’ll leave you with:

Shift your perspective. EMBRACE YOUR DIFFERENCE.

You’d be surprised how much changes when you start seeing yourself with the same kindness you offer others.