Big Asian Energy

1

Asian Confidence Hits Different

Daniel isn't shy, and he's tired of people thinking he is.

He is a second-generation Korean American, and often feels that people assume his more soft-spoken demeanor or vibe of polite friendliness reflects a lack of confidence or assertiveness.

"My boss thinks I'm too quiet at meetings, but I didn't think it was necessary to always hog the spotlight. I'd rather say it in an email after the meeting so I'm not inconveniencing everyone else or wasting their time. But as a result, I often felt like I was working more than others, yet getting less recognition for my work because I'm not speaking up enough."

Daniel asked his boss why he was getting skipped over for a promotion at work, even though he felt that his white coworkers who did get promotions didn't work as hard, or didn't have the same seniority. His boss said he was a great worker, but wasn't sure if he had the "leadership presence" or confidence they were looking for. And like so many Asian Americans, he was tired of the myth that Asians aren't confident.

"I didn't want to make a big fuss about it, but it's not that I'm shy or not confident. I just don't like to be boastful or to always be talking about myself. It's really frustrating because I feel like they want me to play this character, and it's just not who I am."

Despite being born in California, Daniel described his upbringing by his Asian parents as traditional. He was always taught to be humble, to keep his head down and work hard to meet their expectations, which is what he strives for. "My parents were pretty strict, and they did push me to focus on academics rather than stuff like making friends or socializing. I'm grateful for them and the sacrifices they made, but now I wonder what would have happened if I had the same kind of swagger the popular kids did."

He sighed, then admitted: "It's not just at work either. I feel this way in my social life as well. My girlfriend has mentioned I'm too nice and easygoing. I think she secretly wants me to be more dominant and aggressive, but I don't know how. I'm just a simple guy, and don't want to be an asshole to people just to gain respect."

"Sure." I nodded. "What if there's nothing wrong with the way you are, but you're just misunderstood? What if the truth is: confidence simply looks different for you?"

When people talk about confidence here, they usually picture someone bold, extroverted, or loud-spoken. Growing up, most of the movies I watched had action heroes like Indiana Jones, Tony Stark, Captain Kirk, or Katniss Everdeen. They exuded a self-assuredness that bordered on cocky, which was different from how Asians were portrayed (or entirely left out) in those same movies.

And I noticed when I turned to the heroes from Asian media, they act differently. They're more reserved, humble, and understated. Their heroism is usually reflected in their quiet sacrifice and perseverance, rather than their brashness. In Crazy Rich Asians, for example, when the billionaire male lead surprises his girlfriend with a first-class flight, she asks if he's rich. He answers with a humble and embarrassed smile: "Oh, we're comfortable." I laughed because it was something I've heard so often from Asian clients, who worked hard to downplay their successes in front of others, out of humility. We don't self-promote our accomplishments.

In Asian cultures, true confidence doesn't need to flaunt. The heroes aren't often going around challenging everyone to a fight. They are simply going about their lives undercover, as hidden dragons, until the situation calls for them to step up and unleash their true capabilities to the surprise and awe of everyone around.

The embodiment of confidence in Asian stories seems more humble and subtle. In fact, those who are always trying to show off their power or wealth are usually seen as villains or comedic side characters. Studies on Asian cultures show that humility or modesty aren't meant to underplay personal strengths. Instead, this reserve is seen as a sign of respect to the community.

Viewed through that lens, confidence is not about the display or performance. Your true confidence can come from your acceptance of your own strengths, without feeling a need to show your superiority to others. You don't have to be the person talking over others or cutting them off. You can be the one who simply maintains a reserved stance most of the time, but when you do decide to speak, everyone immediately quiets down and listens. The effect is felt. Confidence can look like many things-quiet and unassuming, but powerful in the ways that matter.

Yet external expectations often lead us to genuinely believe we're not enough. We're assumed to be meek instead of confidently reserved. We're perceived as not having accomplishments, simply because we aren't loudly promoting them. When we're repeatedly boxed in by these expectations by the people around us, it can be easy to question ourselves. So how do we begin the tough process of becoming more confident and breaking through our own internal limitations first?

Many of my clients struggle with this first hurdle, and it's an understandable frustration. They often feel they must puff up their chest or be more extroverted to be seen as strong among their white peers, who misinterpret their humility as weakness. "In my culture, being humble is really important. It shows respect to your elders and your peers," Daniel continued. "We were taught to put others first."

I agreed-being considerate is absolutely a great virtue. I then pointed out that the definition of confidence or strength looks different across cultures. In the United States, confidence tends to be portrayed as being loud, domineering, and aggressive. I asked Daniel to list examples of figures in Asian cultures he'd consider to be confident and powerful. He wrote down names such as Bruce Lee, Lucy Liu, Michelle Yeoh, Kumail Nanjiani, Sandra Oh, Ken Watanabe, Manny Jacinto, Iman Vellani, and Seo Kang Joon.

Once we had this list of names, we started examining what features were universal across both Asian and Western cultures. We came up with the following values of what almost every culture sees as being strong, confident, and empowered, regardless of their race or gender:

They don't need external validation.

They have integrity and are willing to stand up for what they believe in.

They are willing to make difficult decisions, have difficult conversations, and do difficult things.

They have the capacity to be assertive and direct in their communication.

They can fully accept themselves, faults and all, and can also be seen for their strengths, without sacrificing humility.

They take ownership and responsibility for their own lives rather than externalize blame.

They have the grace and courage to seek out help when needed.

They are capable of leading, even if they don't fight for leadership at every turn.

Suddenly, the picture seemed much more universal. These Asian characters we admired were not perfect, but they were also not people-pleasing. They can put others first without putting themselves last.

When we started listing what was universally seen as the opposite of being strong, confident, and powerful, the following answers seemed obvious as well:

They're people-pleasing or self-diminishing.

They work hard but never give themselves credit, or they feel like they're constantly not doing enough.

They struggle to speak up for themselves and avoid any confrontation, usually through passive aggression or
"being nice."

They are always caretaking other people's needs, even when their own needs are neglected or their lives are a mess.

They obsess over how other people view them, and project a false veneer of being happy or successful, but struggle in secret.

They burn themselves out doing things for others, and feel guilty for saying no.

They're indecisive or often flip-flop between decisions.

They often censor themselves instead of being direct about what they want.

Daniel stared at this list for a second, and confessed, "I think I fit almost all of these." He paused, then quietly asked, "What's wrong with me? Why am I like this?"

I said, "There's nothing wrong with you. These are just behavioral patterns you've learned at some point in your life. We've all grown up with different types of conditioning that help us fit in and survive in the environments we're in. The conditioning isn't bad or good, it's just a matter of figuring out if they're still helpful for you."

I walked over to the whiteboard and drew three circles, layered within each other. In the inner circle, I wrote "True Self"; in the middle circle, "Family Conditioning"; and finally in the outer circle, "Social Conditioning."

Then I said, "At the core of who we are is our true selves. It's the most authentic, confident, and empowered version of us. Over time, we are given family and cultural roles and conditioning that taught us who we are supposed to be in those positions. And finally, we leave our homes and go into the world, where we experience social conditioning, such as pressures to assimilate or to adapt to a different culture to belong."

I pointed to the outer ring: "Each of these layers represent conditioning that has helped us to adapt, survive, or thrive. Kind of like learning a new language. For Asians, especially those of us who live in non-Asian countries, the clash between our Asian family conditioning and the outer Western conditioning can create some confusion, because they aren't always the same. At the same time, some layers of our conditioning may no longer be serving us. That's what we're looking for."

Finally, I added, "It's really not about how to look or seem more confident, but about finding the source of who you truly are, and unapologetically owning it in the world. That's what true confidence is."

A few months later, I heard back from Daniel. Over coffee, he excitedly told me that his life had transformed. He was able to negotiate a promotion at his company that not only paid him more but also allowed him to take charge on a project he had wanted to lead for years. He also said that his relationship improved, and that his girlfriend had even complimented him on how much more confident and assertive he seemed. But what truly surprised him was the fact that even his parents noticed the change and started praising him in front of others.

"Of course," I said, "and that version of yourself was always there. You just needed to unlearn some unhelpful habits."

"Who Do You Mean by Asians, Anyway?"

Asians aren't a monolithic group. That would be impossible since Asia currently covers some 4.7 billion people. That's 60 percent of the world's population, including some fifty-five individual countries and states. There is simply no way to ever try to generalize or even categorize that many different types of human beings. Which is why even throughout this book, nothing I'll say will ever intend to suggest "this is something that all Asians do or are." That'd be silly.

Yet, in regions like North America, Europe, Australia, South America, and Africa, the word Asian seems to focus only on a few select racial stereotypes. For example, South Asians (from countries like India or Pakistan) in North America might feel left out of conversations when a racial identifier like Asian is brought up, because the term here tends to refer to East Asians. Interestingly, this is often flipped in countries like the United Kingdom, where Asian is usually more closely linked to India and Pakistan due to the larger population in the UK.

Among all these countries, there is a vast collection of diverse ethnicities, religions, lifestyles, languages, and nuances. But for the most part, anthropologists and sociologists have found the one thing that connects us is that the majority of Asian cultures are more collectivist than individualistic.

In most collectivist cultures, the core values prioritize the duty you have toward your family and community, whereases individualist cultures hold that you have a duty and responsibility to look after yourself. For example, there is usually an expectation in individualist cultures for children to move out of their family homes when they reach adulthood, as opposed to the Asian expectation for them to stay in the family home and continue to care for their parents in their senior age. That's because in collectivist cultures, our duty might include making sure that the family's goals are kept in mind over our individual goals.

Roughly speaking, across most studies on collectivist cultures, some common core values that appear are:

Harmony: Family and community harmony is a major focus. This value stresses the importance of social duty and the expectation for everyone to play out the roles assigned to them. Being nonconfrontational so as to avoid burdening others is often part of the social expectations of maintaining harmony.

Hard Work: There is a strong emphasis on working hard to provide not just for ourselves but also for our family and community. One needs to self-sacrifice and prioritize academic or workplace achievement over personal enjoyment. This value is not merely a reflection of one's personal abilities; it is a reflection of one's ability to contribute to the family and to society.

Humility: Being humble and modest is highly valued in collectivist cultures. This isn't simply about being less prideful or arrogant, but the recognition that our successes are often at the sacrifices and hard work of those who have supported us along the way, especially our parents and family.

Honor: Each individual is seen as an extension of their family. When a person is pressured into a certain social position or gender role, their ability to embody this role is seen as a reflection of family honor or "face." Since you are an extension of your family, how you show up is also a reflection of your family's status.

Hierarchy: Filial piety is promoted as an important value. This involves respecting and obeying the desires of your elders, parents, or members of authority in the community. Children are expected to care for their parents in old age. Multigenerational households are much more common in collectivist cultures.

These are all great values and are deeply embedded in the fabric of the culture I grew up in. Of course it was normal for me to be at home practicing piano instead of going to watch a movie with friends on the weekend. I needed to work hard, not just for my own sense of accomplishment or personal fulfillment, but so that I could live up to the sacrifices my parents made for me.

In a really subtle way, the expectation to achieve and behave well in front of others seemed universal, in the same way the desire to succeed is universal. Maybe your parents never forced you to study hard or go into a field they want, but the pressure was still there as they had made sacrifices for you. To be a good child means one day repaying their sacrifices, so how could you not return the favor by also making sacrifices?