Loah (31) grew up in The Netherlands with a Brazilian mother and a Taiwanese father. Because of this background she faced racism, whilst also experiencing a turbulent home life. Her parents’ absence throughout most of her life also impacted her life significantly.
Trigger warning: suicidal thoughts and sexually transgressive behavior
Mental health remains a taboo topic, especially within East and Southeast Asian communities. Many people feel immense pressure to act tough and keep their emotions to themselves, fearing that they might disappoint their families, lose face, or become a burden. As a result, mental health struggles like depression and suicidal thoughts are often endured in silence.
In this series, we share the stories of individuals who have experienced suicidal thoughts or have lost someone to suicide. Their experiences highlight the challenges of discussing these feelings and the urgent need for greater openness and understanding.
By sharing these stories, we aim to break the stigma surrounding mental health and encourage others to seek the help they need, free from shame or fear.
Both from different backgrounds, Loah’s parents met each other in the Netherlands. On her father’s side, her (Taiwanese) grandfather came to the Netherlands as a migrant worker in the 1970s. After a year, he brought over his entire family: his wife and their two sons (Loah’s father and uncle). Together, they settled in Brabant and opened a Chinese-Indonesian restaurant. Loah’s family is quite diverse. Besides her older brother, she has a Brazilian-Japanese half-sister who is nine years older and a Taiwanese-Chinese half-brother who is eight years younger.
Since 2019, Loah lives in Rotterdam, where she noticed a big difference with Brabant. “A lot of people in Brabant don’t often think outside the box, their mentality is often very tunnel visioned: ‘Just act normal, that’s already crazy enough,’” she says. During primary and secondary school, she was bullied a lot, mostly because she stuck out in the predominantly White area. She was often excluded, and even now, people there still make racist jokes about her ethnicity. However, life feels much better in Rotterdam; the city’s diversity and openness makes her feel more comfortable and at home.
““When my parents were still together, there were often arguments, both between my parents and with my half-sister. The situation was so chaotic that at one point, we had twenty-two cats in the house because my mother had lost control over the household and our animals. There was often little to eat, and sometimes we’d knock on our neighbours’ doors to ask for food.
When I was eight, my parents got divorced, and everything went downhill from there. We lived with my mother, but due to various circumstances, she lost control of her own life and of us. Sometimes she’d just forget about us, and we had to take care of ourselves. She was rarely home, which put the responsibility on us for things like getting to school on time, making meals, and getting good grades.
As a child, I got used to her absence. I would start crying and screaming whenever she was about to leave because I wanted her to stay with me. These experiences led to my abandonment issues, which I’m still in therapy for. This continues to play a big role in my life.
When my mother had to go to Brazil to arrange my grandmother’s funeral, my uncle, the brother of my mother, came from Brazil to the Netherlands to take care of us. During this time, he sexually abused me. When my mother returned from Brazil, it turned out that she hadn’t paid the rent which caused us to be evicted. A large container was placed in front of our house, and all our belongings and toys were thrown into it. We were only allowed to fill one bag with personal items.”
”My father was always busy with his restaurant and his business, so he had little time for us. His goal was to build a successful company. Occasionally, we would see each other, often going into town to buy things. In those moments I would briefly feel at ease and happy; he was showing his way of love. But honestly, emotionally, I never had a real connection with him, and this will likely never change.”
“My paternal grandparents came by every weekend to help us. They took care of us and even filled our fridge. Eventually, my mother lost custody, and my father took over. He decided that we would live with his parents. This happened when I was in 7th grade, so I was about eleven or twelve. It’s all a bit blurry; I don’t remember much from that time.
I lived with my grandparents until I was eighteen. While I have tremendous respect for them and am grateful they took us in, sometimes it was difficult to live there. We had different cultural backgrounds, and there was a language barrier. My brother always took precedence, especially because he was a boy. His bed was made for him, his laundry was done, and he got food. For him, it felt like a safe haven, which I understand. He ended up living there longer than I did. I had three ‘full’ Asian cousins who spoke Mandarin, while I only spoke it a little. I was last in line; my brother came first, then the three cousins, and then me. He was allowed to play outside longer, while I was only allowed out once a week. He was allowed to do many things that I was forbidden to do. I also noticed a stark difference in the reactions to our achievements. If I got a perfect grade, my grandparents would say that it was just good, but if my brother did the same, the whole family had to know about it. As a young child, this felt very unfair.”
“Despite our clashes, I was raised to respect my elders. Our bond is much stronger now, and I still go out to eat with them in Eindhoven every week. Last year, my grandfather had a stroke, so he isn’t doing well now. Soon, we’re going to Taiwan together for a month, and I suspect it may be his last visit. I really want to go on this trip with him. My Mandarin has improved, and because there’s more physical distance between us, our relationship has also improved. I’ve written many letters—translated by my cousin—to express my gratitude to him.”
Whenever Loah tried to contact her mother, she’d rarely answer the phone or come by to visit her. “My grandparents were also very angry and often called her a bad mother, which hurt me a lot. They also said things about my father. Those negative comments had a big impact on me. The contact with my mother was inconsistent, and I haven’t had any contact with her since 2004.”
Currently, Loah also has little contact with her father. “In the moments he should’ve been there for me, he wasn’t. He’d come around once a year. Occasionally, he’d take us to the Efteling, but those were rare outings. When I visited him or he came to see me, he’d often ask if I needed anything or would give me money. This felt so materialistic and superficial. What I really needed was an emotional connection, but he couldn’t offer that. His current girlfriend is from China and dislikes him having contact with us because we’re from a different woman. Every Time I sought contact with him, my father and his current girlfriend would have arguments. That makes it even harder to build a relationship with him and I don’t get the opportunity at all to develop a connection with my younger half-brother.”
“No, I didn’t have any Asian friends around me. My brother and I went through everything together, but we also had countless arguments. Eventually, I grew up and realised that we needed each other.
He seemed to often avoid heavy conversations and projected his feelings onto others, not realising that he’s hurting them. I assumed he acted this way because of our past; I think he’s built a wall around himself. I also tried to talk about my struggles with my family, but I noticed that my family doesn’t talk about emotions in general, which made it hard for me to share my emotions. The painful things are often avoided, it’s difficult to accept them. In the end, I did find strength and support from my friends.
In Eindhoven, I didn’t really have Asian friends, but when I moved to Rotterdam, I befriended someone whose parents are from Hong Kong. We met during the pandemic and started talking a lot. We do fun things together and know each other’s families. Through her, I discovered that I wasn’t alone in my struggles and experiences. I became more aware of the culture clash that was prominent throughout my childhood and that I see today. It was nice that she could understand me and had similar experiences.”
In the past, Loah had a need to escape her emotions quickly. She found distraction in gaming or going outside. Only in her teenage years did she start to realise what she had been through, and during high school, she realised that she didn’t have parents she could rely on. This realisation led her to seek help, and she began talking to a psychologist. Unfortunately, she didn’t feel supported; she had a white Dutch psychologist who couldn’t understand what she was going through.
“In the past four to five years, I’ve found help that meets my needs much better. I found out that I didn’t have PTSD but was actually dealing with Borderline Personality Disorder and Avoidant Personality Disorder. Sometimes, I get EMDR therapy, which helps me process my past better.
Abandonment anxiety is a core issue for me and often surfaces in my relationships, whether at work or with friends. I’m constantly afraid of being seen as inferior. When someone else is chosen, I can feel extremely lonely and feel like I’m unwanted. This fear has had a profound impact on my self-confidence. Seeking help was crucial; it was a start to not only understand my past but also to shape my future.”
Loah is proud of the steps she’s taken: “I’m still here, despite the suicidal thoughts I’ve had. I used to think those thoughts shouldn’t be there, but now I know that they are allowed to be there.”
Loah’s journey towards finding help began with a mental health nurse in her general practitioner’s office. Later she found Carmen, a psychologist who significantly impacted her life. “Carmen was the best psychologist I’ve ever had, even if she couldn’t solve all of my issues.” Loah says. Later, she found an Argentine psychologist who understood her even better.
“You have to take an active role in your recovery. Awareness is key, and you achieve it through training and exercises. It’s essential to understand where your emotions stem from: ‘Why am I angry? Why am I sad?’ In my daily life, I have to learn to apply these questions until it becomes second nature. My past often makes me feel on edge, which affects my sleep as well. Asking questions like ‘why?’ and ‘why not?’ has helped me let things go. It’s not just about therapy but also about how I can apply these lessons in my everyday life.”
“I write a lot, and I volunteer at VluchtelingenWerk Nederland [Dutch NGO for refugees]. It’s taught me to show compassion.” Loah notices that many young people have also experienced abuse, and that by sharing her story, she can help others. Sometimes, she meets up with an Afghan buddy and her sister. “We get tickets for museums, go bowling, or visit an Afghan restaurant. Once we cooked a traditional meal together for twenty people. I love food, and it makes me feel at home.”
“People around me tell me I’m strong, and that I need to start seeing myself that way. It’s not enough for others to say it; you have to feel it yourself too.” Despite everything, Loah finds it essential to acknowledge what she’s been through. “I find it unfortunate what happened, but I’m also very proud of myself and grateful to my grandparents.”
“I’m determined to move to Taiwan; the Netherlands is not my final destination. Additionally, I aim to work for the Red Cross abroad. Since 2017, I’ve been involved in the voguing scene, and last year, I discovered the ballroom scene in Taiwan. There, I have found a wonderful community that I can rely on. When I return to Taiwan next month, I’m going to take Old Way classes again. After emigrating, I hope to teach dance classes there. I also play a lot of horror games and enjoy the community’s cosy atmosphere.”
“On an Instagram post from Asian Raisins, several psychologists responded; take a look at that. I did, and I’ll soon have some sessions with someone. I encourage everyone to keep looking for help; I’ve spoken with eight psychologists myself, and not every psychologist will suit you. Keep going and talk to someone you trust. It’s important to be open, especially within Asian cultures. Emotions are often kept inside, but it’s proven that talking helps. Write about it, listen to music, or make music yourself. Don’t be afraid, and don’t feel ashamed.”
Do you need more information about mental health? MIND Korrelatie offers advice, support, and information to people with (early) psychological complaints and their loved ones. Do you or someone you know have suicidal thoughts? Stichting 113 Zelfmoordpreventie is the national organization for suicide prevention. Call 0800-0113 for free or chat with them.
Do you need help or information about cultural adoption? InterCountry Adoptee Voices can assist you.
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