Between Cultures: Growing up Scottish-Taiwanese

When people ask where I’m from, there’s no simple answer. Born to a Scottish dad and a Taiwanese mum, and raised in Qatar, my background is anything but straightforward. Growing up with two very different cultures under one roof—and in a completely different country—was sometimes a puzzle, but i have to say it’s my biggest blessing in life.

 

 

I was born in Kaohsiung, Taiwan, but at four years old, my family moved to Doha, Qatar. I don’t remember much about my early years in Taiwan, but in Doha, I was enrolled in a British school that, oddly enough, felt like the UK—a little slice of Britain in the middle of the desert, with British kids, British teachers, and everything set up to make us feel like we were “back home.”

 

At home, my mother brought Taiwanese culture to life, especially through food. On Chinese New Year, we’d enjoy traditional Taiwanese fried snacks, and now and then, she’d prepare a homemade hot pot. But my favorite moments were when her signature fried rice filled the house with its familiar aroma, grounding me in Taiwan even though we were so far away.

 

My mum wasn’t a typical “tiger” mum, but she instilled in me the values of discipline and respect deeply rooted in Asian culture. She knew how to keep me focused and working hard, but she balanced this with warmth and encouragement. When her “tiger” side did show, it was usually for my benefit.

 

On the other hand, my dad—often away for work—had a more laid-back approach. He was the funny man of the house, the one I went to for laughs or when I wanted a new toy (requests he rarely refused). Yet, he had his own style of discipline: making the bed every morning, eating properly at the table, and always presenting ourselves well. With his military background and service in two wars for Great Britain, he carried a quiet resilience that shaped our family. More than anything, he was proud of his Scottish roots. His stories, traditions, and constant reminders to “go beyond” my dreams taught me that being Scottish was something to be proud of.

 

Not everything was easy, though. Growing up, I often felt out of place. In Doha, the expat life meant we all understood each other to some extent. But even then, I remember feeling embarrassed when my mum packed an Asian lunch box that stood out among the British kids’ sandwiches. I know, crazy, right? Now, I’d love to have that lunch every day, especially with how popular Asian food has become. I also remember feeling ashamed of being part Asian, thinking people didn’t see it as “pretty” compared to the blonde girls in my class.

 

 

When I moved to Spain to live on my own, things got more complicated. I often faced questions like, “Where are you from? Not your parents, but you!” It was confusing and even frustrating to hear comments like, “You’re Taiwanese because you don’t look white,” or “You’re not Asian; you’re too white.” These remarks only made my sense of belonging feel more complicated.

 

The same happened when I moved to Portugal, where I met people whose travels barely extended beyond the southern part of the country.  How could I explain that I was from two different continents and had lived in the Middle East? Being a third-culture kid, I struggled to connect with people who hadn’t shared similar experiences.

 

 

Over time, I’ve come to fully accept that I won’t fit in neatly, not even in my home countries—and that’s okay. Now, I see my uniqueness as something beautiful. Slowly, I’ve found peace in being mixed race and, honestly, I think it’s pretty cool. I’m proud to be both Asian and Scottish. Being “in-between” isn’t a drawback; it’s a strength. There’s something powerful about not fitting neatly into a box, and embracing this has helped me connect with people from all kinds of backgrounds.

 

After all, it’s pretty entertaining when Taiwanese people don’t expect me to speak Chinese—their shocked faces are priceless! It’s like I’m a walking plot twist no one saw coming.

 

In the end, all these pieces—each culture, each memory, each place I’ve called home—are part of who I am. As I navigate life as a third-culture kid, I hope to inspire others who may feel out of place. It’s our differences that make us special, and the world is richer for it. And really, who wouldn’t want a passport full of stamps and a heart full of stories?