Choosing Taipei Over New York: A Career and Life Shift

At 26, I found myself living in the heart of New York City, having just secured a journalism role. My boyfriend Ron, a fellow graduate from Columbia Journalism School, and I were surviving on entry-level wages. In 2006, our days were filled with adventures across the diverse boroughs of the city.

Then, a phone call from Ron changed everything. He informed me that his financial situation was precarious, but he'd been offered a job in Taipei. He intended to move within a month and proposed that I join him there, hoping it would be the start of our life together as a married couple.

His unexpected proposal left me deep in thought. Unlike me, with my Taiwanese American background, Ron's ancestry traced back to Europe. Yet, he had spent significantly more time in Taiwan than I had.

Ron had furthered his education at Georgetown, focusing on international relations, and had relocated to Taiwan for advanced Mandarin studies, eventually becoming a journalist there. Meanwhile, I hadn't visited Taiwan since I was a child, a trip made with my family for a reunion.

Confronting My Cultural Identity

My lack of Mandarin fluency weighed heavily on me. While Ron spoke the language with ease, I struggled to form basic phrases. My parents hadn't prioritized teaching us Mandarin, explaining that when they migrated in the 1970s, this language wasn't seen as essential in the U.S.

Though I didn't often dwell on not speaking my ancestral language, occasionally I felt the void. Born and raised in the United States, in a Taiwanese American community near San Francisco, I identified as American. The thought of embracing my Taiwanese roots prompted me to seek a scholarship from Taiwan to study Mandarin.

Breaking the news of my decision to my parents stunned them. I convinced them that mastering Mandarin would unlock new professional avenues for me and deepen my connection to our heritage.

The Immigrant's Journey

Eagerly, I moved in 2007, scholarship in hand. However, I was unprepared for the adjustment. Accustomed to vibrant interactions in New York, I felt shy and subdued in Taipei, aware of my flawed speech.

Looking Taiwanese but not speaking it fluently often drew criticism. It was frustrating to hear comments on why my parents hadn't taught me Mandarin, knowing the complexities of navigating life as immigrants. Despite rigorous language practice, I felt silenced.

Building a New Life

In Taiwan, my experiences led to rediscovering family ties. A neighbor recognized me as the granddaughter of her former classmate, forming a bond that brought stories of my forebearers.

Taipei's affordable living, efficient public transit, and healthcare allowed us to enjoy and save, despite limited incomes. Safety and independence pulled me deeper into Taipei's charm, leading to our marriage celebrated in both San Francisco and Taipei.

Improved language proficiency boosted my confidence, landing me a role with the Taipei Times, later shifting to TechCrunch to explore Asian businesses.

Facing health concerns, Taiwan's medical system reassured us as we became parents. Watching our daughter grow bilingual filled me with pride.

A Foot in Both Worlds

After nearly two decades, questions persist about returning to the U.S. I recall fondly both countries—the American parks and trails, and the history-filled neighborhoods of Taipei.

My identity remains complex—culturally American with a noticeable Mandarin accent, dual citizenship creating a sense of in-betweenness. Yet, the life I've built here roots me in Taipei, a place I've made home.