I immigrated to the United States from the Philippines at the age of seven. As I began to acculturate into American culture, I realized I was navigating two distinct worldviews: collectivism and individualism. Acculturation—the process of adapting to a new culture—can take many forms. The strategy I used was integration, which involves maintaining one’s original culture while adopting elements of the new one.
I'd like first to explain the difference between collectivism and individualism to provide context for how this tension became a source of acculturative stress.
Collectivism, common in many Asian cultures, emphasizes the needs of the family and community over those of the individual. In collectivist cultures, traits such as being dependable, self-sacrificing, generous, and helpful to others are highly valued. Individualism, more prevalent in Western cultures, encourages individuals to forge their path and prioritize their interests. In these cultures, traits such as self-reliance, independence, assertiveness, and self-sufficiency are fostered.
When adapting to a new culture becomes overwhelming, it can lead to acculturative stress, especially for those from immigrant families. This stress often surfaces as strain in relationships, feelings of guilt or resentment, particularly when trying to assert boundaries. Among other Asian Americans, a common topic of discussion is, “Why do I feel guilty when I want to be honest with my family?” Many of us point to our collectivist upbringing as the root cause. But what if this tension isn’t solely about collectivism versus individualism? What if it's actually about the nature of our
relationships—specifically, whether they are interdependent or codependent/enmeshed?
In interdependent relationships, each person’s unique identity is respected. These relationships recognize individual strengths and areas for growth that complement the connection. People in
interdependent relationships rely on each other while still maintaining their own autonomy. In contrast, codependent or enmeshed relationships lack clear boundaries; the distinction between where one person ends and another begins becomes blurred.
Growing up in a collectivist culture, it’s easy to overlook the importance of self-differentiation—the ability to maintain a clear sense of self even in emotionally close relationships. You might hear someone say, “Because that’s what my parents want me to do…” or “If I don’t do what’s expected of me, I won’t be welcomed or invited.” There is a survival instinct at play—the desire to stay connected to one’s “tribe” or “herd.” Family can often feel like the only tie to one’s culture, making the idea of asserting boundaries or expressing personal needs feel almost impossible. The fear of being ostracized—or even disowned—can loom large.
But when your mental health begins to suffer, wouldn’t it be time to consider asserting your boundaries and communicating your needs? Feelings of guilt and resentment can be essential signals—warning lights indicating a potential misalignment of values around respect and honesty in the relationship. This misalignment may not be solely about acculturative stress.
So, first, start by understanding your boundaries—they’re key to healthy emotional detachment. Boundaries have two parts: defining boundaries (your “why” based on values) and protective boundaries (your “how,” the actions you take to honor those values).
Healthy boundaries are essential for emotional independence. They aren’t walls, but gates that protect your emotional, mental, and physical well-being. They help you distinguish your needs from others’ and allow you to interact authentically and peacefully.
To set boundaries, look inward. Ask: What do I need to feel balanced? Where am I overextending myself? Many people struggle here due to habits of people-pleasing or fear of conflict. But actual boundaries come from self-awareness and self-worth.
Feeling drained or taken advantage of is often a sign that your boundaries need to be strengthened. These feelings are inner cues to reevaluate and reset. Boundaries allow you to give from a place of choice, not obligation, and create space for compassion without sacrificing yourself.
They also provide emotional distance, protecting your peace and helping you stay centered in chaotic situations. This space allows you to observe your emotions without being consumed by them.
Clear, kind communication is crucial. It may feel uncomfortable at first, especially if others are used to your constant availability. But expressing your limits honestly—without guilt—builds respect. Those who genuinely care will adapt; those who don’t reveal their limitations.
Boundaries aren’t selfish; they are a means to respect your need for autonomy. They foster more genuine, respectful connections by preventing resentment and allowing you to give and receive with intention.
Boundary-setting is a continuous practice. You may slip back into old patterns, but each time you reinforce a boundary, you build self-respect. Over time, boundaries become second nature—a reflection of your self-worth and a declaration that your time, energy, and well-being truly matter.
In some situations, setting boundaries can be too simplistic, and you may have already tried setting boundaries. In these cases, it is worth talking to a therapist or considering the option of limited contact with family or even the option of no contact (usually a last resort option and in abusive situations, a strong option).