The Beginning: A Life Between Two Worlds

As I shared on my About page, ‘Yip’ means leaf in Chinese, and it inspired the name of The Mandarin Leaf. When I first moved to the Netherlands, I never realized just how important keeping my culture and heritage would be to me. I thought I might fully adapt to life here, but adapting hasn’t been easy. And indeed, I’ve learned, embraced, and blended into Dutch culture. Yet, living in both worlds has also created something new: a life that is part Dutch, part Malaysian — a unique space in between.

In navigating this in-between space, I’ve realized that we are creating a new culture of our own. Our family is shaping something unique. From the languages we speak at home, to the meals we prepare, to the traditions we keep or adapt, we are crafting a way of living that feels authentic to us.

For a bicultural family, this also means honoring each other’s cultures while letting go of what doesn’t serve us. It’s not about one side dominating while the other gives up their language or heritage. Moving away from one’s country shouldn’t mean leaving everything behind. Instead, it’s about weaving two heritages together with care, so both can flourish.

It is not always easy, but the beauty of this hybrid identity is undeniable — a quiet reflection of our family’s story, flourishing in our everyday lives.
It’s in this space that I’ve come to see how vital it is to pass on the torch to the next generation. My heart remains deeply connected to my roots, and I want my children to feel that connection too. Heritage can fade over time, especially for children growing up between cultures. If I can give them a solid foundation, I hope they will carry parts of our heritage with them — no matter where life takes them.

The Challenge: Feeling the Tug of Distance

Living in the Netherlands, I quickly realized that finding a community of like-minded, Mandarin-speaking families wasn’t easy. I felt the tug of distance — from family, from my cultural roots, and from the language I wanted my children to grow up with. I reached out to some local families and put myself out there, hoping to build connections. While many were polite and friendly, I often encountered subtle rejections — invitations faded, playdates didn’t continue, or connections didn’t develop.

Coming from a more collective, family-oriented culture, I was used to mutual support and shared responsibilities, so navigating the individualism and strong personal boundaries common in adult social life here was challenging. Even within families, support can be limited, and I often felt the quiet ache of being on the outside. These experiences strengthened my resolve to create my own supportive village.

Joy in the Small Moments

Even amid these challenges, there are moments of pure joy that remind me why this work matters. One of the most heartwarming experiences is hearing my daughter sing Chinese songs — the very same ones I grew up with in Malaysia. It’s a simple but powerful reminder of the roots I want her to feel connected to, and of the culture and language that carry our family stories.

Motivation Born from Deeper Struggle

Beyond cultural distance, I’ve gone through some of the darkest periods of motherhood, carrying the weight of challenges without the support I longed for — like running a marathon barefoot, with two backpacks on my back, and no one cheering along the way. Those experiences were hard, but they sparked a determination in me: to create something meaningful, a space where families can feel truly seen, supported, and connected.

Growing The Mandarin Leaf

That longing became the seed for The Mandarin Leaf. A leaf may be small and delicate, but it carries life and connection. Even far from home, we can grow our own little village — one family, one story, one shared experience at a time. My hope is to create spaces where heritage is alive, where language and culture are not just taught but lived and passed down naturally.

This is why I started The Tangerine Circle, our playful Mandarin-speaking community. It’s not just a playgroup — it’s a place where children can feel at home in their language, where parents can find support, share joys, and sometimes, simply exhale. Because raising children between cultures can feel lonely, even overwhelming. But together, we can grow a village, where every leaf matters and every story belongs.

Invitation to Join

If you’ve ever felt the quiet ache of raising children between cultures, or the longing to share your heritage in a meaningful way, I invite you to take the first step with us. Come as you are — with your stories, your questions, and your little ones in tow. Together, we can nurture a village where laughter, language, and belonging flourish. Because every leaf deserves to be seen, and every family deserves a place to call home.

The Tangerine Circle is a Mandarin-speaking community, created for families who want their children to grow up with the language woven into daily life. At the same time, I know that many families — whether Mandarin-speaking or not — share the same longing for connection and support. My hope is that The Mandarin Leaf can be a welcoming space where these stories resonate, and where bicultural families of many backgrounds can feel less alone on this journey.