Dr Sherrie Lee | Tag: professional identity

“You’ll never please everyone. So who are you really choosing to be?”

After living away from my home country for more than 10 years, I still struggle to answer one simple question: who am I?

It’s not that I lack a label. I call myself an ‘international professional’ – a term that sounds respectable enough. ‘International’ suggests movement across borders. ‘Professional’ implies accumulated knowledge and expertise. But this convenient shorthand still falls short of capturing who I really am.

As a career coach working with international professionals, I see this struggle everywhere. In networking events. In job interviews. In LinkedIn profiles that somehow all sound the same. We’ve learned to package ourselves neatly into expected categories – the ambitious expat, the global nomad, the third culture kid. But these labels often feel hollow because they don’t capture our actual experiences or what truly drives us.

The truth is, being able to articulate who you are matters. Potential employers want to understand your story. Collaborators need to know what you bring beyond credentials. Your professional network connects with you because of shared values and experiences, not just shared industries.

Yet so often, we default to stereotypes or generic descriptions that don’t distinguish us from anyone else.

The Challenge of Self-Definition

So how do you break free from generic labels and articulate who you really are?

I’ve considered the usual options, and none quite work.

Why Common Labels Don’t Fit

Citizen of the world? Too easy, too cheap, and hollow in every practical sense. You are really only a citizen of one country, maybe two if that’s allowed. Citizenship carries the heavy responsibility of representation, belonging, and defending the country’s honour. How can I possibly do that for the world when it is hard enough to do it justice for my own country?

Personal demographics? I could list my age, gender, ethnicity, and my multiple roles as mother, wife, worker and community volunteer. But I don’t feel like exposing my personal life to a wide faceless readership. There’s little chance of meaningful dialogue in the internet sphere of partial fleeting attention.

Professional credentials? I could dig deep into what I do and the value I bring. After all, isn’t that what we do on LinkedIn? We position ourselves as an authority on X, with sure-fire strategies for Y, and crystal ball gazing into the future of Z. But I hear the dissenting voice: oh no, not another cringy self-promotional humble brag!

Confessional authenticity? Maybe I ditch being professional and go confessional. I could reveal my deepest fears, my latest desires, my 2025 bucket list. Would this be the authentic voice that people want to hear? Or just a higher level of cringe for the naysayers?

AI-generated image of an elderly father and young son riding a donkey.

The Father, Son, and Donkey Parable

I’m reminded of the story of the father, his son, and a donkey. They tried every way to travel well, but couldn’t win.

At first, the father rode while the son walked. Bystanders chided the father for letting his young son walk. Then the son rode while the father walked. Now the criticism targeted the son for letting his elderly father walk. Then both rode the donkey together. But the outcry was about cruelty – how could they make the donkey bear the weight of two people? Finally, father and son carried the donkey on their backs. All they heard was laughter and derision.

The moral? You will never please all audiences. So do what you believe is sensible and within your own moral conscience, instead of responding to every possible criticism.

My Story: A Different Kind of International

Applying this moral, who am I beyond the label of ‘international professional’?

I’ll answer with a story.

Growing Up in Singapore

I am from Singapore. I grew up in systems based on meritocracy and competition, shaped by cultural notions of generational respect and family pride.

My peers and I were always trying to go ‘international’ – for culture, education, and lifestyle. But it was a ‘western’ kind of international, with specific countries in mind, ranked in order of preference. This particular form of being international was prestigious, desirable, and an investment for future advancement.

As the internet opened up the world in new ways – connecting us to information, opportunities, and people beyond our borders – going international shifted from dream to possibility. We could see what was out there. We could imagine ourselves in those places. The world felt within reach in a way it hadn’t for previous generations.

But while international-oriented people zigged, I zagged. I wasn’t craving a specific kind of international label or a fast-tracked pathway to success. I wanted to explore ideas that mattered to me and find my own kind of international.

My First International Experience: Canada

My first experience of being international was as an exchange student at Simon Fraser University in Burnaby, just outside Vancouver.

It was also my first experience of snow. It was supposed to be magical. It turned out to be a slushy, sneaker-soaked disappointment I will never forget.

But thank goodness that experience didn’t define my international journey. My dormitory was truly international – local Canadians, international and exchange students from various Asian and European countries. I had eye-opening interactions for my 21-year-old self who had lived a fairly sheltered life in conservative Singapore.

The moments I remembered: Being told off by my Swiss dorm mate for having the radio on too loud at 7 am. (I was playing classical music at what I thought was a reasonable low volume.) Being clueless about putting a paper plate in the oven and nearly burning down the kitchen. Observing a standoff between my Chinese dorm mate cleaning a fish in the shared kitchen sink and the Swiss making remarks in accented English which my Chinese friend either didn’t catch or couldn’t care less about.

I remember squeezing into a car driven by Chinese Jeff who had a broken side window taped up with cardboard. Canadian Bob wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. I kept asking annoying questions: Is this okay? Is it legal? Am I allowed to sit in the middle? All the way to the cinema to watch Good Will Hunting.

I really lapped up the ‘go for it’ attitude of the Canada I experienced then. It was liberating to just try things out and not worry about what others would think. Being international felt like I could be free to explore who I wanted to be!

The Mountain Climb That Changed Everything

The deepest memory I have was going on a mountain climb at the start of Spring.

Weather was great, they said. Won’t you come along? Winter and slushy snow were things of the past. I was no fitness buff but had gotten used to walking around the nearby hills. So I thought, sure, what’s not to like about a mountain climb with friends?

On the day of the hike, I came prepared in my own way. Jeans and track shoes. Umbrella, water bottle, beanie and gloves in backpack.

Of course, everyone else wore appropriate hiking gear. I was the only one in jeans. What did I know about proper hiking clothes? Not much really.

My ignorance became my downfall just a couple of hours in. It was getting difficult to move in jeans. Then it started to rain. Out came my umbrella, which became more burden than help when navigating rocky terrain. I was slowing down as others leaped ahead. Then it started to snow. I could barely make out where the rest of the group was.

My beanie and gloves came in handy at least. But my track shoes were thoroughly soaked and my feet were icy cold. Two guys stayed with me to make sure I kept moving – one behind me, one ahead. The snow was getting heavier. There was no way but up.

I felt like a total fool for thinking the Canadian gung-ho spirit was all I needed for a mountain hike. I felt I was going to die. I was tired, unfit, and miserable about the weather, my incompetence, and totally overwhelmed by the challenge.

But I had two cheerleaders, one from behind and one in front. I somehow managed to inch my way up to the top.

The rest of the group was there, waiting for me. We even took a photo of our victory pose.

Author’s photo: Grouse Mountain, Vancouver (date withheld)

What Being International Really Means

That was the defining experience for me about being international. Exploring a new country and culture. Being unprepared but doing it anyway. Having cross-cultural friendships through shared and meaningful experiences.

It was a brief four months. Over time I’ve lost touch with all these wonderful friends. But those experiences sealed in me this desire to be international and the very real notion that what doesn’t kill you will only make you stronger.

This wasn’t just a memorable trip. It was my inciting incident – the moment that shaped my values, my approach to challenges, and what I look for in my professional life. It taught me that being international isn’t about prestige or following a prescribed path. It’s about the willingness to be uncomfortable, to rely on others, and to push through when you feel unprepared.

My Answer: Identity Through Story

So who am I?

An international professional who is motivated by the ability to explore freely and be part of a multi-cultural environment of shared and meaningful experiences.

I had to say that through a story. A sentence or two would just be a string of context-less words.

When people ask me now – in interviews, at conferences, in coaching conversations – I don’t just list my credentials. I tell them about standing in the snow on that mountain, feeling utterly out of my depth, and making it to the top anyway. That story tells them more about who I am and how I work than any resume bullet point ever could.

Your Turn: What’s Your Defining Moment?

As international professionals, we all have these moments. The experiences that shape who we are and why we do what we do. But many of us have never taken the time to identify them or articulate why they matter.

So here’s my challenge to you:

Think back to your own inciting incident. What was the defining moment or experience that shaped who you are as an international professional? Not the expected milestones – your first degree, your first job, your first promotion. But the moment that revealed something fundamental about your values, your resilience, or what truly motivates you.

Maybe it was a moment of cultural misunderstanding that taught you empathy. A professional setback that redirected your path. A conversation that changed how you saw yourself. An unexpected friendship that expanded your worldview.

Take time to reflect on it. What made it significant? What did you learn about yourself? How does it connect to who you are today and what you’re trying to build in your career?

Then practice articulating it. Not as a rehearsed elevator pitch, but as a genuine story that helps others understand what drives you. This is how you move beyond generic labels and stereotypes. This is how you show people who you really are.

Because here’s what I’ve learned through years of coaching international professionals: The ones who can articulate their story with clarity and authenticity are the ones who build meaningful careers and connections. They’re the ones who find opportunities that truly fit them, rather than just chasing what looks prestigious.

But now that you know my backstory, I can leave you with just a few more words:

Carpe diem. Seize the day. Make your lives extraordinary. Be your own kind of international.

Dr Sherrie Lee is a Certified Career Services Provider™ and career coach specialising in cross-cultural career transitions. With a PhD in Education focusing on cultural networking practices and over 10 years of facilitation, training and coaching experience, she helps international professionals build authentic networks and thrive in new work cultures. Learn more about Dr Sherrie Lee and book a free no-obligation 20-min call to find out how career coaching can help you.

People whose networks span structural holes have early access to diverse, often contradictory, information and interpretations, which gives them a competitive advantage in seeing good ideas. To be sure, ideas come over a variety of paths from a variety of sources …, but idea generation at some point involves someone moving knowledge from this group to that, or combining bits of knowledge across groups.
Ronald S. Burt, “Structural Holes and Good Ideas,” American Journal of Sociology 110, no. 2 (September 2004): 356. https://doi.org/10.1086/421787

The quote comes from American sociologist Ronald Burt who is well known for his research on how social networks create competitive advantage in careers, organisations, and markets. Burt’s concept of ‘structural holes’ derives from the broader concept of brokerage in social network theory. Brokerage or brokering refer to individuals (ie brokers) who provide access to information, knowledge, and resources that others would otherwise find difficult to obtain.

My recent PhD research on advice-seeking (brokering) practices of first year international students used similar concepts from social network theory, particularly theories of strong and weak ties, and the dynamics of brokering relationships. My research was in the context of newcomers seeking information and advice from knowledge brokers in a culturally foreign environment. My key takeaways were:
– strong ties were often with peers with similar cultural backgrounds
– weak ties were more socially/physically distant but led to information that strong ties did not have
– peer relations were more accessible than non-peer relations.

Social network theory in action

Translating my findings to my work context of the public sector, I see similar patterns of behaviour in my role as an operational policy advisor. The culturally foreign environment in this case is the unfamiliarity or ambiguity of issues that come through my inbox. Notwithstanding my relative brief time with my organisation, being able to tackle issues often requires different areas of expertise. No one person has the full picture, and often the solution is reached through iterative discussions.

Turning to myself as a case study, I present some observations of how social network theory plays out in my work of gathering information. In the current situation of quickly evolving scenarios related to the lockdown, the complexity of issues are heightened, demand for advice has tighter deadlines, and access to the right brokers at the right time become crucial to timely solutions.

Recently I had to gather information about a policy issue that required information from different agencies. Under ordinary circumstances, I would look to immediate colleagues for quick leads (which typically involved walking over to someone’s desk to ask a quick question), and use their established connections to get to contacts at other organisations.

With remote working, gone were the incidental and casual conversations and serendipitous kitchen chats. The pressure of tight deadlines forced me to head straight for the most likely useful colleague. Thankfully, this was someone whom I had forged a good working relationship with over coffee chats, in other words, a strong tie.

Some advice and one contact later, however, I faced a roadblock. I then found myself turning to my cross-agency network of peers whom I worked with on various groups and projects. These were my weak ties – those who I interacted with much less frequently than workplace colleagues, but whose positions in other agencies opened up channels beyond my immediate reach. They were able to field my query further than I could on my own and in a much shorter time.

At the same time, these weak ties had the advantage of being peer relations. I find it difficult to make cold calls to designated senior level experts and managers – hierarchy doesn’t flatten easily when you haven’t had a few coffees. But I found it easy to reach out to my cross-agency peers – we had ongoing work projects, often helped each other with requests, and perhaps we shared an implicit bond of doing the work of brokering – plugging the knowledge gaps and giving the best advice we possibly can.

Policy advising as social network theory

My information seeking behaviour as a policy advisor can be summed up in Burt’s words: ‘… idea generation at some point involves someone moving knowledge from this group to that, or combining bits of knowledge across groups’. Generating good ideas and sound advice would not be possible without tapping on strong ties with workplace colleagues, weak ties with sector wide peers, and cultivating reciprocal relationships with like-minded public servants.

Perhaps policy advising could be reframed as maximising the opportunities presented by structural holes. Using our networks generates more leads and different perspectives. Growing our networks will be the gift that keeps on giving. How else can we solve the wicked problems of our day?