Estimated read time: 4 minutes
I’m so happy you’re here.
My name is Roze, and I’m a second-generation Filipina who grew up in Australia. Born in Sydney and raised in Brisbane from the age of 12.
I’ve always felt caught between two cultures - Australia and the Philippines.
In high school, most of the girls around me had blonde hair and blue eyes. And when I did meet another Filipina, she was usually half-Aussie.
I still remember one interaction from my first job at a women’s fashion store. A customer was visibly surprised by my Aussie accent - as if meeting an Australian-born Asian was something completely unfamiliar to him. It was a moment that stuck with me.
Even during our regular visits to the Philippines, I didn’t always feel like I truly belonged. I looked Filipina, but I didn’t speak Tagalog fluently. In Australia, my tan skin was admired. But in the Philippines, fairer skin was seen as more desirable. My parents would say, “We’re going back home,” but for me, it never fully felt like home. And yet, neither did Australia.
This sense of duality - of living between two worlds - shaped much of my upbringing. Over time though, I’ve come to appreciate the beauty in holding both identities.
In Sydney, I was lucky to grow up surrounded by a close-knit Filipino community. My mum was involved in her local church. My dad played in a Filipino tennis club. And we had family - second cousins and titos and titas - living nearby. My parents had their barkada (Tagalog for a tight group of friends) who had also migrated from the Philippines, and many of their kids were my age.
That community gave me a strong sense of belonging and connection - even if I didn’t fully realise it at the time.
When we moved to Brisbane, I was a teenager navigating a new city, a new school, and an even smaller Filipino community. I didn’t follow the “Filipino prophecy” of becoming a nurse - I studied business instead. That’s where my career journey began. And, as fate would have it, I ended up marrying a Filipino-Australian - just like me.
We visited the Philippines during our first year of marriage, but then life got in the way. Work. Routine. COVID. One year became five, and before I knew it… ten years had passed without a single trip back.
What I didn’t realise then was that something was quietly missing.
It wasn’t until we finally returned in December 2023 that everything changed.