Beyond the ordinary

If I had to describe myself with a single image, it would be this:
A rigid black-and-white Siberian cat wearing a pair of glasses, reading a book on the beach. What does that say about me? I’ll leave the interpretation to each of you—because, in a way, we all see different things in the same picture.

 

I was born in Shanghai, a beautiful and vibrant city. To give you a sense of scale, my hometown is about two-thirds the size of Sydney… but with almost the same population as all of Australia. That’s around 4,000 people per square kilometre compared to Australia’s four. In other words, a thousand times denser—and yes, extremely crowded.

 

When I look back on my childhood, one trait I still carry today is my smile. I still smile exactly the way I did when I was little—and so do my parents. As I’m saying this, I can picture their faces clearly. Wherever I go, I carry them with me — they are in my heart, and in my look.

 

I came to Australia out of what I would call the sorrows of youth. In my early twenties, I was a university dropout who felt lost and unsure about my future. Around that time, my cousin—who is like an older sister to me—moved to Melbourne, and it was the first time I seriously learned about Australia. My mum gently suggested I consider studying here. I was longing for a chance to leave—whether it was an escape or an adventure—and despite reading about crocodiles and spiders, I felt drawn to this “lucky country.” I was young and naïve, but looking back, it was the best decision of my life.

 

I spent my first two years in Canberra, which felt like living on Mars with its dramatic temperature changes between day and night. Everything was different from home. The coach bus arrived on a Sunday at 4pm, I stood in Canberra’s city centre and realised there were almost no people around. The sky was impossibly blue. On the way there, I saw a kangaroo hopping up a hill from the coach window — a moment that felt like an initiation or destiny.

I fell in love with this country quickly and naturally. I threw myself into learning local slang: fair dinkum, no worries mate, howyagoin’. For the first time, I felt truly free. I began working and supporting myself financially, which was transformative. Canberra became the place where the magic began—where I made my first friends, found independence, and discovered a new version of myself.

 

From the people I worked with, the egalitarian spirit of Australia grew on me: the belief that no matter who you are, we are all equal. At the time, I worked as a banquet attendant at Parliament House—an experience I treasure even today. I saw Prime Minister Julia Gillard opening doors for men. I helped carry out an elderly woman who fainted moments before Queen Elizabeth II entered the Great Hall to choir music. I stood near giant bodyguards keeping watch while President Obama visited. And yet, through all these grand moments, my supervisors and co-workers remained calm, steady, and professional. That taught me something profound: we are equal—no one is above or below me.

 

I am proud of my decision to come to Australia. Since arriving, I’ve had countless adventures, discovered new passions, and explored new careers. Australia makes me feel that everything is possible—that I can be myself, creative and original, without needing to compare or compete. As long as I’m willing to work hard, I can become whoever I choose to be. I feel deeply blessed to be part of a community and a country that I now call home.

 

And finally, I’m excited to grow into an older version of myself—someone who knows herself better and can navigate social situations with more ease. I look forward to gaining more clarity, more courage, and more calm as I continue this journey.

 

Thank you.