Can You Feel Safe Being Yourself? How Culture Shapes What We Are Allowed to Feel

Dr Tiffany Leung
Nov 4
11 min read

Crying, Anger, and Shame — How Cultural Norms Impact our Emotional Expressions

llustration of emotional expression across cultures and therapy. — **The Hidden Cultural Rules Around Emotion**

Introduction

“I do not know what to do with my tears. I guess in my family, crying has always been seen as a weakness.” — A client's sharing

The words above reflect an unspoken truth many of us share, that emotional safety is not something we are born knowing. It is something our cultures teach, shape, and sometimes limit.

Often without realising, we learn how to express or hide our emotions based on what our environments teach us. This is what psychologists mean when we say that culture shapes emotion.

Research has found, for example, that in Japan people often maintain a polite smile even when they feel sadness: this suggests the Japanese may have commonly used smile as a way of preserving social harmony. In contrast, Italian culture tends to encourage more direct and expressive emotional communication. Each culture carries its own expectations about what is acceptable to feel, and how those feelings should be shown.

Culture teaches us which emotions are safe to express. Yet these social rules are not always aligned with our inner truth. What happens when those rules collide with how we really feel?

What if we experience anger, grief, or vulnerability, and though the world around us signals that we should remain composed?

In therapy, I once worked with Ming, a Chinese client who realised she had never learned how to express anger at home. Anger was almost absent from her emotional vocabulary. Growing up, she witnessed her parents’ distress and believed that being a “good daughter” meant prioritising their needs over her own. Over time, she locked away her longing for care and validation. Through therapy, she began to gently unpack the frustration and pain of not being seen. (This is a composite example drawn from common therapy themes.)

This post will invite you to pause for a moment, and think about your own cultural rules. Were there emotions that felt acceptable to show, and others that were quietly discouraged? What messages did you receive about sadness, anger, or joy?

We will explore how cultural norms shape emotional expression, and how therapy can become a space for unlearning, safety, and reframing.

How Culture Teaches Us to Feel

Psychologists such as Paul Ekman have long suggested that certain emotions: joy, sadness, anger, fear, surprise, disgust, and contempt are universal. Yet how we express these emotions depends on what our culture teaches us. These “display rules” act like emotional guidelines, shaping when and how it feels safe to show what we feel.

From early on, we learn these emotional rules through our families and social environments. Some are spoken, but many are silent. Sons may be encouraged to “stay strong” or hide their tears, while daughters might be allowed to cry but discouraged from showing anger. Such patterns communicate what is acceptable to feel, and what should be restrained. Across time, they influence which emotions feel safe to express — and which become hidden or muted.

Building on this, cross-cultural psychologists like Geert Hofstede (1980) and Hazel Markus & Shinobu Kitayama (1991) describe two broad tendencies in how societies shape emotion: collectivist and individualist orientations. Collectivist cultures emphasise belonging, family harmony, and interdependence, while individualist cultures value autonomy, directness, and self-expression.

In collectivist settings, people often learn messages such as “we need harmony at home” or “do not make trouble.” Disagreement or emotional intensity can be seen as disruptive, especially toward elders or authority figures. Gradually, this can teach individuals to keep peace by suppressing strong feelings. In more individualistic cultures, people are encouraged to “speak their truth.” Yet this too can create pressure: the belief that we must always be confident, expressive, or emotionally articulate, even when we do not feel ready.

Each culture carries its own expectations, and what we are allowed to feel. — Each culture carries its own expectations...

When Cultures Collide: Navigating Emotional Confusion

For many who grow up between cultures, bilingual, migrant, or part of a multicultural family, these two systems of values can collide. Psychologists (Berry, 1997) describe this as acculturation stress — the psychological strain that comes from adapting to a new culture while holding onto one’s roots. Many people also experience bicultural identity negotiation (Benet-Martínez, 2012): the ongoing effort to integrate different sets of values, expectations, and ways of being. This is not simply about fitting in, but about learning how to belong in more than one world at once.

Across time, these inner negotiations do not just affect identity; they shape emotion itself. Studies on emotional acculturation (De Leersnyder et al., 2011) show that people gradually begin to express and even feel emotions that fit the culture in which they live. This adaptation can bring both connection and confusion: you may start to sense emotions that make you feel closer to one world, yet more distant from another.

These emotional negotiations can also intersect with other parts of identity, such as gender, age, sexuality, and social roles, and whether those identities are accepted or questioned by the surrounding culture. A young adult raised in a traditional family may find it difficult to express individuality, while someone whose sexuality is less accepted in their community may learn to hide their emotional truth to stay safe. When such expectations collide, they can create a quiet chaos within, a feeling of being emotionally lost, unsure which self is safe to show.

Over time, these experiences may deepen into a sense of emotional unsafety, wondering when it is acceptable to show sadness, or fearing that anger will be misunderstood. Without a clear emotional “anchor,” it can feel difficult to express the self with consistency, or even to know what authentic expression looks like.

You might like to take a moment to reflect:

Were you taught to hold things in, or to speak your truth?
Which emotions felt most “acceptable” to show in your family or community?
How did your gender, age, or social role shape what you learned about being emotional?
And when you notice those rules inside you today; where do they live in your body?

Find emotional balance between two cultures, in families, cultures and this leads to healing.

Cultural Scripts — What Gets Encouraged vs Silenced

Every culture carries a set of emotional scripts, which represent the invisible rules that tell us which feelings are acceptable to show, and which should be kept hidden. These scripts are not written anywhere, yet we begin learning them early in life. Through observation, correction, and imitation, we come to understand what is rewarded and what is discouraged.

As children, we notice subtle cues: the sigh of a parent when we cry too loudly, the approving smile when we stay calm, the silence that follows an expression of anger. Over time, we learn to shape our emotions to fit these social expectations. This process of learning is powerful because it happens beneath awareness. We internalise these messages until they feel like our own truth.

For some, these scripts become woven with experiences of adversity or trauma. A child who grows up in a tense or unsafe environment may learn that showing fear or sadness only invites more distress. To survive, the body learns to shut down those emotions. As psychiatrist Bessel van der Kolk reminds us, “the body keeps the score”: what cannot be expressed through words often stays stored in the body.

When emotional suppression becomes part of a cultural norm, it can shape not only individuals but entire communities.

Many families who have lived through war, migration, or discrimination carry stories of endurance and silence. Emotional restraint becomes a way of coping, a survival script passed down through generations. Over time, this inheritance can also create disconnection and clash between generations. Sometimes, those who directly experienced hardship often carry an unspoken commitment to endurance and silence, while those who grow up in safer but culturally different environments may feel the strain of that silence. They face the tension between the values of home and the expectations of the outer world. This emotional gap can lead to misunderstanding, frustration, and distance within families — what we recognise in psychology as intergenerational trauma.

Across cultures, these scripts look different. For example in some places, stoicism is celebrated as strength; in others, it is seen as emotional distance. In some families, anger is viewed as shameful, while in others, it is recognised as a sign of boundary and self-respect. Silence can be interpreted as politeness, or as fear. These meanings are not fixed; they shift with history, gender, and context.

Recognising our cultural scripts can be deeply healing. It allows us to ask gentle questions:

Which emotional rules did I inherit, and do they still serve me today?
What emotions did my family or community teach me to silence?
How has my body carried the cost of those unspoken rules?

Through reflection and therapy, we can begin to unlearn the scripts that once kept us safe but now keep us disconnected, rewriting them with compassion, awareness, and choice.

If this topic resonates, you may also enjoy reading:

Cultural diversity and emotional safety in therapy

Therapy Is Not Neutral — Why Cultural Safety Matters

Therapy is often seen as a space where we learn to understand and express our emotions, but it is also a culturally shaped practice. Many traditional models of therapy were developed in Western contexts, where individuality, verbal expression, and emotional openness are highly valued. Yet for those from cultures that prize restraint, family harmony, or privacy, “talking about feelings” can feel foreign, uncomfortable, or even unsafe.

This is why therapy is not a neutral space. It is never just a room where one truth or one way of being exists. Every conversation between therapist and client carries two worlds: varied sets of values, languages, and lived experiences. Sometimes these worlds align, and sometimes they do not. There can be moments of difference, misunderstanding, or even silence that feels uncertain. Recognising these differences, and supporting them with openness is the first step toward cultural safety. Therapy is not only about talking. It is about creating the conditions for safety and mutual respect, where both people can be real with one another.

In this kind of space, judgement can be faced without fear, and correction or disagreement can be explored without shame or intimidation. This is what makes therapy healing. When both therapist and client can meet in genuine curiosity rather than assumption, honesty begins to feel possible.

For many clients, this becomes the first place where it feels safe to notice and name what has long been hidden: emotions that once felt too dangerous to express. The therapist, too, is part of this process: another human being who listens, responds, and helps to build a relationship grounded in trust. Over time, this relationship becomes a living experience of safety and openness, a rehearsal for what it can feel like to be fully seen, accepted, and respected.

As trust deepens, the therapist holds a special responsibility: to remain aware of how culture, power, and personal experience shape the space between two people. This is the essence of cultural humility, an attitude of curiosity, reflection, and respect for difference. Rather than assuming that all clients should speak openly or “let go,” the therapist adapts to the client’s rhythm, values, and comfort. For some, the work might begin with language, to find the right words in their mother tongue. For others, it might begin in silence, body awareness, or shared reflection.

Practising cultural humility means recognising that everyone's emotional world has been shaped by different norms, and that healing involves honouring those histories rather than erasing them. Therapy, at its best, becomes a bridge between worlds: a space where emotions can be explored safely, at a pace that feels right, and in a way that aligns with who we are and where we come from.

Supporting Emotionally Safe Expression Across Cultures

Creating emotional safety across cultures is not about applying one technique or model. It is about meeting each person where they are, in their language, in their pace, and within the values that shape their world. Therapy can support this process in several ways.

1. Language matters. Emotions live in words, and words live in culture. Many people find that using their mother tongue in therapy allows feelings to surface more authentically. Sometimes a single word in one language carries a depth that cannot be translated. Naming emotions in familiar language helps reconnect the mind and body, especially when emotional expression has long been silenced.

2. Psychoeducation normalises difference. Learning that emotions vary across cultures can be profoundly relieving. When clients understand that sadness, anger, or withdrawal are shaped by cultural learning, not by personal failure, self-judgement softens. Psychoeducation can help people recognise emotional suppression as a learned survival pattern, not a flaw in who they are.

3. Involving family or community values. For clients from collectivist or interdependent cultures, therapy can feel more congruent when it honours relationships rather than focusing only on the individual. This may include reframing therapy as strengthening family harmony or helping communication. Even when family members are not directly involved, acknowledging their influence can help clients bridge old and new emotional worlds.

4. Reframing needs as strengths. Cultural and personal survival strategies often hold hidden wisdom. A client’s quietness, for example, might have been a way of staying safe in an unpredictable environment. When this is recognised as resilience rather than avoidance, healing can begin from a place of self-respect rather than shame.

Therapy that honours culture does not force expression; it cultivates safety. In this kind of space, emotions are not judged as right or wrong; they are understood as signals of what has been learned, lost, or protected. Over time, the therapeutic relationship helps transform emotional caution into confidence, and self-protection into self-understanding.

Related reading:

emotional expression across therapy and cultures.

Closing: Reclaiming the Right to Feel

We are emotional and social beings, shaped by the worlds we grow up in. Every culture, every family, every generation teaches us certain rules about what it means to feel. Some of these lessons protect us; others quietly confine us. Part of emotional growth is learning to notice which rules still serve us, and which ones we may now have permission to rewrite.

You might take a moment to pause, to breathe and check in with your own emotional world.

What emotions feel safe for you to show?
Who taught you that, and do you still agree with them?
What would it be like to express a part of yourself that has been silent for too long?

In therapy, this process of noticing and re-learning unfolds gently. It is not about rejecting our cultures or families, but about understanding the emotional scripts we have inherited, and choosing with compassion how we wish to carry them forward.

As we begin to approach ourselves with curiosity rather than judgement, we start to rediscover something essential: the quiet strength that comes from feeling safe enough to be fully ourselves.

Many of my clients describe feeling emotionally stuck: unable to cry, afraid of showing anger, or unsure how to talk about feelings that do not fit the expectations of their family or culture. Some carry guilt for focusing on themselves, or shame about seeking therapy at all, fearing it might seem too “sophisticated”. Over the years, I have seen how therapy can help people find emotional safety when the space truly honours culture, context, and difference.

If you have resonated with these reflections, perhaps feeling caught between worlds, uncertain how to express emotion, or curious about what safety might mean for you, therapy can be a gentle place to begin.

I offer a reflective, trauma-informed, and culturally responsive approach that helps clients explore their emotions safely and at their own pace. You can learn more about starting therapy or read about culturally adaptive therapy to understand how culture shapes emotional wellbeing.

If you feel ready, you are warmly welcome to book a consultation and take the next step toward understanding your emotions, and yourself more deeply.

References:

Core Cultural & Emotional Theory

Ekman, P. (1992). An argument for basic emotions. Cognition & Emotion, 6(3–4), 169–200.
Hofstede, G. (1980). Culture’s consequences: International differences in work-related values. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage.
Markus, H. R., & Kitayama, S. (1991). Culture and the self: Implications for cognition, emotion, and motivation. Psychological Review, 98(2), 224–253.
Berry, J. W. (1997). Immigration, acculturation, and adaptation. Applied Psychology, 46(1), 5–34.
Benet-Martínez, V. (2012). Bicultural identity integration: Components and psychosocial antecedents. In V. Benet-Martínez & Y. Hong (Eds.), The Oxford handbook of multicultural identity (pp. 285–312). Oxford University Press.
De Leersnyder, J., Mesquita, B., & Kim, H. S. (2011). Where do my emotions belong? A study of immigrants’ emotional acculturation. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 37(4), 451–463.

Trauma and Therapeutic Practice

van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Mind, brain and body in the transformation of trauma. New York: Viking.
Sue, D. W., & Sue, D. (2016). Counseling the culturally diverse: Theory and practice (7th ed.). Hoboken, NJ: Wiley.
Papps, E., & Ramsden, I. (1996). Cultural safety in nursing: The New Zealand experience. International Journal for Quality in Health Care, 8(5), 491–497.