How Your Immigration Story Shapes Belonging in the New Place

Dr. MJ Yang
Aug 17
5 min read

Migration is rarely just a change of geography; it is the beginning of a new chapter that shapes identity, belonging, and motivation.

For some, the decision to immigrate is fueled by a strong vision and intentional effort to overcome barriers. For others, the move may be guided by external circumstances—such as family, relationships, or conditions in their home country (e.g., war, safety concerns, economic hardship...etc.) —rather than personal choice.

These differing beginnings can profoundly influence how actively a person engages in adjusting to life in the U.S. and how much energy they bring to navigating its challenges.

This article explores the relationship between these immigration narratives (stories) and the psychological motivation to overcome barriers, using Jungian concepts as a lens to understand the deeper dynamics at play.

When I work with many immigrant who came to the U.S. because of their partner’s career, a recurring pattern emerges. Many arrived without a clear personal vision for their life here—their migration was shaped by love, family priorities, and the practical logic that their partner’s job, often better paid and more recognized in the U.S., would anchor the household.

But soon, they find themselves in a double-bind:

If they invest in building their own career—perhaps going to graduate school or retraining—the family’s quality of life may decrease, since they are the default manager of household chores and childcare.
If they remain at home, they retain certain comforts—a less pressured schedule, time for hobbies—but often feel restless, unfulfilled, or disconnected from their own professional identity and society.

The trade-off is stark, and in this tug-of-war between comfort and growth, many choose stability—even if it leaves a quiet ache for a different life.

My own migration story is almost the opposite. I left an established career in Taiwan to pursue higher education in the U.S., with the clear intention of building a new professional life here. My path has been full of effort and adaptation—and I never looked back.

Sometimes, in the therapy room, I notice that I try very hard to align with the inner world of these clients who never sought this path for themselves. Even outside the session, I find myself reflecting on their stories—sensing that beneath the surface, there is something deeply archetypal about how migration begins and how that shapes the willingness to claim a place in a new society.

These are just two examples that illustrate a broader spectrum:

(1) migrations that begin with a deliberate, self-driven quest, and (2) those that begin with a more circumstantial or externally guided path.

How a journey starts can profoundly influence how a person engages with life in their new country—their sense of agency, the barriers they are willing to face, and the depth of their integration. This is what we will explore in the rest of this blog.

The Power of the Immigration Story

Jungian psychology teaches us that each person lives according to an inner narrative or personal myth. This myth isn’t necessarily a literal story we tell others—it’s the felt sense of who we are, what our life means, and what role we play in the unfolding of our days.

The way migration begins often becomes the opening chapter of that myth in the new country.

Did you fight to get here, envisioning a better life and actively shaping your journey?

Or were you carried here by another’s decision or by circumstances beyond your control?

That origin story can influence how you see your possibilities, challenges, and responsibilities in your new environment.

Active Migration: The Hero Archetype

When the move to the U.S. is self-driven, the migration story often aligns with what Jung might call the Hero archetype.

The Hero sets out from the known world, faces trials, and overcomes barriers with courage and determination.

Psychological orientation: There is a sense of agency, ownership, and commitment. Obstacles are framed as part of the quest, and challenges may be met with problem-solving energy.
Potential strengths: Resilience, adaptability, a strong internal compass.
Potential shadow: Over-identification with self-sufficiency, reluctance to ask for help, burnout from relentless striving.

In therapy, I often see that Hero migrants may struggle with slowing down, resting, or recognizing their limits—as if pausing might unravel the hard-won progress.

Passive Migration: The Exile Archetype

For those whose migration is shaped by external forces—a partner’s career, family relocation, or fleeing difficult conditions at home—the narrative may resonate more with the Exile archetype.

The Exile is displaced, often without a clear destination of their own choosing, and must adapt to a new landscape while holding memories of what was left behind.

Psychological orientation: There can be a lingering sense of being a guest in someone else’s story. Decisions may feel reactive rather than proactive.
Potential strengths: Flexibility, empathy for others who adapt under pressure, deep connection to origins.
Potential shadow: Resentment, withdrawal, difficulty envisioning a personal future in the host country.

Many immigrants I meet in this situation have deferred their own ambitions, sometimes for years, until a crisis or inner restlessness pushes them to reconsider.

From Fate to Agency: The Individuation Process

Jungian individuation is the lifelong process of becoming more fully oneself—integrating unconscious aspects of the psyche into conscious awareness and choice.

Even if migration begins passively, individuation invites a shift from being carried by fate to steering one’s own course.

For a passive migrant, this can mean:

Acknowledging the original migration story—without shame or comparison—and recognizing it as just the first chapter.
Experimenting with small, self-directed steps toward personal goals.
Reframing identity from “I followed” to “I am now choosing.”

Rewriting the Migration Story

For immigrants, one empowering step is to consciously “re-author” their migration story. Rather than viewing themselves only as passive recipients of circumstance, individuals can begin to see the ways they have already demonstrated strength, endurance, and creativity.

This rewriting doesn’t mean denying the difficulties; it means holding them alongside the resilience that got them here. For example, someone who came due to their partner’s career might recognize the courage it took to leave their home country, the adaptability they’ve shown in supporting their family, and the new opportunities they can still create for themselves.

Practical steps can support this process:

Paying close attention to feelings can help individuals recognize their true needs, even when those needs have been long suppressed.
Learning how to take care of those needs through small, consistent steps in daily life—such as setting boundaries, carving out personal time, or pursuing a modest personal goal—can gradually shift one’s sense of agency.
Engaging in professional support, like psychotherapy, also provides a safe container to explore these inner dynamics and reframe the migration story in a more empowering way.

In Jungian terms, this is a form of individuation: moving toward becoming a fuller, more integrated self, not defined solely by external forces, but by inner alignment with one’s authentic path.

Closing Reflection

Migration changes us in ways we can’t always see at first.

Our first chapter—whether written with bold intention or carried by another’s pen—does not have to dictate the whole book.

In the Jungian sense, the journey is always toward wholeness, and each conscious choice to claim a role in our new society is part of that individuation process.

The question worth returning to is

not only Why did I come?

but Who am I becoming here?