It’s kind of an unusual balance. At home, Korean culture dominates. My mum speaks to me and my siblings in Korean. She cooks Korean dishes for us and watches the Korean news. However, Sri-Lankan culture dominates whenever I step outside of my house. Because of his work, my dad never had the time to teach us about his culture, so I learned a lot from my friends or by going to events held in the Sri-Lankan community. 

Many people would say it’s a good balance and I agree. Of course, with every good thing, comes a challenge. As I grew up, it became harder and harder to switch between cultures in different settings. When I hang out with my cousins from my mum’s side, there are certain things they like to talk about and specific ways they interact, which I’ve learnt to adopt. The same goes for when I hang out with my Sri-Lankan friends or cousins. 

It’s like when you know that you can't make certain jokes with specific people because their type of humour is different. Over time, I became confused; was this really me, or was I just acting, [changing who I am] in front of two different groups of people the whole time? It’s really confusing to know who I really am.

As a young child, I only ever wanted to be me. I looked up to the imaginary Ilma who was confident in herself, the Ilma who didn’t feel the need to change herself. In a way, having this version of myself as my role model really helped to improve my confidence. I learnt to unapologetically be myself - it’s up to others if they want to accept me or not. 

Growing up mixed in London was harder when I was younger. In the early 2000s, it was still uncommon to see mixed people around in my area, so I remember being confused as a child, wondering why I don’t look like my Korean friends or my Sri-Lankan friends. At one point, people would just assume I was Indonesian because of how I looked, and I went along with it. Younger me even wondered if I’d feel more comfortable living in Indonesia than in Sri-Lanka and Korea.

A memory that stays with me till today, was when my primary school teacher called out my Chinese friend when my mum came to pick me up. I also remember my friends asking me if my dad was my real dad because of the difference in our skin colour. At the time, it was hurtful to me, but my friends and I were just curious children after all.