Unlearning & Relearning: A New Parenting Journey for Global Nepali Families

~approximately 4-5 mins read

Unlearning, relearning, and raising the next generation with Intention
When I was little, I used to look up at the planes crossing the Kathmandu sky and whisper a quiet promise to myself - one day, I’ll be on one of those.

It wasn’t about leaving home; it was about finding my place in the world. Like so many of us, I dreamt of living beyond the four corners where I was raised, and of building a life filled with freedom, 'life' on my own terms, learning, and the quiet pride of I did it. 

Years later, I boarded that plane at 18, armed with ambition, curiosity, and equal parts fear and excitement. I graduated, landed my first internship at a big global firm, and built a career that challenged every limitation I’d once believed about myself. I was learning, achieving, becoming.

And then - motherhood happened.

Motherhood: The Quiet Revolution
It sounds cliché, but motherhood rewires you. It’s not just about sleepless nights and soft snuggles; it’s about confronting every unexamined corner of yourself.

When my daughter arrived, every fibre of my being shifted. I began opening the mental drawers I’d long kept locked such as my beliefs, my boundaries, my need to please, my old fears and so on. And perhaps the most profound shift came with a new understanding of what a village really means.

I used to think a village meant your family, people who share your bloodline, or even the same passport, or surname. But raising a child abroad teaches you otherwise. My village looked like our Maternal & Child Health (MCH) nurse checking in on my baby’s growth, the daycare educators who celebrated her milestones, and a handful of friends whose energy felt safe and nourishing.

In many ways, motherhood helped me re-cleanse my energy; to consciously choose who and what I allowed around us.

The Unlearning Phase
When you become a parent, especially far from “home”, you realise how much you’ve inherited: ways of talking, reacting, judging, loving.

Suddenly, advice comes pouring in from all directions: “This is how we did it.” “Don’t forget your roots.” “You’ll regret it later.”

It used to sting. But over time, I learned something crucial, that kind of judgment often comes from people still living in survival mode. They haven’t had the space or privilege to pause, reflect, and heal. Their “right way” often comes from how they were treated, or from the wisdom they wish they’d been given.

So instead of reacting, I began to listen with empathy. To pause. To learn and unlearn.

Somewhere along the way, I discovered that knowledge really does begin with curiosity. Late-night Google searches turned into books, from the Montessori philosophy, gentle parenting, emotional intelligence, neuroscience, and the teachings of academic parenting experts and life-long researchers.

I realised how much of parenting is actually re-parenting ourselves.

Survival Mode vs. Curiosity Mode
Living abroad, you begin to notice the contrast.

Back home, life moves in survival rhythms, still to date like clockwork - “K khayo aja?” and “Kasto mottayechau hai?” are everyday shorthand for care, though often unaware of how those words land. That comes from a culture wired to survive before it thrives.

Overseas, life feels different, quieter, more individualistic, yes, but also filled with opportunities to reflect. That space can be confronting. Freedom forces you to see the patterns you inherited, the voices you absorbed, and the ones you’re ready to release.

I’ve met all kinds of global Nepali families, some rebuilding their lives with curiosity and compassion, others unknowingly recreating the same hierarchies they left behind. I’ve learned to love the first kind and quietly let go of the second.

Until next time, happy connecting!