She feared deportation. Now she’s teaching resilience

By Stephanie Lam

(This story is made possible with the support of The Asian American Foundation)

The Takeaways

• Resilience is an active practice, and Arbaina Kawilan shows how choosing yourself — even in the face of cultural pressure and immigration uncertainty — can become a turning point toward healing.
• Cultural stigma and systemic barriers keep many AAPI survivors silent, but rising awareness and community support are helping more women seek safety and resources.
• Rebuilding after trauma is possible, and Kawilan’s journey from poverty to podcast host and TED speaker illustrates how sharing your story can transform pain into purpose.

The Details

When it comes to learning how to grow from painful experiences, Arbaina Kawilan can talk for hours about the topic – and she does. 

Every week, the 33-year-old pours her soul into sharing advice on how people, especially women, can rebuild their lives after experiencing difficult situations and reconnect with their truest selves. 

Kawilan, who lives in Texas, is the founder of The Resilience Code, a podcast she posts on Youtube about “emotional alchemy” or the process of channeling one’s pain into finding a purpose. In September, she presented a Ted Talk in Florida on a similar topic.

Kawilan’s advice stems from lessons she’s learned in her personal life: from growing up in poverty in the Philippines and moving to America; to escaping a rocky marriage and facing visa uncertainty as an immigrant. No matter what life throws at her, Kawilan said she is determined to remain resilient, and hopes to inspire others to do the same. 

“Resilience is not about pretending you are ok,” Kawilan said. “It’s about choosing again and again, not to be hardened, but to be changed. ” 

Kawilan grew up in Cotabato City in the Philippines and was raised by her grandmother in extreme poverty. As a child, Kawailan aspired to become an advocate and speak up for children in need. It was a dream that was born from watching videos of actor Angelina Jolie’s humanitarian work, who was a former special envoy for the United Nations Refugee Agency.

“I knew how it felt to be hungry and helpless, and experiencing that as a child,” Kawilan said.  

Eventually Kawilan immigrated to the U.S for a job and settled down in South Carolina. When her visa expired, she decided to move to Austin. There, she met and married an American man. Over time, however, their dynamic changed. Kawailan said she started feeling unsafe. There was screaming, and physical altercations. “It was a complete emotional rollercoaster,” she said.  

For years Kawilan stayed, hoping the situation would improve and holding on to the promise of obtaining a green card through her marriage. They had begun the process to do so in 2020.

At one point, Kawilan said she filed charges for domestic abuse against her then husband, which were later dropped. He was later charged with a misdemeanor for interfering with a 911 call made by Kawilan; the last public update on this case is that he had an Article 16.22 assessment, sealed from the public, which is a procedure proscribed by Texas law for “early identification of individuals suspected of having a mental illness or intellectual disability who are involved in the criminal justice system.”

In February 2022, Kawilan decided to leave him. 

“For the first time in my life I was choosing myself over everyone else,” she said. “I was choosing my dignity and self respect.”

Kawilan’s situation of feeling unsafe in a relationship is not uncommon, especially for members of the Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) community.

Around 55% of Asian women in the U.S have experienced some form of physical or sexual violence in their lifetime, according to the Asian Pacific Institute on Gender-Based Violence. Meanwhile, 18% of AAPI women experienced rape, physical violence or stalking by an intimate partner.

Many Asian cultures view leaving relationships or marriages as an act of dishonor or source of shame for the family, according to Samira Ghosh, director of advocacy at Asian Family Support Services of Austin (AFFSA). This perspective can make it harder for survivors to seek professional help, or leave abusive or toxic relationships.

“Particularly women internalize from childhood that under no circumstance are you to bring shame on your family,” Ghosh said.

The AFFSA is a Texas-based nonprofit organization providing assistance to Asian families dealing with domestic violence, sexual assault and trafficking. The center has bilingual and bicultural staff who can provide intervention services in 39 different languages. About 9% of Austin’s population are Asian. 

There are a laundry list of factors that influence people’s decisions to stay in such relationships: wanting to provide a nuclear family unit for their children, maintain financial stability, or obtain a Visa. There are emotional factors as well, Ghosh said People may develop a low sense of self-esteem, and believe their situation will not get better, or they don’t deserve to have better opportunities.

But in the past few years, the organization has noticed a shift in the number of people reaching out for help. Before the COVID-19 pandemic, AFFSA served around 200 clients a year. This year, they served more than 600.

“The threshold for tolerance is also being lowered in Asian communities,” Ghosh said. “People are not willing to put up with abuse. Our communities are wanting to believe survivors, supporting survivors and feeling that every human deserves better.”

Ghosh said advocacy, education and outreach efforts can help people in abusive relationships find resources and support. AFFSA staff actively share their work at local cultural festivals and partner with student, faith-based, women and senior programs. They provide public presentations on topics including domestic violence, sexual assault, barriers for Asian survivors, healthy relationships, online safety, among others.

After Kawilan left her husband, she stayed in a shelter to figure out her next steps. She found rental apartments off of CraigsList, then filed for divorce, which was finalized in 2023. “I am rebuilding block by block,” she said. 

With time, Kawilan said she found the courage to publicly share her story. She launched her Resilience Code podcast this year, an effort that helped her to achieve her dream ofhosting a TedTalk.

While Kawilan navigates her new life in the U.S, there is another looming threat she worries about: her legal status. Since she was unable to obtain a green card through her marriage, Kawilan is petitioning for it under the Violence Against Women Act. The act allows abused spouses, children of U.S. citizens, green card citizens and abused parents of citizens to apply for immigration relief separate from their abusive family member.

She was recently issued a prima facie by the USCIS, which is a legal status that will allow her to stay in the country while a decision is being made about her case. While she is unsure about what the future may hold, Kawilan said she wants to make the most out of her life. 

“I have this anxiety that I might be booted out of this country,” she said. “But it’s better than being in a relationship where you don’t thrive anymore.”

(Correction: An earlier version of this story misspelled Kawilan’s name in several places)