Meet Wanyi Li

We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Wanyi Li. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Wanyi below.

Wanyi, we’re thrilled to have you sharing your thoughts and lessons with our community. So, for folks who are at a stage in their life or career where they are trying to be more resilient, can you share where you get your resilience from?

When I think about resilience, I realize it’s something that’s been built slowly through different stages of my life—physically, emotionally, and mentally. My earliest understanding of resilience came from physical training. I started dancing as a child and later began studying traditional Chinese opera in middle school. Years of rigorous training taught me that resilience can look like muscle memory—like the body learning how to push through discomfort and return stronger. When I had injuries or vocal strain, I learned to care for my body, but also the patience and consistency.

But mental and emotional resilience came later, and those lessons were more complex. The first major turning point was in high school, when I chose to leave home to attend an arts-focused boarding school in another city- I made a decision that could shape my future. It was a brave choice, but also a lonely one. I struggled to adjust to a new environment and experienced serious emotional lows, including depression and self-doubt. I called my parents every day, and even when I wanted to shut down, I chose to keep communicating. That decision—to stay open instead of isolating—helped me find my way back. I also experienced burnout. In my second year of high school, the pressure to perform made me start to resent the very art form I once loved. I lost motivation, avoided rehearsals, and missed opportunities. But one summer, after talking to my parents, I decided to go see a live opera performance—and that experience reawakened my passion. I realized I wasn’t done yet; I just needed to reconnect with *why* I started. From then on, I improved quickly, both in skill and confidence. In that phase of my life, my resilience came from my family, my mentors, and my decision to keep seeking inspiration even when I felt lost.

After high school, I chose to take a gap year to apply for overseas universities, turning down job offers to focus fully on preparing my portfolio. I spent that year deeply immersed in musical theatre training and language learning. Because I had a clear goal, I was able to stay focused and not be overwhelmed by minor setbacks. That sense of purpose gave me strength.

Then I moved abroad for university, and everything changed again. New country, new language, new people—it was a huge shift. I chose to live in the dorms to push myself socially and improve my English. But the first few weeks were hard. I couldn’t keep up with conversations, and I remember crying in front of my roommate from sheer frustration and homesickness. But I didn’t give up. I started joining parties and events, and surprisingly, my social confidence and language ability improved faster than I expected. I realized that even in unfamiliar territory, I could adapt.

Still, I faced new challenges. I failed multiple auditions and started doubting whether musical theatre was the right path. I didn’t feel confident singing or acting in English, and that created a huge gap between what I wanted to express and what I could actually do. I was scared that I had made the wrong choice, and I didn’t want to fall into the same burnout I experienced in high school. So instead of shutting down, I explored new fields—modeling, film acting, even economics and psychology. I threw myself into every opportunity, and in doing so, I discovered new sides of myself.

Eventually, I transferred to a new university, moved into my own apartment, and once again had to rebuild everything—my routines, my friendships, my sense of belonging. But this time, I approached it differently. I slowed down. I focused more on observing, thinking, and growing organically. My academic work improved significantly, partly because the environment was more challenging, but also because I had become more mature and self-driven.

Emotionally, I’ve also grown through heartbreak and personal reflection. I used to fear emotional pain, but now I see it as a way to better understand myself. I’ve grounded myself in psychology, meditation, religious rituals, classical music, and old operas. Whenever I feel overwhelmed, I revisit traditional opera scenes I once performed—and they bring me an unexpected peace. That tells me that even after all the change and struggle, some parts of me remain steady.

So, where do I get my resilience from? I would say it is from my training, from my family, from my curiosity. From every time I chose communication over silence, exploration over avoidance, and growth over fear. Most of all, I get my resilience from learning to find strength not just in pushing forward, but in looking inward and understanding myself more deeply.

Great, so let’s take a few minutes and cover your story. What should folks know about you and what you do?

I’m an actress with a background in traditional Chinese opera and a growing passion for interdisciplinary performance. I started training in classical dance and opera from a young age, and over the years, I’ve developed a strong foundation in voice, movement, and storytelling. That foundation has shaped not only how I perform, but how I experience the world—through rhythm, emotion, and presence.

Right now, I’m focused on building a professional career in musical theatre and film acting. After moving abroad for university, I’ve been exploring how to combine Eastern and Western performance styles—bringing traditional Chinese elements into contemporary formats like film, stage musicals, and even experimental media. I’m also diving into modeling, screen acting, and movement-based storytelling, which allows me to expand the ways I express character and emotion.

What excites me most about what I do is the ability to constantly evolve. I love the process of discovery—whether that’s finding a new physical gesture, understanding a character’s psychology, or interpreting a classical piece in a modern way. I’m also passionate about representation: I hope to bring more visibility to Asian voices and stories, especially those rooted in cultural tradition but spoken through a modern lens.

If you had to pick three qualities that are most important to develop, which three would you say matter most?

Looking back on my journey so far, I would say the three most important qualities that shaped who I am today are self-awareness, adaptability, and continuing to explore.

For self-awareness, this didn’t come easily—I had to go through intense emotional highs and lows to truly understand myself. But being able to recognize “what I feel”, “why I feel it”, and “what I need” in any given moment has helped me make better decisions, both personally and artistically. My advice is: don’t rush to “fix” or avoid discomfort. Instead, sit with your feelings and ask what they’re trying to tell you. Journaling, therapy, or simply spending time alone in reflection can be incredibly powerful tools.

For adaptability, moving across cities, countries, and cultures forced me to become flexible, not just in logistics, but in mindset. Every time I entered a new environment, whether it was a school, an audition room, or a new friend circle, I had to relearn how to navigate the space. But instead of seeing that as instability, I started to treat it as training.

As for continuing to explore, there were many moments in my journey where I felt lost, questioning my passion, my path, or my abilities. But instead of giving up, I chose to explore. I tried modeling, film acting, economics, psychology, and dance teams. I said yes to auditions even when I wasn’t sure of myself. So never limit yourself to one version of who you think you are. Let curiosity lead you.

Looking back over the past 12 months or so, what do you think has been your biggest area of improvement or growth?

This past year, I went through several major transitions: I transferred to a new university, moved out of student housing, and started living alone in a completely unfamiliar environment. At the same time, I experienced an emotionally intense chapter in my personal life that forced me to confront parts of myself I hadn’t fully understood yet. These changes didn’t just shift my surroundings—they pushed me to look inward and ask: “What truly anchors me? What do I want my life to feel like?”

For a while, I struggled. I felt isolated and uncertain, like I had lost my rhythm. But over time, I began to rebuild it—slowly, intentionally. I found peace in daily rituals, strength in solitude, and clarity through reflection. I explored psychology more deeply, used music and books as emotional tools, and even revisited the classical Chinese opera pieces I had trained in years ago. They somehow brought me a sense of calm and connection to my roots.

On the other hand, I went through a complex emotional experience in my personal life that challenged my sense of stability. It was a period of intense introspection, and honestly, there were times I felt completely unmoored. But that disorientation also cracked something open in me—something I now recognize as a deeper layer of sensitivity and truth. I became more inward, more reflective. I started drawing inspiration not just from technique or external stories, but from real emotional experiences—loneliness, heartbreak, uncertainty, resilience. I found myself connecting more honestly to characters and texts, especially those with complex emotional arcs.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: ronnielee.yi21

Image Credits

Photographer: Julie Lucas, Instagram @jjustin.flores @lotusqio @ronmckinneyphoto