Who Do You Belong To? Expanding Kinship Beyond What I Was Told I Was Allowed To Be

There is a question I have been asked my whole life.

It’s not “What do you do?”
It’s not “Where are you from?”
It’s not “What do you believe in?”



It’s this:

"WHO DO YOU BELONG TO?"

In First Nations communities, this question is not small talk.
It is not a curiosity.
It is a map.
It’s how we connect lineage, land, obligation, story, and relationship.
It’s how we figure out kinship, not just where you are from, but who you are responsible to.

It’s how people know:
Are you someone’s sister?
Are you someone’s Aunty?
Whose granddaughter are you?
Are you in-law, or sorry business family, or skin sister?

Because belonging is not just identity.
It is position, responsibility, and relationship.


In First Nations kinship, belonging is not about who claims you.
It is also about who you are accountable to.

But here's where I struggled…

When non-Indigenous Australia asked me who I was,
I didn’t get asked “Who are your people?”

I got asked:
“But what are you?”
“Are you Aboriginal or Torres Strait?”
“Are you Part Indigenous?”
“How much?”

Some people wanted culture.
Some wanted category.
Some wanted proof.

So I learnt quickly:
It wasn’t about belonging.
It was about fitting.

• Fitting into funding criteria
• Fitting into identity boxes
• Fitting into people’s expectations of who I should serve and where my voice should stay

And before I even knew it, I believed something quietly:



Maybe I only belong to the Blak parts of me.
Maybe that’s where I’m supposed to stay.
Maybe that’s all I’m allowed to serve.

And here’s the important part:
I believed this was loyalty.
But I realise now, it was limitation.

What kinship really taught me

Kinship is deep.
It is cultural, yes.
But it is also relational, emotional, and spiritual.

Kinship taught me:

I can belong to my Torres Strait and Aboriginal families,
and still belong to my Irish heritage
and belong to brown women globally
and belong to mothers
and belong to women building businesses from their kitchens, cities, islands and screens
and belong to anyone who is trying to create something honest, from where they stand.

My kinship is not a cage.
It is a circle.

So, I believe my kinship is to all women and girls
Yes, I believe in investing deeply into First Nations women, girls and communities.
Yes, I will always carry that responsibility.

But I also believe our women are not meant to lead only in “First Nations spaces”.

We are allowed to lead in:

• corporate spaces,
• creative spaces,
• sporting spaces,
• international spaces,
• and spaces that don’t yet exist.

We are not meant to lead away from our identity,
but we are also not meant to lead only within it.

I belong to more.
More than the one box someone tried to assign to my identity.
More than one community I am expected to stay inside.
More than one “approved” audience.

So, I made a decision in business:

I will work with all women.
Founders. Business owners. Athletes. Coaches. Students. Mothers. Professionals.
Women in remote communities and in city boardrooms.
Brown, Blak, white, multicultural, women.

I will openly share my experiences as a First Nations woman
from lived experience, not sacred or cultural authority
to show how First Nations ways of building, connecting, and holding people
can shape better business.

Not cultural business.
Just better business.

Business that feels aligned.
That honours responsibility, reciprocity and relationship.
That doesn’t just transact.
But connects.

So I ask you —

not “What do you do?”
but
Who do you belong to?
And who might belong with you, that you’ve never allowed into your circle?

Because I think we are allowed to widen the circle now.
Without losing ourselves.
Without leaving where we come from.
Without shrinking or performing.

If this landed, you may already be part of Female First.

With Love,

Libb