A Journey Rooted in People and Expression
I’ve always been fascinated by people. Growing up on Vancouver Island on Canada’s West Coast—a place often described as the city of “newlyweds and nearly deads”—I made the most of a fairly quiet childhood by closely observing those around me. I wanted to understand what shaped their choices and behaviours. School, sports, and everyday interactions became a training ground where I tested theories in my head, asking why people said what they said or acted the way they did.
Over time, I learned to notice subtle verbal and non-verbal cues—tiny signals that revealed the hidden worlds within each person. I realized there were no boring people, only untold stories or unpolished self-expression.
But what I was learning about others didn’t come easily when applied to myself. My teenage years were marked by guardedness. I was shy, awkward, and often too nervous to say the things I desperately wanted to. My relationships stayed superficial, and despite my efforts, I couldn’t move past the surface with people. Slowly, isolation crept in, leaving me feeling aimless and disconnected from a deeper sense of life.
Everything changed in my early twenties. On paper, I was on the right path — I moved to a bigger city and started a career in tech consulting. In reality, I was miserable. Away from the only home I had known, burdened by new workplace complexities, and grieving several personal losses, I felt the ground beneath me give way. Nothing in my upbringing had prepared me for this.
That was the breaking point where I realized: if I wanted to build a life that felt meaningful, I had to find my voice.
I started by looking inward—peeling back layers of assumption and self-protection to discover who I really was and what I truly wanted. Then I turned outward, applying everything I’d observed about human behaviour to my own life. I began telling my story in ways that felt authentic and—crucially—resonated with others.
Almost immediately, I noticed a shift. As I opened up, friends responded in kind. Conversations flowed past niceties and into trust, honesty, and authenticity. At work, my confidence multiplied, and so did my performance. Even with my family, communication deepened in ways I hadn’t experienced before. For the first time, life didn’t feel shallow or scripted—it felt intentional, connected, meaningful. I finally felt like myself.
Learning self-expression was like unlocking a superpower. People started describing me as “extroverted,” “confident,” even “charismatic” — words I could never have imagined applying to me only a few years earlier. That transformation sparked a journey I’m still on today:
- A 10+ year career in marketing, helping start-ups and Fortune 500 companies across North America and Europe sharpen their voices and build stronger relationships.
- Becoming a DE+I leader within one of the world’s largest advertising organizations and a growing global tech company
- Most importantly, building communities and relationships that make my life full of meaning.
Twin Sheep: Corey Leung’s Expression
This site—and the idea of Twin Sheep—is simply another extension of my expression.
The name comes from my Zodiac signs: Gemini in the Western tradition and Sheep in the Lunar calendar. While I’m not particularly superstitious, I’ve always loved the phrase Twin Sheep as a symbol of my story—as someone ethnically Chinese, born and raised in Canada, and holding both Canadian and Portuguese citizenship.
Living at the intersection of cultures often made me feel torn—at times an outsider, at times one of the team. But I’ve come to see that tension not as a burden, but as something universal. We all carry parts of ourselves that feel “other,” and parts that belong. We all contain black sheep and white sheep. Together, they form the contrast that makes us unique. Twin Sheep is about celebrating that duality.
This space is both professional and personal. It’s where I share what I learn as I follow each curiosity—whether it’s the future of marketing, the role of music in our lives, or lessons from relationships. More than anything, it’s a home for authentic self-expression—mine, yes, but hopefully also a source of ideas and strategies to help others explore their own.