Who is Angela Meng, the Chinese-American owner of Coinbase, who moved to the U.S. at the age of 11?

Author: Jaleel Jia Liu, BlockBeats

Who is Angela Meng? This might be the biggest gossip in the Chinese crypto community these days.

In the crypto industry, news of marriage can spark a discussion, especially when the protagonist is Brian Armstrong, co-founder and CEO of the world's most well-known cryptocurrency exchange platform, Coinbase. Recently, Brian announced on social media that he married Angela Meng a week ago, and this news quickly ignited a heated discussion in the crypto community. Notable figures from the global crypto space sent their blessings, with Ark Invest's Cathie Wood ("Wood Sister") and MicroStrategy's founder expressing sincere congratulations to the newlyweds.

As one of the largest cryptocurrency exchanges in the world, Coinbase has a market value of $41.4 billion. Coinbase is not only the largest cryptocurrency exchange in the Western world but also one of the most influential fintech companies globally. Even before going public, Coinbase was already a company that had no worries about funding, and after its IPO, it became even more prominent. According to data, in the U.S., about 13 out of every 100 people use Coinbase for trading.

Brian Armstrong's personal wealth has also soared alongside Coinbase's rise, currently estimated at around $7.4 billion, making him one of the key figures in the global cryptocurrency field.

The emergence of Angela Meng naturally sparked great curiosity about her, especially since her Asian identity makes her feel relatable to the Chinese community. Some members of the crypto community even compared her to another Chinese "exchange boss lady"—He Yi from Binance. Although Angela seemingly had no prior involvement in the crypto space, people couldn't help but wonder if she would become a valuable assistant to Brian in his career, playing an important role in the crypto world like He Yi, or if she would continue her journalism career in the crypto industry.

From the limited information available, Rhythm BlockBeats pieced together Angela's growth story: she immigrated to the U.S. at the age of 11, sharing a rental with two other families, and she believed her original family was situated between the working class and the new peasant class; during her time in American middle school, like many immigrant children, she struggled to fit in and was often bullied by local kids; she took care of a German Shepherd mix for over six months, but her parents couldn't afford the cost of adoption; she attended UCLA for college and became a journalist and model after graduation…

Immigrated to the U.S. at 11, shared a rental with three families

For the ten years before leaving China, Angela lived with her grandparents. Angela's grandmother initially worked in a paper mill and had only a middle school education, but after universities reopened, she became a laboratory assistant at the University of Science and Technology of China, eventually being promoted to professor due to her popularity among students.

In Angela's childhood memories, there are many moments spent in the kitchen with her grandmother. The kitchen was dimly lit, without hot water, with mung beans sizzling in the frying pan, and the kettle on the stove starting to whistle. Her grandmother would bring her a small stool to sit beside her and help chop vegetables while she took care of the cooking. After dinner, they would do homework together, tidy up the kitchen, and occasionally watch the news. Every month, she would help her grandmother dye her hair, while her grandmother would braid her hair.

Childhood Angela Meng with her grandmother, source: Angela

As a member of the generation under China's one-child policy, Angela and her peers were often spoiled, but her grandmother provided her with a good early education, acting as her surrogate mother, teaching her diligence, humility, and integrity. Angela's grandmother passed away on the morning of May 6, 2020. At that time, Angela was in California, and the 15-hour time difference made her feel that her grandmother was still alive in her own time.

When Angela was 11, she and her mother arrived in the U.S. to reunite with her father, and the three of them squeezed into a single-story room. They shared this small house with two other immigrant families, renting the cheapest bedroom in the middle for $400 a month, sharing the front door with one family and the back door with another, while the bathroom was shared among the three households.

Among the two neighboring families, one was a family of three, and since they had green cards and spoke basic English, Angela's parents respected them greatly. They occupied the most beautiful part of the house, with a rose bush and some wild mint in the front yard. The mother of this family, Annie, worked as a receptionist in a warehouse, often practiced yoga, and frequently shared brief reflections with Angela's family about "real American life": "Americans love pickup trucks, hamburgers, and pizza, and sometimes they eat vegetables, even raw ones, which they call salad."

Angela was fascinated by Annie's descriptions of American social classes. In her view, her birthplace, China, consisted of three parts:

1) Those with political connections, thus wealthy and educated; 2) The working class, far less wealthy than the former and with much lower education levels; 3) The peasant class, which makes up about 65% of the population, uneducated and impoverished agricultural workers, literally referred to as "peasants."

Her family was probably situated between the working class and the new peasant class. Angela remembers once going to the supermarket with her mother, wanting to buy a box of quickly ripening strawberries, but when her mother saw the price, she apologized to Angela and told her to put down the strawberries at $3.99 per pound and get some Fuji apples at $0.69 per pound instead.

Besides the respected neighbor Annie's family, Angela also had a neighbor who was an illegal immigrant family, consisting of a pair of parents and a set of twins. Angela's parents and neighbor Annie looked down on this illegal immigrant family because they worked for less than minimum wage, had irregular work hours suitable for undocumented workers but harmful to health; the neighbor's father worked at a construction site three hours away, while the mother was an elderly care assistant who was illiterate and a farmer in China. But Angela felt a fondness for this neighbor family because they did not display the obvious cultural inferiority complex that Annie and her parents did. With them, there was no talk of class or social status, no jealousy or superiority. Although they often came home covered in dust or smelling of sewage, they were warm and not self-pitying, curious and not preachy, as if they were born with a gift for accepting life.

The twins were troublemakers but also good friends of Angela during her childhood. The twin boys were named Kevin, while the twin girls excitedly changed their English names, calling themselves everything from April to June to Olivia, and this week, Samantha.

"Outsider," bullied during middle school

On her first day of middle school in the U.S., her mother dressed Angela in an outfit that was considered "cool" in China: a bright blue sweater with "BABY SEXY DREAM" written on it, featuring a magenta bear pattern below. She also wore a so-called "Louis Vuitton" headband (Louis Vuitton doesn't even make headbands) and a pair of oversized, short blue pants.

Unlike her current image, which often features a smile and modeling for Elite Model Management and LA Models, Angela rarely smiled back then, always looking down at her shoes, afraid that others wouldn't return her smile. She had no social skills and spoke terrible English. When someone asked her why she didn't climb the monkey bars, she replied in her broken English, "is very ouch" (meaning "it's very painful"), thinking that this would express her fear of getting hurt.

She grew quickly, standing about 152 cm tall in middle school but weighing only 32 kg, while most of her classmates were around 135 cm tall and of normal build, making Angela stand out among them. Afraid of being laughed at, she often walked hunched over, avoiding eye contact.

Angela hated the playground because she had never used her body for anything other than carrying her thoughts. On the playground, she appeared clumsy, losing her balance and moving awkwardly. She had never thrown a ball, let alone caught one. Dodgeball was Angela's least favorite sport; she felt it was the culprit behind her elementary school PTSD. During games, she either moved awkwardly or retreated suddenly, flailing her arms. Most of her classmates grew up in a diverse educational system, possessing agility like cheetahs and gymnastic skills like jungle monkeys.

Like most immigrant children, Angela's naturally slender figure and uncoordinated appearance made it difficult for her to fit in with her peers, becoming a target for ridicule and bullying. They unhesitatingly gave her various cruel nicknames, such as "skinny bone jones," "bulimic bitch," "Jap," "chink," "gook," and "dumpling dumpster."

Angela was thrown into a world completely different from the Chinese education system she was familiar with. In Chinese schools, academic excellence is the only standard, and respect is earned through perfect scores and mastering musical instruments; any unruly behavior is not tolerated. However, American schools felt more like a state of anarchy. Students cursed at each other and threw paper balls, while teachers would only half-heartedly say, "Stop messing around," and then let the situation worsen. Here, everyone seemed to have a fixed social role, with diligent kids labeled as "nerds" and "losers," while respect was often not earned in the classroom but on the playground through physical advantages.

One afternoon, as Angela was walking home, three classmates from science class caught up with her. "Hey, you!" the leader of the group shouted. Angela didn't say anything but quickened her pace, wanting to get home quickly. A few hours earlier, under the teacher's supervision, they had worked together on a group project, appearing friendly and civilized, but now they had turned into savages.

"Hey, SKINNY-ASS BITCH!" the leader shouted louder, grabbing the strap of Angela's backpack, "Do you think you're better than us?" Angela's hair was grabbed, pulling her to one side; another person opened her backpack and started taking things out.

Angela tried to break free, but struggling only made them pull harder. They tugged her for an entire block until they were close to Angela's home, where her mother heard the commotion outside and leaned out the window.

Years of dealing with bullying taught Angela that the most humiliating thing was to let her mother see her being bullied at school. So, she chose to do the only thing she could think of at that moment—laugh. She forced a loud, carefree laugh that could be heard throughout the block. Although her reaction confused the bullies somewhat, the "bullies" still didn't let go.

Just when she was about to despair, a mixed German Shepherd came running out, its fur standing on end, letting out a low growl, charging straight at the kids bullying Angela, barking furiously until the "bullies" ran away in panic.

Mickey, Angela's first adopted dog

This mixed German Shepherd was a stray dog in the neighborhood, and Angela often secretly took care of it. That day, Angela sat on the steps in front of her house for a long time, processing her feelings of shame and fear, while it sat in front of her, one chubby paw resting on her knee, as if supporting the whole world.

"In those days when I came home bruised and humiliated, it saved me, keeping me optimistic with its innate wit and wisdom, as if saying to me: this is life." This is Angela's own words.

Left: Wedding scene; Right: Angela's Instagram

Just as they walked down the flower path at their wedding with a dog, this German Shepherd also played a crucial role in Angela's growth.

Angela named this mixed German Shepherd Mickey because Mickey Mouse was the only American cartoon character she knew at the time. As time passed, Mickey became an important companion in her life.

German Shepherd, Photo: Jena Ardell/Getty Images

There is a scientific theory that pet owners project their own ego onto their pets: for example, bodybuilders describe their pets as the strongest, politicians think their pets are picky and independent, and celebrities say their pets are princesses. Angela also understood this theory well; her descriptions and depictions of Mickey seem to give us a glimpse into the ego and personality of this American crypto giant's Chinese wife:

Mickey never complains, as if she understands the truth of the world like a philosopher: without hardship and pain, there can be no joy. She is steadfast and calm, not the type to jump on furniture or roll over for petting. Every movement she makes is slow and cautious, strong and confident, as calm and composed as a Sphinx.

Angela, source: thebigthing.org

However, this delicate balance was suddenly disrupted. One day, Angela discovered that Mickey was missing. Anxiously, she asked her mother, "Mom, where did Mickey go?" Her mother didn't directly answer her question, wearing a deliberately indifferent expression, telling her to do her homework. Angela kept asking, and her mother coldly replied, "What dog?" before falling silent.

This response plunged Angela into deep confusion and pain. She knew her mother must know what had happened, but her mother's indifference made her feel rejected and alienated. At that moment, her mother was not unaware of Angela's feelings; she was just facing a difficult reality in her own way: she couldn't let her daughter rely too much on this dog. The family had already borne too much pressure and challenges, and having a dog was not a choice they could afford at that moment, especially since Angela's mother had a deep fear of dogs.

In China, dogs are animals that are almost never respected; it wasn't until 2020 that dogs were removed from the definition of "livestock" and became "companion animals." For Angela's mother, the long-standing fear and stereotypes about rabies did not disappear so quickly.

Eventually, Angela learned in her own way that Mickey had been kicked by the housemates for barking too much, resulting in a broken leg, and was subsequently abandoned at a construction site three hours away from home. When she questioned her parents, they fell into endless excuses and accusations.

"What else could we do, Angela? Have you forgotten? How many sacrifices did we make for you to receive an education here? How much sweat and tears did we shed? How many relatives and friends did we give up? We don't even have our own health insurance; how could we afford to take a dog to the vet?"

Every word from her mother carried a sense of helplessness about their reality; she did not intend to hurt Angela but left some scars on the young Angela. Growing up, Angela was often asked, "Have you ever had a dog?" She would always reply, "Yes, I had a mixed German Shepherd named Mickey, named after a Disney character, but I didn't have her for long before she passed away." She decided not to tell them the truth because everyone in this story had their own helplessness.

For a long time after that, Angela decided never to speak to her parents again, expressing her defiance in this way, then growing up in silence, finding a job to support herself, not inviting them to her graduation or wedding, and even not allowing them to attend her funeral if she passed away before them.

Until one day before school, Angela slung her backpack over her shoulder, ensuring her face was expressionless in the mirror, when her mother called her over, holding a crumpled hundred-dollar bill. To Angela at that time, a hundred-dollar bill felt like an urban legend.

But the woman who bought Fuji apples at $0.69 per pound instead of strawberries at $3.99 per pound was Angela's mother, who opened the side zipper of Angela's backpack without saying much, simply placing the money inside and gently patting her head.

Angela suddenly understood that love does not always appear in expected ways; "the language of love" can take many forms. Unlike the companionship with Mickey, this hundred dollars represented a quarter of their monthly rent, and perhaps in her mother's eyes, it was the only support and "language of love" she could give Angela.

From UCLA to Journalist, Model, and Writer

In West Africa, there are some bards, or storytellers, responsible for preserving the history of entire villages. People bring their memories to the bard, who will remember them for future generations.

Angela Meng has mentioned these "bards" in her own story, and she seems to always place herself in such a role and position. When she encounters unexpected stories, she always takes out paper and pen to write them down, which seems to have destined her career development as a journalist.

Angela attended the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA), majoring in history. After graduating from college, she worked in the investment banking division of Lazard in New York, then held positions at the South China Morning Post, Phoenix News, and GEN Magazine, during which she also recorded her stories and wrote on Medium.

Due to her striking appearance, Angela was discovered by a talent scout and began a four-year modeling career, working with Elite Model Management and LA Models, frequently participating in photoshoots and attending art events.

Angela at the Los Angeles Contemporary Art Museum gala in 2022, source: BFA

In her early 20s, Angela was both similar to and different from ordinary women.

Like most young women, Angela loved sweets, especially a traditional Arab dessert called Jordanian knafeh, usually made with cheese, clotted cream, and pistachios or nuts.

Jordanian knafeh, source: internet

But unlike ordinary young women, Angela enjoyed observing ants; she had an ant farm on her desk that simulated the real ecology of ants. The ant ecology tank was not expensive, costing a few hundred dollars, but the ants were pricey.

It is said that in the eyes of some ant enthusiasts, these pet ants are most famous for their origins in Kenya and Mexico, with a single ant costing up to tens of thousands of dollars, and a colony's price could even rival that of a house.

Ant ecology tank, source: internet

After that, Angela settled in Los Angeles and began her life as a writer. Her book, The Big Thing: Brave Bea finds silver linings with the help of family and friends during a global pandemic, has been published.

This is a children's illustrated book themed around family, gratitude, and a sense of belonging, attempting to help children understand the coronavirus period from a positive rather than negative perspective. The story roughly tells of the protagonist's magical and positive experiences during the coronavirus pandemic. With the help of family, teachers, and friends, the protagonist discovers how to find hope in a crisis and see the positive side; it is said that all proceeds from the book's sales are donated to COVID-19 charities.

Source: thebigthing.org

The Turning Point at 30, Anxiety and Struggle

In 2021, Angela Meng was nearing 30 and began to experience what is known as "30-year anxiety."

Although some told her that 30 is the best age in life, with financial stability, a settled life, good health, and a peaceful mental state, like high-end cities such as Zurich, Calgary, or Copenhagen—clean air, low crime rates, well-developed infrastructure, and efficient governance—three years ago, Angela felt that all of this did not attract her. She preferred cities like Berlin, Tbilisi, or Tel Aviv, full of chaos, vibrancy, and the unknown.

In her article Don't Make Me 30, she candidly expressed her resistance to crossing the threshold of 30, as she would have to give up many things she once loved. She asked in confusion, "What exactly does turning 30 mean?"

She didn't want to give up her beloved nightclubs and nostalgically recalled nights spent shouting in front of the DJ booth while wearing a polyester mini skirt and four-inch heels, even though she might have already grown tired of it inside. She didn't want a mortgage or to have friends with mortgages. She preferred to have endless social capital and use it recklessly—this was the privilege that came with being 20.

She didn't want to make retirement plans or save money for a stable life. She would rather splurge on designer bags and champagne. She didn't want to establish long-term relationships with mature men; instead, she preferred to attract emotional manipulators, those who appeared genuine and sincere, because that was the lifestyle she yearned for.

Angela didn't want to write blog posts about "finally feeling complete," "becoming stronger," or "no longer being burdened by societal expectations." She just wanted to maintain her "very alluring" state. She didn't want to learn to "love herself," because in her 20s, there were already enough people lining up to love her. She also didn't want to face the fact that she was gradually approaching the female images in Sex and the City—going out to dinner with any New York man willing to date her, smiling through their boring jokes, while her remaining five eggs ticked away in the background.

Angela didn't want to start meditating, go to India for yoga retreats, or begin using those hollow phrases that only women over 30 say, like "age is just a number" or "30 is the new 20." Deep down, she knew these words were just comforting lies. You are already 30; that is the reality.

Brian Armstrong's $133 million mansion purchase in Los Angeles

In 2024, when Angela and Brian Armstrong entered marriage, she had already crossed the threshold of 30. Although she walked into the kind of life she had resisted in her 20s, fortunately, 41-year-old Brian Armstrong had assets of $7.4 billion, allowing her to continue her lavish lifestyle, spending money on designer bags and champagne. She could still live in familiar Los Angeles, just moving from her apartment to the luxurious mansion that Brian Armstrong purchased for $133 million in 2022.