No holds barred: Stefanie Yuen Thio has no time for injustice – and she’ll let you know it

Stefanie Yuen Thio is a warrior. Over the years, the joint managing partner of TSMP Law Corporation has built a reputation for being someone who doesn’t suffer fools gladly, calling out injustice the moment she sees it.

Still, even she never imagined that she would one day be deepfaked. In a recent op-ed for The Business Times, she recounts the experience: “Photographs and videos fabricated by AI – deepfakes purporting to be me in suggestive poses – appeared on Tiktok and showed up on the feed of a colleague, who alerted me immediately.”

Sitting on a couch in her office, Stefanie shakes her head. “It was kind of a crazy situation, because you wouldn’t expect that at 55 years old, for goodness’ sake.”

The incident felt especially surreal given her role as chairperson of SG Her Empowerment (SHE), the non-profit she founded in 2022 to drive mindset change, reshape gender roles at home and at work, tackle online harms, and support youth.

Writing about the ordeal, she says, wasn’t easy – but it brought a sense of release. “If what I went through can help inform anybody – so that if they or their friend goes through it, they know what to do – then I’ve helped one person.”

Speaking up with purpose, she adds, is its own form of catharsis. What many may not know is that Stefanie’s relationship with writing began long before Linkedin or law. As a student, she interned for The Straits Times’ Life section in the early ’90s.

“I broke the story about Dick Lee marrying Jacintha Abisheganaden – my editor couldn’t believe it,” she laughs.

Today, Stefanie is a regular voice on Linkedin, where nearly 30,000 followers read her takes on current events, community issues and government policies.

“I like writing. I’ve always written since I was a little girl, so I guess social media gives me a platform to put those thoughts out there. People ask me, ‘How can you spend so much time writing on Linkedin?’ I’m like, no – literally, when I’m waiting for a meeting to start, I spend 10 minutes, I write it, and then I post. And that’s it. Whatever is happening today, if I think it’s relevant to the business community, I just say something,” she says matter-of-factly.

One particular post generated intense debate about the victim-shaming attitudes that persist today. Earlier this year, Stefanie had called out comments made by then Law Society vice-president Chia Boon Teck, who questioned the victim’s actions in the case involving a former Wah!Banana actor convicted of rape.

Her post struck a nerve. It even prompted a response from Law and Home Affairs Minister K. Shanmugam, who wrote on Facebook that he was “surprised” to read Chia’s remarks: “Even though the High Court had found that the victim was ‘an unusually convincing witness’, whose evidence was ‘internally and externally consistent’.”

Stefanie recalls the moment she first saw the comments. “My husband came and showed [Chia’s comments] to me. I looked at it and I was appalled. My work at SHE sensitises me to the trauma that sexual assault victims feel.“I know that victim-shaming is part of the problem... Now, I think if it had been a private citizen, I might have just said I don’t agree with this.”

For Stefanie, the issue was that the comment came from a leader of the Bar. An office bearer, she says, cannot flout the standards the courts expect of lawyers or disregard basic human decency. To her, the remark was plainly inappropriate – and she wasn’t about to let it slide.

“If you were just a lawyer, I would just tell you how wrong it is. But if you are an office holder, you cannot (do so) in that capacity, because then people will think you represent what lawyers think. And I thought that was wrong. It put my whole industry into disrepute.

“So I said what I said,” she explains.

Fighting for the community

Stefanie shares that she was recently called “divisive” by a public figure – a label she admits she doesn’t care much about. “I don’t know if I should take it as a badge of honour or criticism,” she says with a shrug. “I’m happy to be criticised for my views.”

Her stance is straightforward: If she feels strongly about something, she speaks up. For her, that means engaging, rather than retreating.

“I don’t just look for an echo chamber. I think it’s important to have a real conversation – not to have people say, ‘I agree with you, Steff.’ I can grow and learn from that conversation, and it’s a net win for me.”

She adds that many Singaporeans actually share similar views on issues, but hold back out of fear of being doxxed, cancelled or publicly attacked.

“If you see bad actions taking place and you don’t do anything about it, you are part of the problem. Like they say, all it takes for evil to flourish is for the good to do nothing. And I don’t want to be that person,” she says.

And Stefanie walks the talk. Despite her busy schedule, she’s actively involved in community work. SHE has made significant progress in establishing support for victims of online harms – a cause Stefanie embraced when she was on the steering committee for the Ministry of Law.

Through SHE, which includes Shecares@SCWO, Asia’s first one-stop support centre for online harms, she continues to push for legal reform and trauma-informed systems.

In November, Parliament passed the Online Safety (Relief and Accountability) Bill, paving the way for a one-stop Online Safety Commission (OSC) by June 2026, with powers to order the swift removal of harmful content.

The OSC will be able to direct platforms, group administrators, content creators, Internet service providers or app stores to take down harmful posts, restrict offenders’ accounts or allow victims to post a reply.

Stefanie points out that SHE’s work has been brought up in parliament: “Which just shows how there’s universal recognition of this need, universal recognition of the assistance required, and how the harms have developed beyond the available avenues of recourse.

“It’s very rewarding to see your work validated,” she adds.What draws her to the issue of online harms? Stefanie doesn’t miss a beat.“I could give you the PC answer about how it’s a growing scourge,” she says.

“But the truth is, I tend to take on causes that appear on my radar. When someone comes to me and says, ‘Steff, there’s this need – can you help?’ and it aligns with my principles, I step up.”

Other causes Stefanie has championed over the years include her work as a governing council member of Dover Park Hospice from 2007 to 2012, where she helped shift public attitudes toward end-of-life care by emphasising dignity and meaningful final days.

During the Covid-19 crisis in 2020, she also catalysed the Sayang Sayang Fund with #GivingBackFoundation and the Community Foundation of Singapore, seeding it with a $20,000 donation that sparked a ripple effect – growing the fund to more than $9.6 million and supporting over 359,000 people, from healthcare workers who received taxi vouchers to vulnerable seniors, families and children in need of financial and meal assistance.

“It’s not like I went out looking for causes,” she explains. “It’s more like the cause picked me. I don’t wake up and think, ‘Oh, I feel like empowering women today,’ and then go do it. I’m not so arrogant as to assume I have that skill, or that just because I champion something, anything good will come out of it.”

Another cause Stefanie feels deeply about is the welfare of foreign domestic workers in Singapore – an issue that became personal when her housekeeper stepped in to care for her young son when he had a bout of fever.

She recalls coming home late after a long negotiation: “I was so grateful. If I didn’t have a great housekeeper looking after him, I would have been so stressed. But there I was, walking in at 9.30pm, able to take a shower before tending to him. That support made all the difference.”

Stefanie realised that her peace of mind came at a cost to her housekeeper, who had no family of her own here. “My household is looked after because Singaporeans have the economic ability to do this – but it’s at the expense of their home lives,” she reflects.

That awareness shifted something in her. “So I asked myself, what is it that foreign domestic workers need? What can I do?”

The answer was action. She started the ball rolling for the law firm to take on pro bono work for local migrant worker charities such as Humanitarian Organisation for Migration Economics (Home), TWC2 and It’s Raining Raincoats, taking on litigation cases against Singapore employers “who are very bad actors” – those who withhold wages or deliberately underpay their migrant staff.

“Our pro bono team will go and fight that case in court,” she says. “We hope that if you do one case – one with public interest – it gets discussed. At least that employer learns that they can’t treat one worker badly... And other employers will think twice before trying to get away with it.”

Part of Stefanie’s conviction to help others comes from a deep sense of gratitude for what she calls the “birth lottery” – the simple fortune of having been born in Singapore, with the opportunities and stability that it offers.

“I’m so lucky, and if I don’t do something with it, then I’m not being a good steward of those opportunities,” she says.

That sense of stewardship doesn’t end with policy work or pro bono cases; it runs through her home life and relationships too.

Bonding over acts of service

The TSMP office in Raffles Place is lined with pop and street art from Stefanie’s personal collection. These bold, graphic pieces echo the themes she gravitates towards: strength, law and justice.

Her personal office, however, tells a different story. A striking Marilyn Monroe painting anchors the wall behind her desk, and the space is softened by a palette of white, purple and pink. On the walls and shelves are photos of her son, Jonathan, who is now 26 years old.

She shares a close relationship with her only child, a bond shaped in part by years of bringing him along for volunteer work when he was young.

One of Stefanie’s fondest memories is taking her son to Uzbekistan on a Smile Asia mission when he was 15. He befriended an 11-year-old local boy waiting hopefully for an arm operation, bonding over football in the hospital’s grim, crowded corridors. When the team finally operated on the boy, Jonathan cried as they left.

“I think that gave him a real sense of what volunteering means,” Stefanie says. Today, he still volunteers quietly with friends. “He’s very chill that way – and yes, we’re very close.”

Now, Stefanie enjoys playing mahjong with Jonathan, a game that she taught him years ago. Their mahjong table has become a gathering point for Jonathan’s friends too, who come not just to play, but to seek her advice.

“I’m their first port of call,” she says. “‘Auntie, my husband this… my business partner that…’” She loves the sense of being connected to her son’s world in a real, unforced way. Motherhood, she admits, has required a complete reset. “You have to switch your mothering code – from shepherding to walking alongside.”

Every few years, she writes Jonathan a long letter, including one when he was 17, reminding him of all the things she appreciated about him, beyond the typical teenage scoldings. For years, she wasn’t even sure he read them. Then one day he told her, “Mum, that letter you wrote me? I read it again. It moved me to tears.”

When she talks about Jonathan, her hopes are simple. “I want him to love the Lord, and I want him to be a good person,” she says.

Achievements don’t matter to her. “My kid’s a hustler – he’ll get by. He makes friends easily. I’m not worried about that. I just want him to be that person.

Leading as an “accidental lawyer”

Calling herself an “accidental lawyer”, Stefanie never saw law as a calling when she enrolled at the National University of Singapore in 1989 – it was simply the most sensible option available.

“There was one university, you went to the best course you could get, and then you found the best job you could get,” she says. “I never really had the chance to think about whether this was what I wanted to do.”

Accidental or not, Stefanie has since built a successful career at TSMP Law Corporation. The firm has grown into a practice of more than 80, recognised for its strengths in mergers and acquisitions, commercial litigation, international arbitration, corporate governance and more.

TSMP may be medium-sized, but it punches above its weight in the deals it handles. Stefanie’s career highlights include acting for HNA Holding Group in its $1.4 billion voluntary general cash offer for CWT Limited, one of Singapore’s largest logistics providers.

Following the high-profile collapse of Hin Leong Trading and its founder, oil tycoon OK Lim, government-owned Jurong Port acquired the family’s 41 per cent stake in Universal Terminal.

The firm advised Jurong Port on the transaction, which was later named Best M&A Deal 2021 at The Asset Triple A Awards – an industry benchmark recognising excellence across banking, finance, treasury, and the capital markets.

TSMP has also led high-profile litigation matters, most recently acting for Dr Goh Jin Hian (former Prime Minister Goh Chok Tong’s son) in successfully defending a US$150 million claim for alleged breaches of directors’ duties and fiduciary duties.

Her leadership and track record earned her recognition as one of IFLR1000 Women Leaders in 2021, an accolade reserved for top-tier lawyers who helm complex, high-value transactions.

Yet, she jokes, the term “imposter syndrome” was “created for me”. “I used to feel it all the time. I’d walk into a room and think, ‘I’d better say less – people aren’t going to like me.’ That was my default setting,” she recalls.

“That’s when you’re the centre of your own world, thinking only about you, you, you.”

Even today, Stefanie admits she remains her own harshest critic – she still battles imposter syndrome, and finds it hard to accept praise.

“When people say nice things about me, I kind of wonder who they’re talking to – maybe someone behind me, but not me,” she says.

Her SHE team often calls her out on it: “They’ll say, ‘You’re out here empowering women, and yet you’re being so unrealistic about yourself.’ And I’m like, ‘I know… I need to learn to do better.’”

Stefanie’s mindset shifted when she made a deliberate decision not to spiral into negativity. Instead of letting imposter thoughts take over, she chose to redirect that energy outwards.

“You can listen to it and be paralysed, or you can nudge its harsh voice aside and go do something for somebody else,” she says. “So I choose the latter.”

When asked how she defines “enough”, Stefanie doesn’t hesitate. “Oh, it’s never enough,” she says. “I’m not here to tick awards boxes – certainly not financial ones. If I can still do something for somebody else, then whatever I’ve done today isn’t enough, because there’s more to do tomorrow.”

For her, the question isn’t about personal achievement, but purpose. It’s why she rejects the idea of measuring her life in accolades.

“I don’t have a concept of ‘enough’, because I don’t have a concept of filling in all the blanks of awards and achievements. If there’s one more person I can help, then let’s do that.”

At TSMP, Stefanie runs mentoring circles for women, which are usually informal gatherings over dinner.

“We sit down and I tell them, ‘Whatever happens here stays here. Once we leave, we don’t have to talk about it again. Now, tell me what I can do, tell me what struggles you’re facing’,” she shares.

One exchange in particular stood out: A young partner, four months pregnant and due early next year, was preparing yet another business development trip to India. Stefanie pulled her aside. “You don’t have to go for this one,” she told her. “You’ve done the last few.”

Learning to lead, Stefanie explained, isn’t only about stepping up – it’s also about knowing when to step back.

“If you take on everything yourself, it’s not sustainable,” she says. “Sometimes, it’s about giving women permission and licence to do something other than what is their natural instinct, or what society has taught them is ‘their place’.”

Women, she observes, often carry an ingrained sense of obligation. This habitual sense of not letting anyone down shapes how they move through the world.

“We need to learn to make better decisions, so we can become more well-rounded people,” she says. “And if we don’t learn to decide for ourselves, we’re also teaching the younger ones after us that they can’t decide for themselves either.”

She’s been told these conversations are transformative, because they “unlock the way you think”. And, she adds, she has had to apply that same advice to herself.

Over the past seven years, Stefanie has pushed herself into situations that once would have paralysed her – live radio segments where she blanked on the question midway, public panels where she stumbled through answers.

“But you challenge yourself, and then you do it,” she says. “And when the SHE opportunity came along, I challenged myself, and I did it.”

Those moments, uncomfortable as they were, forged what she now calls a new iteration of herself. “It’s been a kind of a new version of Steff,” she reflects. “I’ve been calling it Steff 2.0.”

She even began signing her name “Steff” – a small but deliberate marker of ownership. “It reminds me that this version is mine,” she says.

“Not the version that met people’s expectations or did what others wanted me to do.”

PHOTOGRAPHY Athirah Annissa
ART DIRECTION Ray Ticsay
HAIR & MAKEUP Adelene Siow
COORDINATION Chelsia Tan