Around mid-November, I read an article about how a writer was able to make $4K a month writing on Medium. I was astonished. I had been writing for most of my life and barely made a fraction of that in months.
Of course, the article was well-written, straight to the point and its takeaways slapped me in the face like bugs on a windshield during a road trip across the prairies; I wasn’t writing enough, not even close to what the writer was talking about. …
I am guilty of being overly critical. It’s an unfortunate behaviour of recovering perfectionists.
I’ve been that toxic asshole who was constantly ragging on others, pointing out their weaknesses and offering “solutions” to non-existent problems.
I was always comparing…apples to oranges to bananas to kiwis.
I looked for flaws before beauty. I looked for what went wrong before what went right. I’d complain and complain and complain about how horrible people were. There wasn’t any good left in the world and there was never enough for everyone. Scarcity dominated my paradigm. …
I didn’t enjoy school. I wrote an entire article about how I hated it even though I was good at it and concluded that doing well at something doesn’t mean you enjoy it.
From depression, anxiety, self-harm and an eating disorder, I was a mess. Being unpopular, having few friends, acne, braces, and glasses were just the tip of the iceberg when it came to those teen years. Not to mention the worst part — the anxiety-inducing exams.
However, like many Asian kids, I trudged along, finishing high school with scholarships to University and furthering my studies at Grad School. …
I’ve been blogging since 2017 and it’s been quite the experience to put words onto digital paper, sharing my personal stories and insight. From keeping a diary to entering short story contests during grade school, writing has been in my blood since I could remember.
Owning a website where I can freely create as I please, no holds barred, is incredibly rewarding. Self-publishing allows me to write, record, film whatever floats my boat and deliver it to the world with the quick press of a button. Anyone with an Internet connection can read, watch and listen to my content.
As an Asian female, I’m grateful I live in a country (Canada) and grew up during a time where I have the opportunity to do this without having to jump through hoops or cross any red tape. I feel empowered to have a voice in this world even if only 1 out of the 7.8 billion people hear me. …
I just finished drafting up an article when my son wakes up crying from his nap. I carry him downstairs and we start our mother and son dance party. He’s 1 so it’s more like I dance and he wanders around the carpet while I try not to step on him.
I press play on my favourite BTS dance workout and we start bopping around like silly monkeys. …
Find out what it means to me
Cue Aretha, please.
As a teen, my dad and I were like oil and water. I was never Daddy’s little girl. We would often fight about cleaning my room. It always started with him moving my stuff and me not being able to find it in my room.
I would yell at him for invading my privacy. Then he would say that I didn’t 尊重 (respect) him.
Then I would talk back and say that he didn’t 尊重 (respect) me. …
When I was in my early 20’s, some of the simplest decisions would stress me out.
There were days when I couldn’t decide if I should wear blue, black, or gray pants because I honestly thought wearing the wrong color would ruin my day.
Deciding what to eat would often take hours because my head would go into overdrive, weighing all the options, taking into consideration my diet, my cravings, my budget, what I have or haven’t tried, what’s trending, “what was that place my friend recommended again?”, “let me check Yelp” and so forth.
That luxury of having all these choices was actually a burden for me. *Cough*… “First World Problems”. …
The other day, I was rolling around the floor with my daughter when she picked up one of my husband’s lame CPA magazines and chucks it at me.
She proceeds to grab one of her own books and starts reading. I get it…I begin reading.
I started to peruse an article about spending habits (you know because accountants love all things related to money). In it, it said that FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) is an actual reason why millennials overspend.
Are you kidding me?
People my age spend money because they have a fear of missing out on what?
Like that beautifully pictured cappuccino and notebook placed precisely on the edge of a table? …
Doing yoga seems like you’re joining a trendy cult but it’s not. Here’s how all that downward dog was worth it for someone who was a skeptic in the beginning.
I don’t even consider myself yogini-ish. I don’t know all the Sanskrit words for the different positions nor can I do most of them impeccably. I can’t pretzel my way out of a vent or backbend to see what my butt looks like without a mirror.
I’m a busy working mom of 2 who does yoga at home 3–4 times a week. I stream a video, follow it for 30 minutes and I’m done. …
For years, I thought I needed to get along with my parents, that I needed to constantly strive for their acceptance and approval. I idolized my relationship with them, thinking our interactions didn’t always have to end up with disappointment or hurt feelings.
However, I’ve come to terms that I don’t have to like them but I can still love them. I can learn to accept them for who they are.
To be honest, my parents are limited in their desire to learn and grow. They are human, an older human than me. …