Welcome
Allow me to introduce myself.
Writing has always been my way back home: a place where words flow as naturally as thoughts, where I could express myself in ways I never knew how to say aloud. I suffer from intense boughts from imposter syndrome; I wonder if I am smart at all. However, I always knew I was good at writing, that it came naturally to me.
But somewhere along the way, I lost that spark. I followed numbers instead of words, choosing to study math. Practical, measurable, logical. I fell headfirst into the tired trope of the STEM student who can’t even write a simple email with stumbling over their sentences. In the pursuit of solutions, my love for stories drifted quietly to the sidelines, gathering dust like books left unopened too long.
I miss it. The reckless joy of spilling thoughts into ink. The freedom to pour out tangled emotions without worrying if they added up. I miss me. Writing has always been the way I see myself most clearly. The words pour out of me without inhibitions. When I have pen to paper or my hands on a keyboard, it feels like my subconcious is taking control. Writing allowed me to escape life and understand it simultaneously. And lately, there’s been so much everything… an ache that hums through the cracks of my days, a melancholy that paints my skies in the deepest shades of blue and indigo watercolour.
This blog is my attempt to find my way back. Here, I’ll collect pieces of myself: the dancer who believes movement is a universal language, the poet who seeks truth between the lines, the dreamer who finds fashion in everything from thrift-store gems to haute couture fantasies. These are the things that make my heart beat a little louder, that stir me awake when the world feels distant and heavy.
I am not always happy, and I don’t want to pretend otherwise. In fact, recently, I think sorrow and despair is the only emotion I am capable of feeling. This space is as much about the sadness as it is about the joy: a place to explore, unpack, and maybe even make peace with the weight I carry. I hope that through words, I can learn how to feel lighter, or at least how to carry it more gently. And perhaps, in sharing these pieces of myself, I’ll find something I’ve been searching for all along: a way back to happiness, or at least to understanding.
Now, a bit about me:
I have a little sister who is my favourite person on earth. I think I am the archetypal eldest immigrant daughter—filled with woe, constant thrumming anxiety, and a nagging search for perfection.
I am so passionate about my favourite colour (baby pink) that it’s a personality trait. I’ve been told my room looks like a coquette unicorn threw up cotton candy all over the walls, which I take as honour.
I collect vinyl records and CDs like I’m getting paid for it (and not the other way around). I love my collection dearly and am so obsessed with my mint green jukebox-esque record player.
I just finished my second year of university, studying mathematics, actuarial science, and statistics. I’m currently taking a year off my studies to complete an internship abroad. I feel so unbelievably homesick, but I’m excited about this opportunity.
I am 20 going on 80. My favourite hobbies include crocheting, reading, and walking at a leisurely pace. I love to end my day with a warm cup of tea at 10 pm. And you can always find me bundled up in soft knitwear.
If you’re reading this, welcome. I’m glad you’re here.