when you really want to burn in flames

I'm in a great need of an emotional break.

I've come to realize how easily I am able to ruin my own life and the friendships that I have with people. I've carried a long string of broken friendships with scars that I still keep till this very day. I was confronted with my demon - to be honest, someone pointed it out to me. I feel like whatever I touch turns into death. I thought things were going great. I thought life was finally picking up. I thought that my ten years of psychological and emotional suffering were over.

I guess not.

I am broken. I have a warped view of myself. Sure, I have evolved but I still carry my pain despite how much I chose to move away from it. I have horrible self-esteem and people seem to dislike me after being friends with me. And I can see why.

I'm not a good friend. I'm insecure, prone to jealousy, bitterness and depression. I constantly compare, I constantly feel like I'm not good enough or that I fall short. I do so much to counter the pain I feel, but at the end of the day, nothing works. I constantly feel that people are out to get me and I'm starting to believe that I could be right.

As for my relationship with my boyfriend, I just want to say that he is a beautiful soul. He deserves so much better. He is the best boyfriend any girl could have. He will love you with the kind of selflessness that will make you question your existence (I'm not being dramatic). He has flaws but he pushes them aside, literally drops everything, to come to your aid. He loves, perseveres and cares so much. I've never known love until I met him. I'd like to think that perhaps this is how God designed love to be: healthy, selfless sacrificial and enduring.

I've decided to slowly detach from my surroundings. I've neglected the state of my heart and mental health. I really do need help. After all the friendship problems and the pain that I had to get past, I think I realized that I don't need friends and I think I would do a huge favour to everyone if no one chooses to be my friend. Really.

I'm so fucked up that even I can't stand myself.

le nouvel esprit: taking responsibility

i play the blame game but after a while, being the victim gets pretty exhausting. you continue to find reasons as to why you're the victim and you find yourself coming up with more excuses to stay in the 'victim' mindset, instead of breaking out into an uncomfortable place of victory.

taking responsibility seems like a hard thing.
i mean, i was only twelve.
what does responsibility even mean at that age?

well, as an adult now, this is how i will choose to take responsibility.

i am not responsible or to be blamed for being bullied - it was an insecurity on her part. how i choose to view the situation now (as an adult), is my responsibility.
i've chosen to forgive her and i have no bad feelings whatsoever whenever our paths cross.
in fact, i feel sorry for her.
i feel sorry that she couldn't (or cannot) deal with her insecurities that she now tries to find some sort of approval on social media.
i feel sorry for her that she still puts people down, chooses to hang out with pretty people and seems to have trouble managing her mood, especially in public.
i feel sorry for her that she chooses to be rude to older people even at her age (she's 29 now) and attention-seeking through her countless 'i am so pretty' Facebook posts and frequent self-flaunting behaviour.

i take responsibility for the fact that i was helpless at twelve years old and though i sought help, there was no help given. thanks to a solid background in psychology, i can take responsibility in the fact that it has help me understand why our Asian mindset is so averse to bullying and mental health problems. i can take responsibility by forgiving her, by learning from the scars i gained from an eating disorder because of being bullied and moving on.

here's another situation that i will take responsibility for: the bitterness that came from leaving the people in my ex-church. 

i take responsibility in the fact that because of my low self-esteem, i was desperate for friends and attached myself to people who didn't care about me. they made it clear through their actions (and lack of actions), their hurtful words and their constant put-downs.

i take responsibility for my portion in all the gossiping and manipulating that were taking place in the church. i should have assessed the situation at that time and stayed out of it, but i didn't. i didn't have to join in. i didn't have to take sides. i didn't have to cave in to the massive 'groupthink' that was going on. for that, i take responsibility for my words and for not being wise enough.

i take responsibility for the fact that i was close to people who were not close to me which made me have high/unrealistic expectations of the friendship. i invested in them, but they did not and that's okay. i should have had the foresight to be intuitive in how people were interacting with me, but i didn't. i just wanted to be loved, accepted and approved. and for that, i take responsibility for how i contributed to the situation. i can't blame them anymore - people are fucked up, so am I.

that felt good.
releasing and admitting really felt good.


so, how do i move on from this?
- continue taking care of myself and affirming myself daily of my accomplishments.
- intuitively assess if a friendship is good or bad for me. obey my instincts. 
- stop blaming them. it's over, it's in a part of the past that has made me stronger, resilient and more compassionate.

le nouvel esprit: the rhythm of self-healing

yesterday, i saw a clinical psychologist. i went over to meet her for an interview on a story that i'm currently researching on for a women's health and lifestyle publication. she asked me why i was writing this story and i told her everything. it ended up becoming a heartfelt hour of therapy, something that was long overdue (according to her).

i was emotionally bullied when i was twelve.
it was that defining season in my life that destroyed my self-esteem and worldview.
i carried the pain with me for over eight years and it ruined my self-worth and my relationships with people. one pile of garbage turned into ten piles and more.

the outcome of yesterday's session was that i am still not over it. i am still carrying the repercussions, i am still carrying the hurt, i am still trapped in emotional bondage.
sure, i'm 24 years old and i should have gotten a grip. well, i have not. i thought i had gotten over it but the pain is still seen in my eyes, in my upper back and in my relationships.

after a long night of thinking, i decided to embark on a rhythmic process of self-healing and made the decision to document the journey here. it's gonna be raw, personal and uncomfortable for some, but this is something that will be good for me and hopefully, good for those who silently battle with the effects of being emotionally bullied.

i've had a wonderful journey of interconnected splashes but i think, this time around, it will be le nouvel esprit. 

when you're ready to acknowledge that love is eternal

I don't take a couple seriously during the first month of their relationship, sometimes even the first year. I've been so jaded by my own experiences and the experiences of others when it comes to falling into new relationships; pics go up on Instagram with #relationshipgoals as their mantra, you see the presence of the other half more and more and get used to them.
And then it happens, the time when the other half disappears after a year of two because 'it was just not working out.'

Shakespeare was right when he penned that infamous line in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' that the course of true love never did run smooth. I know that as a fact because I've been in a relationship for seven years. For the life of me, I cannot believe that we made it to seven years. A lot of things can happen and has happened in seven years. I didn't think that I would be in a long term relationship. Ever.

I know how fleeting the honeymoon phase can be, where the relationship is 'beyond amazing' and where 'he/she just gets me', because I had that too. I know how frustrating the comfortable phase can be because 'he/she doesn't excite me anymore' and 'all we do is just Netflix and chill and eat and repeat' , because I had that too. I know how heartbreaking fights can be, especially when it leads to a breakup, only to realize that you've made a mistake, and then get back together again, and the cycle continues until you:
a) decides that it's ON and it's gonna be ON for life
b) 'it was just not working out' and go your separate ways

We were having a tough time and that looming question came about: 'what have we accomplished in seven years?'. The thought loomed upon me every single day, following me like a dark shadow, tormenting my judgement. We fought and fought about it, me accusing that 'nothing has happened' and him saying 'so much has happened'. Perhaps that's where our personalities meet the breaking point: I am someone who is out to achieve, achieve and achieve to the point that I lose my memory of the accomplishments that have been made whereas on his part, he carefully notes the milestones, remembers them, cherishes them and does bring it up to me from time to time and relish in the sweet victories. He celebrates them, whereas I'm too busy getting a trophy that I'll never get.

I came to that point where I asked myself a questioned that had ungratefully repeated myself in my mind: 'Is he worth it?'
I tried to convince myself that I was better off as a single lady, running off to accomplish the gold medal in my career, making my footprints known in different parts of the world, embracing my friends and family and meeting so many different people but as I thought deeply, I started hating myself for ever asking if he was worth it.

one by one, the veil was lifted 

off my foggy mind:

when he lifted me off my crying fetal position on the floor in my room, put me on his lap and cradled me in his arms (like how a mother holds her child) when I cried because I was either battling 'the nasty voices in my head' or 'dealing with the trauma of having to cut off from a group of people'.

when he bought me that dress, that painting project, that plate of sushi, that movie, that book, that moisturizer, that burger, that cocktail because he knew that I wanted it but couldn't afford it because I was being paid pittance at work though I insisted and insisted that I pay and threw a fit of buying it all myself and not wanting him to buy it for me.

when he comforted me by the side of Jalan Ampang on the way to the Intermark because my article was rejected and I cried because I was so tired of dealing with so much rejection over having put so much effort and heart into my work + feeling that my career wasn't progressing (he knew how much a creative career meant to me).

when he took charge of our recent trip and handled 80% of the load and struggled with speaking and reading in Mandarin because I knew no shit and I was useless in trying to communicate with locals on train directions, food prices, etc.

when he made me cycle across the paddy fields at 4.30am because he knew how much I'd regret it if I don't wake up to see the sunrise with him in a different country.

when I had another crying sesh at the bus stop along Jalan Raja Laut at 6.30am because I had enough of my job and of my life situation and he walked all the way there from Masjid Jamek just to see me and comfort me though I refused and refused and told him to continue his way to work and though I insisted that I will get a grip and go to work.

when he was in the hospital for a week because of a bad case of dengue and he just laid there and slept on his bed and I watched his frail body and hoped that he wouldn't leave me because his platelet count was so low and he was so weak and there had been cases of people dying of dengue and I would not be able to take it if ever he were to leave me permanently.

when he was there for all the major milestones in my life: when I battled and overcame an eating disorder and depression, got my SPM results, went to college, got my driver's license, graduated from university, said goodbye to religion, traveled out of the country for the first time, started my 'real adult' job.

when he promised me that he would love me and fight for me seven years ago and never broke that promise.


how stupid of me to think that I could ever, for one moment, think that he wasn't worth it. To think that I was better off without him, to think that he was just a burden, an item on my to-do list, when truth to be told, I am nothing without him.

i was loved with unconditional love because he loved me and did not expect anything in return. For someone like me whose emotions and ambitions can get the best of her, who can break out into an ugly-crying-Kim-Kardashian emoji, who can lose her mind over things that don't really matter, he was still patient, kind, giving, loving and he never, ever, kept a record of my wrongdoings or spoke to me rudely or raised his voice (okay, just twice) or ever hit me. I should be ashamed of myself.

so yeah, after seven years of being in a relationship, i now know that love is something that requires sacrifice. love is being open to your partner's weaknesses during the first month of the relationship, love is admitting that you were wrong and that you're sorry because you hurt your partner. love is not that boundless #relationshipgoals posts on social media or the public 'month-sarry' posts to show that your love life is exciting. love is admitting that your partner isn't perfect but you choose to love/him her everyday. love is also knowing when to let go of a partner because you're toxic and stifling his/her growth as an individual. love is not selfish but always protects, always trusts, always hopes and always perseveres. 


true love never fails. 
I had the chance to partake the joys and tests of true love.
I hope that you'll have the same, too because when you're with the right person, it is all worth it.

when you need to leave in order to find

some people envy me for my job:

wow, you get to travel the country for free

you mean you've gone for four six-star hotel buffets in two weeks?

OMG you partied with Patricia K??!  

omg you get all this cool free stuff and free food!

you go for free five-star spas?!!

YOU STAYED IN XXX HOTEL & RESORT?!

i have a list to brag about but i'll stop.

with all these fine things in life that come free to me, how is it that I feel so emotionally and mentally jaded? how is it that I feel like I'm imprisoned by my perceived idea of passion? how is it that I could stand shitty pay, bad management and the politics of the magazine publishing industry?
how long will I be bribed with the cool free stuff, the lure of expensive paid-for 'work-vacations', the fine dining and the drinks with big names in the media & entertainment industry?

is this all worth it?

which is why, in the heat of my mental torture, I booked a flight to Queensland three days before flying and chose to drop everything and go. Despite being paid what I am being paid, I was so glad to see a hefty lot of money (i couldn't believe my eyes when I saw my bank account) and I knew there and then that I needed this. I did it again. I funded myself for international travel TWICE in the span of five months with more to last when I return. I think that's an achievement - i'm currently having a glass of bubbly to celebrate that. 

waking up to a new environment helped me see things in a different way. i saw a bigger world, i saw a different side of me, i saw and understood more that what my feelings could handle. I saw the good and bad of a new country, i saw how other people went about with their day-to-day duties and I saw how the outdoors played a big impact in keeping life healthy and sane. I spoke to people and saw how life can be simple. 

from a young age, i've always wanted to work for a fashion magazine. growing up, i had a terrible fashion sense (mostly due to my depression/extremely low self-image) but I knew the details of what went on during fashion week, during the cruise shows, the metiers d'art, the process of coming up with a haute couture collection and keeping up with trends. I read extensively on designers, SS/FW collections, and built mood boards in my free time. I never revealed this to anyone because I knew that I was gonna face a hell lot of backlash because people saw how horribly I looked and people perceived that I would crumble in such a superficial industry. 

Well, I'm glad that I now live and breathe my own sense of fashion while keeping my shell in tact - the world of media production has definitely taught me the art of having the heart of stone and of flesh, of when to be real and when to be fake, of being resilient, persistent and thick-skinned. 

I did go for an interview with a prestigious fashion magazine but after weighing its pros and cons, i turned them down. I remember sending the withdrawal email to the editor-in-chief and laughing to myself for being so crazy for turning down what I've always wanted. I've wanted this for the last 11 years. 

Lost and dazed, i continued this travel writing stint - i loved it and i hated it because it wasn't what i wanted. So I kept doing it till I couldn't do it anymore. The breaking point was the time where I cried like shit at the bus station along Jalan Raja Laut at 6am (no thanks to the stupid traffic), wondering why all this had to happen, wondering why I didn't just study to be a doctor or an accountant, wondering why i didn't just join the corporate industry, wondering why i had all these (useless) dreams. That's when I knew that I needed to get out of this hell hole, this shit of a country and the horrible situation and leave. Even for a day, even for a week. 

Finally digging in to the Queenslander life for a bit (oh god, Coles is the best thing ever!), I began to realign my thoughts. Most of my thoughts drifted to the fact that I don't want to live a conventional life confined in a box and 50% of my thoughts were about my career. 

I love fashion & lifestyle and I can write, but magazine publishing is an industry that will not thrive any longer. I forced myself to think out of the box and after looking at a portfolio of advertorials that I've done for big companies and at the PDF copies of the fashion shoots that I've assisted and organized, 

it suddenly dawned upon me that there is a brimming industry that can allow me to combine my interest and skills. I have since applied for a few positions (all with a much better pay/benefits + being able to do what I want to do) and I hope to hear back soon once I reach home. I have my fingers crossed and a level of determination that I know will keep me searching and putting myself out there till I reap gold. 

Also, I want to live a life of travel and experience new cultures. Youth offers me the opportunity to see the world and I want to embrace that. I have to admit that I was jealous when my sister got offered to study overseas. Between the two of us, I've always been the one who had eyes on living abroad, studying abroad and traveling. I used to read up so much on this topic and did my research on opportunities and had my heart set to live abroad. I was terribly sad, but I couldn't allow that sadness to stop me. once again, i told myself that there's always a way. 

I've been looking at a few holiday work visa programmes, overseas job opportunities and other schemes like couchsurfing, volunteering abroad and I'm so thankful that the internet has allowed traveling to be easier. I hope to embark on more adventures (soon) and have the experience of living abroad even if it's just for 6-9 months. I also realized that a better paying job will allow me to have enough to travel and do save up for some future plans ;) 

I want to give back. 

This is probably the most important thing that I want to do with my life. I spent 11 years of my life bound in a kind of emotional sickness that robbed me of life and clarity. In that decade, there were people who invested in me, whether it was through a listening ear, a hug, a simple friendship or kind acts. I want to be compassionate, empathetic, helpful and kind to people. 

I know how horrible life can be and with what little I can do, I want to make the world a better place. I don't just want to give back to humanity, but to the environment. Even if it's through recycling, preserving trees, petitioning against destroying heritage buildings and abstaining from supporting evil practices like poaching. I want to genuinely help and just so you know, the idea of 'helper's high' is a sickening idea. We help because we want to help, we give because we feel compelled to give, we shouldn't give and help just to get an obnoxious endorphin rush. 

I think more people should spare some time to give back, even it's in the form of teaching, cleaning up (gotong-royong) or something simple as helping a friend in need. 

In order to achieve something that you've never achieved before, you need to do something that you've never done before. I'm ready to embark on that, wholeheartedly. 

when simplicity leaves you speechless

There's so much more to simplicity than what most of us tend to perceive, just like how the concept behind creativity has been theorized, tested, ruminated and sought-upon for as long as humans were given the ability to assimilate information. I've given the idea of simplicity much accolade but I never truly lived it until, just recently (like really really recent ~ two months? ~)

sometimes, the act of simplicity can be as simple as taking refuge in a newly cleaned and redecorated room; I spent the whole of Christmas morning and boxing day getting rid of stuff (nine years of junk, to be exact), moving furniture, investing in comfy bed sheets, pillow cases, a book case and adding enhancers like scented candles and reed diffusers to liven up my new space. 

I've always loved the idea of big spaces, clutter-free zones, quiet corners of refuge and turning the old into the new. Much of the furniture has been with me since the day I was born, but having them in my room gives it a rustic, vintage feel that seems to complement whatever scent I'm wearing on a particular day. Also, I would feel a little out of place is everything was out of an IKEA catalogue.

I find the process of searching for reed diffusers really simple and calming. I tend to nitpick over scents that bring a subtle hue or freshness or a drop of a bon vivant rigor until I find the perfect scent that resembles the moment; I sometimes find myself into lighter tones like kaffir lime and honeysuckle and there are times that I crave for something full-bodied, like whiffs of plum and cranberry. I don't always set up my reed diffusers because the idea of having them frequently takes the joy out of the process just like how slurping on ramen everyday can make me sick to my stomach, to the point that I might swear off it for a year (I've had this situation with char kuey teow and pan mee, so nope, not repeating that again). 

My mom thinks I'm nuts coz I seem to take so much joy in setting up my scented candles (currently, I possess a stash of vanilla, honey and cranberry) that I light up when I feel like I need to unwind or if I feel a sense of achievement after having a productive day at work. Sometimes, it's taking a long shower, complete with a loofah, with a luxurious lather of the Body Shop's green tea shower gel - that was bought on sale over Christmas - but like I said, these things aren't done everyday because I fear that the joy and excitement would extinguish as it becomes something familiar and mundane. 

It's really great to finally have a space where I can live, breathe and roll out my yoga mat whenever I feel like I need some time for ballerina crunches or a warrior pose. My well-being has improved greatly after clearing out the junk and making room for things that matter. I guess I have to say the same thing about my relationships with people. The process of detaching and discovering myself has truly been ethereal, humbling and peaceful. 

I feel fulfilled with the little things; lighting up my scented candle, brewing green tea for myself, cozying up in my boyfriend's arms, cycling or taking joy in food. I guess that's why the concept of hygge and wabi-sabi appeals so much to me. I could go on and on about them, in fact I'm surprised that my boyfriend is not sick of me endlessly ranting about it but has joined me in wanting to achieve a simple life together. One of the greatest things in life is having a best friend and lover who is on the same wavelength as you, helping you achieve your goals the same way you help achieve theirs. The differences between us are scarce but it brings diversity and interesting perspectives to the relationship which I cherish. 

Perhaps it's no coincidence that I titled this blog 'the beauty of simplicity' five years ago when I first started this online journal. I think there's more to the idea of simplicity than what I give credit for, and that's what drives me everyday to live, discover and explore more and more of it.  

when popping the cork becomes mainstream

Personal growth stuff that I'm grateful for in 2015:

I no longer battle with weight issues

Those who know me really know the emotionally depleting battle I went through where weight and appearance was concerned. I was constantly fluctuating between a healthy and unhealthy view of food, being overweight and underweight, starving and overindulging and having horrible views of how I looked. I dressed shabbily, stayed away from the spotlight and preferred to just be...ugly. Sounds incredibly weird but it's true.

This year, I found myself having a healthy relationship with food - eating good food for my body, which included full-fat treats like full cream milk, yogurt and cheese - and being physically active in different ways - hiking, biking, walking (and recently, futsal) - instead of over-gymming and strenuous exercise. The scale showed that I weighed 4 kg heavier than when I first started my day job but my clothes felt looser, I felt healthier and my muscles were leaner. I now enjoy sinful treats off and on while constantly having a balanced diet and just the right amount of physical activity. I no longer self-loathe or pick on parts of my body that I hate. I've even found my own sense of style and dress a lot better - I have to admit that dressing well and a fresh swipe of lipstick (and some eyeliner) can do wonders. I cant believe that I've reached the point where I'm just glad that God blessed me with the figure and face that I have today. All this would have sounded so absurd it to me a year ago if someone told me hey, you're beautiful! I now believe it, no kidding.

I don't need to live alone or travel alone to be constituted as 'independent'

For the longest time, I've always had this notion that an independent woman is one who has lived alone, traveled alone, journeyed alone, all the other 'alone' stuff you can think of. However, after traveling alone almost once-twice a month for a span of eight months (domestically for the job) and one international vacay with J, I found that I have always been an independent soul. I don't need to achieve something that is right in what I think (or thought) was right or what society thought was right. 

I always felt this burden that I had to move out of my parents' house and live alone in order to truly feel independent. I placed such emphasis on that fact that I lost track of all the other wonderful traits that made me the woman I am today. I've lived without my family for short periods of time (and more will come soon when my sister leaves for Australia and when my parents move in and out of the country) and I've proven that I can take care of myself. Despite having a boyfriend, I've always done things for myself and preferred to be alone. As of now, I'm enjoying the beauty of being inter-dependent and casual - taking the relationship one day at a time and loving our shared moments as well as my time alone. I now accept my circumstances as they are and make the best of it. Also, I've shed my feminist ideas on how a post-modern woman 'should' be like. I think the greatest form of feminism is when a woman can be herself; whether it's having a high-flying career and or being a fulfilled stay-at-home mum. 

I don't need to make homes out of people in order to be significant

Man, did I struggle with this. 

I had unhealthy relationships with people where I placed too much of myself, my time and my energies into people and unknowingly had unrealistically expected them to do the same for me. I ended up being heartbroken, often feeling used and damaged. I also held on to friendships that were toxic and people who were clearly bad for me. From a psychological perspective, I can understand why I did that. I recall countless nights where I laid on the floor and cried, deleting people from Facebook or from my contacts list and wondering what on earth was wrong with me. This year, I found myself having more self-confidence and being emotionally reserved where I carefully placed healthy boundaries and spent more time taking care of myself instead of constantly being fearful of what people thought about me. In turned, I developed a better sense of self and found myself feeling liberated that my significance is not dependent on how people treat me or perceive me.  I can 110% guarantee that (finally) I don't give two fucks about what people think about me. It's so liberating, really. Why hadn't I done this before?

I have a healthier view of social media

I spent half of 2015 away from Facebook and Instagram, two places where I felt emotionally exhausted looking at my feed, wondering why my life wasn't "perfect", why I didn't have an iPhone and why I didn't get as much likes/followers/comments as the next person. In that sense, I understood where Essena O'Neill was coming from. She received A LOT of backlash but after having conversations with people who were also part of giving her the backlash, I realized that these were the same people who had the same thoughts that Essena had months or weeks before that viral article went online. Hypocrite, much? Soon enough, everyone was siding Zack James, which to an extent, I agreed with his viewpoint and was thankful that he shed some light into the issue. At the end of the day, social media is how YOU make it up to be. Essena voiced out what many, MANY (including myself) people were feeling (whether they acknowledged it or not) and Zack James set the record straight with his viewpoints, which were great. I think everyone in the social mediasphere benefited from this, whether they chose to deny it or not.

Once I had healed from broken friendships and from leaving a horrible church, I rejoined Facebook and Instagram with a clearer view, did not re-add certain people, kept my friends/instagramer list short and felt so free to share nice moments and uplifting photos. I have to say that I really enjoy seeing whatever that's on my feed right now. I no longer have to 'unfollow updates' or unsubscribe while still being friends with someone.

In retrospect, 2015 was the year I truly lived; I popped a lot of cherries, had a lot of unusual firsts, learnt so much along the way (professionally and personally) and played around with different worldviews while learning new ways of living/doing things. I'm not into this 'new year, new me' crap but I cannot deny that I'm super excited for 2016. 

when exploration of the soul is found in minute spaces

I was waiting for the elevator at work and I ended up casually shooting the bull with my subeditor, whom I've grown to like a lot. I think what really struck me in that five minutes of waiting (yes, the lifts here are incorrigible) was this talk about "finding a place in this world". Which then brought me back to that time when I was seventeen years old, listening to Taylor Swift's 'A Place in This World' at midnight and finding myself connected to every single syllable and chord while having it on loop in my burned CD-ROM.

which of course, brought me to a lot of thinking as I sifted through the events that happened in 2015; so many good ones but there were also the bad. Come to think of it, I don't see them as bad. I see them as a learning curve or a challenge that needs to be faced (gosh, I sound so positive and I'm positively sure that this is the effect of a very potent matcha tea latte that I sipped earlier).

whatever.

at least it's a positive take on life. 

Back to my tale about finding a place in this world. I think, at least for me, I will never truly a find one place or THE place for me in this world. I feel like perhaps there are a string of places for me in this world: minute, teeny ones that occasionally escape the public eye, places that have made a memorable impression on me; something that I can only personally connect with and something I know will be of useless value to someone else. This is why I sometimes refrain from giving recommendations although I work for an Around Town/Travel magazine, because one person's experience will be completely different with someone else's. I sometimes fear that these little string of places will be judged or not understood in a complete sense (or least in my understanding of it), that's why I sometimes err on the side of caution whenever I am asked for recommendations for places to go, eat, see and do. 

This may not be a physical place per se, but I think in an intellectual state, the 'places' that I find myself so alive and kicking are the philosophical concepts of the Danish 'hygge', the Japanese 'wabi-sabi' and French's 'joie de vivre'. I cannot even begin to explain how much these three simple, often forgotten cultural concepts that are so overlooked, have impacted my worldview and my lifestyle. I find myself researching, exploring and wanting to experience more and more about these cultural concepts of living. Growing up in a religious background didn't entitle me to the freedom of exploring something other than what I'm used to. Sure, the curiosity was always there but I never really tapped into it. This year, I tapped into it so deeply that I found myself lost and yet found. Lost in all its beauty and its weaknesses and yet found in an entirely new way. I won't explain what these three concepts are, I gladly would but I think the more it unravels, the more it loses its impact.


As for physical little places, it would be the Kindori Japanese ice-cream stand at Tokyo Street in Pavilion, where I find myself getting natural soft serve matcha, dark chocolate or fresh berries soft serve prepared in front of my eyes. My boyfriend can probably recount how my eyes turn into the heart-eyed emoji when I finally get a hold of the cup and how much I find myself intrigued at the fresh churning process and the savoring of each drip. okay, I'll stop.

The other place would be the vegetarian Indian shop, Lakshmi Villas, that I frequent for breakfast before heading to work, an establishment that has been around for over 40 years. I guess my idea of a fancy breakfast is tearing a piece of my rawa dosa that's sitting on a piece of banana leaf and dipping it into the red coconut chutney and then washing it all down with fresh masala tea (something so culturally personal to me because my dad whips up this baby at home so effortlessly and because I am one proud desi).

The other place would have been the nameless ramen shop in Taipei where I had my first tonkotsu ramen (QQ-like wavy noodles, shredded seaweed, chashu, ajitsuke tamago, the whole works) which sparked into deep research on its origin and later, a comical rant that I wrote for Esquire Malaysia's January issue.
There's also that little assam laksa stall (My Own Cafe) at Canon Street in Penang owned by the Khoo Khongsi where I lost myself in that tiny bowl and how I desperately went back the next day for another bowl and how the proprietor told me to savor the bowl while it's hot instead of taking photos of it, which I gladly did because I soon realized that this is a moment that I did not want to share with the world or see again on a screen. I wanted to savour the dish at its best, something we don't do often nowadays, what with our camera culture or tapau culture. When I brought my colleague there, she remarked that she had tasted better in Butterworth, which didn't bother me at all because like I mentioned before, our experiences differ from one another and it's perfectly okay that someone else has a different experience and different opinion. Looking back, I really appreciated that she had her own take on it.


After typing this out, I realized that the catalyst to all my magical experiences revolved around food. truth to be told, I hate being called a cafe-hopper, a foodie, a gastronome, whatever mocking terminology that's insinuated with food hunters. I just like experiencing new things and A LOT of these new things seem to be food and places.

I noted that whatever I ate sparked research into the culinary technique and story behind the bowl. While I do love the beautiful photos of Instagram, I can also gladly admit that it is not through Instagram that I find my drive to try new things. I just, by nature, want to explore new things and it is through Instagram or the internet that I find people who have tried such a thing and I find myself doing more reading and research about something before embarking on it.

The weird thing is that there are days where I just try. I just do it. No research, no planning, nada. I just jump into it and discover. I guess I am thankful for that balance.

On the other hand, I also noted that the culture behind the place is something I treasured more than the experience of traveling. I used to be obsessed with traveling but after traveling a lot this year (most of them domestically and yes, how could I forget my first international experience?), I find that I'm more attracted to the history and culture, the lifestyle and the off-beaten path as compared to the glamorous idea of being a "well-traveled woman". There are times when I want to explore the beaten up roadside stalls that locals know but not the ones that show up on Instagram, Time Out or Yelp (sorry, Time Out) and there are days when I go for something typical, something mainstream - or hipster, since hipsterism is now so fucking mainstream.


I know that as I continue to trek my way around the globe, I will discover more and more of these teeny places in the world where I might find myself lost and found altogether. I know that there will never be a special place, or a song, or a book (okay, actually there is) that will fully resonate with my entire being but that in these string of places and things, I find bits of myself, discovered or uncovered, and slowly put them together to reflect one big world: my insignificant space in this big world.


I think if I was asked to sum up 2015, it will be the year that I regained my sense of wonder. I always had it as a child but I stifled it and indulged in it privately because of fear. This year, I saw a bolder and more positive side of me. I accomplished more than what I thought I would accomplish and without a list of New Year's resolutions, I found myself ticking off more items off a list that never really existed. My greatest fear in life is not being able to discover more and to have discovered everything until there is nothing left to discover. I function on exploration and discovery, my existence depends on it.

I cannot see myself doing anything else. 

when excitement keeps you speechless

Being in your twenties and truly living life is the best thing ever. I have better control over my thoughts and emotions, I've learn to let loose (in a lot of ways), I've popped a few cherries along the way and pushed myself to do things that I never thought I'll ever do.

For once, I am truly living life. I drink and dance a little, I cozy up with a good book on rainy days, I skip along with my man (always hand-in-hand) on some days, enjoy the company of my girls and my family on other days. I push myself to do crazy and new things while also having a deep love for the things that I can fall back on. As the seasons of change fly by, I start to see who and what truly matter. There are some things in the past that ought to be left behind and so many things to look forward into the future. These are some of the things that I'm looking forward to in 2016:

1) a possible opportunity to leap into my dream job *fingers crossed*

2) excitingly starting out life together with the love of my life

3) more traveling (yes!)

4) a series of new experiences and dare-you-to-move instances that will be the most memorable


Back in high school, I was really good with goals. I'd set them and achieve 90% of them, but I lost the groove along the way after I left high school. I could write an unending essay of how amazing 2015 turned out to be, seeing how the teenage years of my life were pretty bad (except for 2007 - that was one hella year!).

Change is good and I know I will be seeing a lot of that in 2016. Till then!