Ever since I was a child, I’ve always been the quiet one. The obedient daughter in a typical 90s Asian household, where respect, patience, and following your elders came first. I didn’t speak up much, but I observed everything. Maybe that’s why writing became my quiet form of freedom—a space where I could say what I truly felt, without fear of being judged (except maybe for grammar or spelling).

I write from the quiet space between survival and becoming, the in-between where dreams, doubt, and duty live side by side.

Life hasn’t been easy, but I keep showing up.

By stepping out of my comfort zone, I’ve learned to turn struggles into stories—not to impress, but to express. Writing, for me, is a gentle rebellion, a soft way of reclaiming my voice.

Through honest reflections on life, love, money, debt, distance, healing, and hope, I’m slowly building a life—and myself—one word at a time.

If you’re walking a similar path, I hope my stories remind you that you’re not alone, and it’s never too late to begin again.