Joy 'N' Escapade

A Trip That Meant More Than It Looked: Notes from Macau

2026-04-16T00:44:00.007+08:00

A Quiet Milestone

This was our first overseas family trip with my in-laws. Not because they have never travelled. In fact, they have travelled far more than my husband and I ever have.

But this time, it was different. This time, hubby and I were the ones bringing them along. There was this quiet, unspoken acknowledgement that we have reached a new stage in life, like a small rite of passage.

A Trip That Became a Mini Pilgrimage

One lovely memory from this trip was how it quietly turned into a mini pilgrimage.

We found ourselves stepping into church after church: Our Lady of Carmel Church in Taipa, St. Dominic's Church, St. Lazarus' Church, Cathedral of the Nativity of Our Lady (Macau Cathedral), and The Chapel of St. Michael.

We celebrated Palm Sunday at St. Lazarus' Church on a Sunday morning. It was beautiful. There's something about being away from home, yet participating in something so familiar: the same rhythm, the same sense of reverence. It reminded me God remains constant, no matter where we are.

At one point, on our way to the Ruins of St. Paul, we wandered into St. Paul's Bookstore, run by The Daughters of St. Paul. We ended up spending more time there than expected, browsing and choosing little Catholic items like pins, crosses, rosaries, etc., each of us drawn to something in our own quiet way.

As I was writing this blog post, I stumbled upon this piece of news: Macau nuns use travel stamps to evangelise tourists.

The Portuguese Egg Tart Moment

Somewhere in between, there was a Portuguese egg tart. Just one from a shop near the Ruins of St. Paul's, eaten while being surrounded by people, noise, and movement.

And so, I just have to take this photo to immortalise the moment. Haha.

And Then… Pink Lights!

And then, there was a completely different kind of joy!

Standing there, watching The Parisian Macao light up in pink, synced to BLACKPINK's GO... I didn't expect to feel that excited!

It was loud and vibrant, completely opposite of the quiet churches we had been visiting.

Almost Sakura

And then, of course, there was my "almost sakura" moment.

According to the QR code beside the tree, it was Zhongguohong (Cerasus campanulata), also known as China Red, a type of cherry blossom found in Southern China that blooms between January and March.

Sometimes, close enough is enough.

The Small Things I Keep Collecting

Somewhere along the way, I found myself doing something familiar: collecting souvenir stamps.

Not the official kind you frame, but the simple landmark stamps, the kind you press onto paper just to say "I was here!"

It reminded me of Taipei, where I first started this little habit. There's something quietly satisfying about it. A small, tangible way of holding onto moments that would otherwise pass too quickly.

The Stairs...

Also, a small note for anyone romanticising heritage walks, but Macau comes with… a lot of stairs. The kind that immediately brought back memories of my trip to South Korea.

The kind that quietly humbles you while you're trying to look like you have your life together. Hahaha.

What Stayed With Me

Maybe that's what this trip was, without expectations, but still exactly what I needed.

A collection of small moments I chose to notice.

A quiet milestone.

A Palm Sunday far from home, yet deeply familiar.

Not sakura,

but close enough to be beautiful in its own way.

A Dental Visit He Was Actually Looking Forward To (And Yes, That's Normal in This House)

2026-04-11T23:12:00.003+08:00

I know this might sound unusual, but my son actually enjoys hospital visits (like mother, like son... 😏)

Doctor's appointments? He's curious.

Dental check-ups? He's excited.

Teeth cleaning and scaling? He looks forward to it.

So no, this wasn't one of those "bracing for impact" parenting moments.

But even then, our recent visit to the dental clinic at Pantai Hospital Kuala Lumpur still stood out in a very meaningful way.

And that's thanks to Dr Priyanka Mahendru.

When a Good Experience Becomes an Exceptional One

When your child is already comfortable with dental visits, the benchmark becomes higher.

It's no longer just about "not being scared". It's about the quality of interaction, attention to detail, and whether the experience feels genuinely thoughtful.

Dr Priyanka impressed me from the start.

She has this ability to quickly find common ground, not just with the child, but also with the parent. There's a natural flow in how she communicates, making the whole session feel collaborative rather than clinical.

What did I appreciate most?

She listens.

As a parent, you're not sidelined. Your input isn't dismissed. Instead, it becomes part of the conversation, which makes a big difference in how confident you feel about your child's care.

A Proud Mum Moment (Because This Is Apparently Rare)

Somewhere in the middle of the session came a moment I didn't expect to feel this proud about.

Dr Priyanka shared that my son has no cavities or caries at all. And then she added something that stayed with me: "This is actually quite rare for boys between 8 to 10 years old."

Let's just say… I had a quiet internal celebration. 😄🎉

Because behind that simple statement is a mix of daily habits, small reminders, and consistent care over time. And hearing it validated by a professional just hits differently.

More Than Just Teeth Cleaning

The session itself was smooth (as expected with him).

But what stood out was how attentive Dr Priyanka was beyond just the cleaning.

She pointed out observations related to his oral health that linked to other areas, including his nasal cavity issues. That kind of holistic attention always reassures me that we're not just addressing symptoms in isolation.

It's thoughtful. It's thorough. And it reflects genuine care.

The Cherry on Top: A Blind Box Plushie

Of course, no story is complete without a little fun.

We signed up for the kids' dental care package, and he got a blind box plushie at the end of the visit.

Was he happy? Absolutely.

Did it make the whole experience even more memorable? Also yes.

Even for a child who already enjoys these visits, that little surprise adds a layer of joy that stays with them.

Why This Experience Matters

This wasn't about overcoming fear.

It was about:

- reinforcing a positive relationship with healthcare

- being heard as a parent

- and seeing a healthcare provider go beyond the basics

And honestly, those are the experiences that build long-term trust.

Would I Recommend This? Without Hesitation

If you're looking for a dentist who:

- communicates well with both child and parent

- pays attention to the bigger picture

- and creates a genuinely positive experience

I would absolutely recommend Dr Priyanka for your child's oral care.

And if you're lucky, you might walk away with more than just clean teeth…

maybe even a proud moment or two!

I Only Feel Like Writing When I'm Falling Apart. Here's What That Taught Me.

2026-04-06T14:34:00.002+08:00

Note: Some of these thoughts began as late-night rants, which I later unpacked with the help of my AI assistant. What you are reading is still deeply personal, just more clearly expressed.

The Versions of Me

There is a version of me that only shows up when I am not okay.

She appears, usually a few days to one week before my period.

She could be dramatic, and in a kind of heavy, inward pull I have soon come to recognise.

I call it my "valley of darkness".

During this phase, everything feels... louder.

Not externally, but internally. My thoughts are sharper, my emotions closer to the surface, and my tolerance for things that I deem as nonsense becomes very low.

And interestingly, this is also when I have the most to say.

Ideas come rapidly.

Connections form effortlessly.

Thoughts that I normally brush aside suddenly feel urgent, important, and worth unpacking.

This is when I rant.

And more often than not, those rants turn into blog posts.

Then, just as suddenly, it all disappears.

When the Shift Happens

The moment my period comes, something shifts.

The emotional intensity softens.

The urgency fades.

The thoughts that once felt so compelling now seem… distant.

And with that, the ideas vanish.

Not reduced. Not dulled.

Vanished.

For the past one and a half weeks, especially after returning from my Macau family trip (which I am struggling to blog about), I have been sitting in this strange calm quietness.

No strong opinions.

No pressing thoughts.

No stories demanding to be written.

Just… stillness.

At first, I thought this meant I was blocked.

But what if it is not a block?

What if it is simply a shift in state?

Comparing the Two States

I am beginning to realise that my writing does not come from discipline alone.

It comes from emotional signals.

The Messier Side

When I am in that darker phase, my mind is actively processing:

frustrations

observations

unresolved questions

quiet tensions I do not usually confront

It is messy, but it is also honest.

And honesty, especially the uncomfortable kind, is incredibly fertile ground for writing.

The Calmer Side

But once my hormones stabilise, my system does something else.

It regulates. It calms. It restores balance.

And in doing so, it removes the very tension that fuels my writing.

Redefining My Own Expectations

Perhaps the problem was never creativity.

The problem was expectation.

I expected myself to:

generate ideas when I feel stable

create from a place that is naturally quieter

produce “insight” without emotional friction

But that is not how I seem to be wired.

I am not a constant-output writer.

I am a signal-driven one.

I write when something feels off.

I write when something needs to be understood.

I write when there is a question I cannot ignore.

And when those signals are not present, my mind rests.

Maybe This is Not A Weakness

For a while, I wondered if this pattern meant something was wrong with me.

Why can I only write when I feel low?

Why can I not produce consistently like others do?

But now I see it differently.

There are two versions of me at play:

One that feels deeply and generates meaning

One that organises, refines, and moves forward

Neither is better.

They simply serve different purposes.

The issue was that I kept asking the second version to do the first version's job.

What I Am Learning to Do Differently

Instead of fighting this rhythm, I am starting to work with it.

When I am in the "valley":

I capture everything

I do not filter

I let the thoughts be messy and incomplete

When I come out of it:

I revisit what was written

I shape it

I give it structure and clarity

In other words, I am learning that I do not need to create and refine at the same time.

A Quiet Realisation

Right now, I may not have new ideas.

But that does not mean I have nothing to say.

It may simply mean that the part of me that feels the need to say it is resting.

And perhaps that is just as important.

Maybe the goal is not to force consistency but to understand the rhythm and trust that when the noise returns, so will the words.

If you have ever noticed your thoughts becoming clearer in your most emotional moments, you are not alone. Perhaps there is something there worth listening to.

I Tried to Stay Healthy. Here’s Why It Still Feels Financially Punishing.

2026-03-23T15:41:00.000+08:00

Staying Healthy Is Expensive. So Why Does the System Still Reward Illness?

Let me start by saying this is not a perspective from an insurance agent, financial planner, or healthcare provider. This is purely a reflection from someone living within the system, paying for it and trying to make sense of it.

Because in my opinion, the reality looks like this, even if you don't fully agree with me:

Health screening? Expensive.

Healthy food? Expensive.

Gym memberships / personal training? Expensive.

Health supplements? Expensive.

Insurance premiums? Increasing year on year.

And yet, when it comes to actually using insurance, many of the things that help us stay healthy aren't claimable at all.

When Prevention Becomes Personal

This realisation became even more apparent as I started paying closer attention to my own health, particularly in this phase of life.

Perimenopause is not a disease, but it is a transition that affects energy, sleep, mood, metabolism, and overall wellbeing.

Managing it often involves regular monitoring, follow-up consultations with specialist doctors, hormonal support, and lifestyle adjustments. None of which are typically considered "claimable".

So here lies the disconnect: you are not sick, but you are also not entirely "fine". And the system, as it stands, does not quite know what to do with that in-between space.

The System Isn't Designed for Prevention

Most insurance systems are built around a very specific idea: you can only claim after something has gone wrong, which means you can claim when you are diagnosed with a disease, when treatment becomes necessary, and when treatment costs become significant.

Which also means you cannot claim when you are trying to detect problems early, manage long-term health proactively, or reduce future risks.

In other words, the system is designed for intervention, not prevention, and this creates a strange paradox.

The Prevention Paradox

From a logical standpoint, prevention makes sense. Like this: early detection → simpler treatment → lower cost → fewer large claims

So in theory, encouraging preventive care should benefit both individuals and insurers. But in practice, preventive care sits outside the system.

Why? Because preventive care requires upfront spending, doesn't guarantee immediate outcomes, and is harder to standardise across populations. Whereas treatment is clearly defined, measurable, and easier to price and insure.

So instead of a system that rewards staying well, we end up with one that primarily responds to illness.

The Real Cost of "Staying Healthy"

What many of us are experiencing today is a shift. Health is no longer just about treating disease.

It's about maintaining metabolic health, hormonal balance, mental wellbeing, and long-term quality of life.

But maintaining all of this often comes with out-of-pocket costs. And over time, it starts to feel like, "I'm paying to stay healthy… and I'm still paying in case I get sick."

That double layer of cost is where the frustration comes from.

So What Can We Do Within the Limits of the System?

Well, the system won't change overnight, but I guess how we respond to it can. Instead of viewing this as an either-or situation, i.e., "insurance or prevention", it's more helpful to see them as two separate roles.

Insurance as Protection, Not Everyday Use

Insurance should be best understood as protection against catastrophic events, i.e., the unexpected, high-cost situations that we cannot plan for. It's not designed to cover routine health maintenance.

Prevention as Personal Investment

Preventive care, which includes health screenings, supplements, and gym sessions, becomes a form of long-term investment in quality of life, especially in life stages like perimenopause, where the goal is not just to treat illness but to maintain stability and function.

Be Selective, Not Exhaustive

Not every supplement, test, or trend is necessary. Focusing on evidence-based screenings, essential lifestyle habits, and medically guided interventions can help reduce unnecessary spending.

Create a "Health Fund" Mindset

Instead of reacting to costs, I read that some people allocate a specific budget for health maintenance, treating it as a planned expense rather than a recurring frustration.

A System That Hasn't Caught Up (Yet)

Healthcare systems around the world are slowly shifting toward prevention. But change takes time.

In the meantime, some of us are navigating this in-between space. We are more aware of our health than ever before but still operating within systems designed for a different era.

The reality is, taking care of our health today requires both protection for the unexpected

and intentional investment in the everyday.

This is not a conclusion from the industry. It is a perspective from someone living within it.

It may not feel fair. But it is, for now, the reality we work within. And perhaps the real shift is this: not waiting for the system to reward prevention, but choosing it anyway.

A Visit That Made Me Feel Seen and Understood About Perimenopause

2026-03-20T00:15:00.004+08:00

So I have written about something many women quietly experience – the moment when burnout does not quite feel like burnout anymore. If you missed it, you can read it here: "The Subtle Changes of Your Forties: When Burnout Might Actually Be Perimenopause".

Taking the Next Step

After recognising that some of the changes I was experiencing could be linked to perimenopause, I decided to do something about it. So I went for a consultation with Dr. Premitha Damodaran, a menopause specialist at Pantai Hospital Kuala Lumpur.

I went in with a list of symptoms: mood swings, sleep disruptions, brain fog, cholesterol shifts, etc., but I also went in with a quiet question: is this really what I think it is?

A Consultation That Looked at the Whole Picture

What I appreciated most about the session was how the consultation itself was not rushed. Instead, it felt like a thoughtful conversation.

She asked about different aspects of my health, not just one isolated symptom. We spoke about my cholesterol levels; menstrual cycle – how regular or irregular it has been; and weight changes. She also asked about my Mirena IUD and why I chose to have it.

But the conversation did not stop there. Beyond that, she explored things that are often easy to dismiss, such as my sleep patterns, mood changes, memory, and even whether I had any joint pain or bowel changes. These things are usually ignored or dismissed, but they are actually part of the bigger picture.

Our body does not work in isolation. Everything is connected. Hence, it makes total sense to also look at all these different aspects of health.

Understanding What My Body Is Already Doing

One of the most reassuring parts of the consultation was realising that my body is not "falling apart". Without going into too much detail, what I wanted to say is that the narrative was changed from "something is wrong" to "something needs to be balanced".

Starting with the Foundation: Sleep

Interestingly, we are not trying to fix everything at once. The first focus is sleep. She explained that improving sleep can influence many other areas such as energy levels, mood, and even the ability to stay consistent with lifestyle habits.

Start with the foundation, and let the rest build from there.

We also spoke about exercise. Not as something I need to force immediately, but as something to build into gradually, especially weight training, once my sleep and energy improve.

There is a time to push, and there is a time to restore. Not as a pressure to immediately "do more", but as a next step when my body is ready. This perspective stayed with me.

Rather than trying to fix everything at once, we start with something that supports the body more holistically. And sometimes, restoration needs to come first.

Walking Away Feeling Supported

If my previous article was about awareness, this experience was about reassurance.

There is something deeply comforting about being heard, understood, and guided with clarity. It reminded me that navigating perimenopause does not have to be confusing or isolating. With the right support, it becomes something we can understand, manage, and even learn from.

I am still at the beginning of this journey. There will likely be adjustments along the way, like new observations, new questions, and perhaps new insights.

But for now, I feel more grounded. Not because everything is solved, but because I understand a little more about what my body is going through. And I truly believe that understanding is the most important first step.

Watch Dr. Premitha's short video about perimenopause.

The Subtle Changes of Your Forties: When Burnout Might Actually Be Perimenopause

2026-03-17T22:05:00.010+08:00

A Personal Observation

I have begun noticing changes in myself that I could not immediately explain for the past 4-5 years, but they have intensified since last year.

My sleep feels different. I couldn't fall asleep fast enough. I need a moment longer to recall a word. Situations that I would normally handle without much thought feel a little more draining than before. My brain feels like it's in the drain. Lots of things could trigger an onslaught of emotions. I feel challenged in many ways, and I dislike the feeling of not being in control.

At first, I assumed it was simply the result of a busy season of life. Like many women in their forties, I am balancing work, studies, family, and the usual responsibilities that come with adulthood.

But as I started paying closer attention, I realised these changes were not random. They seemed to follow a pattern that many women eventually encounter: the stage of perimenopause, which is the hormonal transition before menopause.

Perimenopause can begin several years before menopause itself, and hormonal fluctuations during this time can affect sleep, mood, metabolism, and cognitive function. Ouch!

Five Signs You May Be Entering Perimenopause

Here are five signs that are often mistaken for burnout but may actually be related to perimenopause.

1. You Notice More "Brain Fog" Than Before

Many women begin to notice changes in memory or concentration during perimenopause. You might take longer to recall certain words, forget why you entered a room, or feel that your thinking is slightly slower than before. For women like me who rely heavily on mental sharpness at work or in daily life, this can feel worrying.

Research shows that cognitive symptoms such as brain fog, slower recall, and reduced focus are common during perimenopause and are linked to hormonal fluctuations affecting brain function. The brain contains many receptors for oestrogen, and fluctuations in this hormone can influence memory and processing speed.

2. Your Tolerance for Stress Feels Lower

Another common experience during perimenopause is a change in how the body responds to stress. Hormonal fluctuations can affect the body's stress-response system, including how the nervous system regulates cortisol and emotional responses.

Situations that once felt manageable may now feel more draining. You may find yourself feeling overwhelmed more easily, especially when juggling multiple responsibilities at work or at home. This is so true.

3. You Have Difficulty Falling Asleep

Sleep disruption is one of the earliest and most overlooked signs of perimenopause. As Dr. Mary Claire Haver highlights, many women experience a "hidden sleep crisis" during this stage, often mistaking it for stress rather than a hormonal shift.

Some women find that they feel tired but have difficulty falling asleep. Others may notice that their sleep schedule shifts or that they wake earlier than usual. For me, I couldn't fall asleep as fast as I wanted it to be. Sometimes I could lie in bed for two hours before being able to fall asleep. One reason for this is that progesterone, a hormone that has calming and sleep-supporting effects, may fluctuate or decline during this stage of life.

4. Your Body Stores Weight Differently

Many women are surprised to notice weight changes during their forties, even when their diet and activity levels remain the same. Experts note that visceral fat increases even without lifestyle changes due to hormonal shifts.

Hormonal decline can lead to weight changes and fat redistribution, particularly abdominal fat. Oestrogen plays a role in how the body distributes fat. Changes in oestrogen levels can influence how the body stores fat, which is why many women notice increased weight around the abdomen during the perimenopause stage. Clothes may fit differently even if overall weight has not changed dramatically.

5. Your Emotions Feel More Sensitive at Times

Many women report feeling "not quite themselves" emotionally during early stages. Mood swings, irritability, and emotional changes are common symptoms of perimenopause. You might feel more irritable than usual or react more strongly to situations that previously felt minor.

These emotional shifts can come and go as hormone levels fluctuate throughout the cycle. This fluctuation affects the brain chemicals that regulate mood, including serotonin and GABA. When hormone levels fluctuate, mood regulation can become more sensitive.

Why High-Performing Women Often Notice These Changes More

Interestingly, many women who notice these changes most clearly are those who are used to functioning at a high mental and emotional capacity.

Women in their forties are often balancing demanding careers, family responsibilities, and multiple commitments. They are accustomed to being organised, efficient, and mentally sharp. Because of this, even small shifts in sleep, memory, stress tolerance, or energy can become noticeable.

When these changes appear, it's easy to assume that something is wrong or that burnout is setting in. However, hormonal fluctuations during perimenopause can affect several systems in the body at the same time, including sleep regulation, cognitive processing, mood stability, and metabolism.

For women who have spent years managing complex schedules and responsibilities, these subtle changes may feel especially surprising.

To be very honest, I was taken aback by these changes, particularly the feeling that they were no longer entirely within my control.

Taking Action

Because of that, I began reading and researching to better understand what was happening in my body. I needed this knowledge not just for information, but to reduce unnecessary self-criticism and self-doubt.

I'm not labelling myself or limiting what I can do. I'm creating awareness. And with awareness, we can begin to adapt our routines, priorities, and self-care in ways that support our well-being more sustainably.

It also made me reflect on something else. For many years, women's health experiences were not openly discussed. Conversations around hormonal changes were often minimised or simply not prioritised.

But times are changing. More women today are beginning to speak, share, and seek understanding, not just for themselves but for those who come after them. In many ways, we are part of a generation that is learning to listen to our bodies more closely and to give language to experiences that were once kept quiet.

That realisation led me to take the next step: to speak with a menopause specialist and better understand what my body needs.

In this next post, I share what that consultation was like and why it made me feel more supported than I expected.

References

Menopause symptoms that may surprise you: What to watch for during perimenopause

Menopause and stress

The Girls Aren't Sleeping

Menopause Masterclass: Hormones, Brain Fog, Weight & Mental Health with Dr. Mary Claire Haver

How symptoms of perimenopause and menopause can impact mental health

In Another Universe, I Have Four Animals

2026-03-14T12:12:00.002+08:00

Sometimes I imagine a slightly different version of my life. Well, I believe we all carry small alternate universes in our minds, like the café we never opened, the house by the lake we never bought, and the pets we never adopted.

In one of mine, four animals share my home: Sherlock, Sheldon, Shelby, and Shiloh. Each of them carries a distinct personality, and if I'm honest, I suspect each of them represents a different part of me.

Sherlock, the Curious One

Sherlock is always investigating something: a rustle in the garden, a new bag brought into the house, a sound that most people would ignore. Nothing escapes his attention. He moves through the world with quiet curiosity, piecing together clues that others might miss.

If I look closely, Sherlock reminds me of the curious part of me; the part that looks at trends, behaviour, and patterns and wonders, "Why does this happen? What does it mean?" Sherlock notices everything. And perhaps that is why I understand him best.

Sheldon, the Keeper of Order

Sheldon prefers structure. His world runs on quiet precision. The warmth of the terrarium lamp turns on at the same hour each day. Feeding time follows a familiar rhythm. Even the small cave he retreats to remains perfectly positioned where he expects it to be.

If something changes, like a shifted rock or a slightly different light, Sheldon notices and quietly evaluates the disturbance. There is something comforting about that predictability. While the rest of the household moves with noise and energy, Sheldon lives by steady patterns. Day after day, the same gentle routines create a small, controlled universe within glass walls.

If I look closely, Sheldon reminds me of the part of me who needs structure. Structure is not the enemy of creativity. To me, structure is what allows everything else to function.

Shelby, the One Who Understands People

Shelby has a quiet gift for reading the room. He notices when someone arrives tired from a long day, when a visitor lingers a little longer by the door, and when the energy in the house shifts in subtle ways. His welcome is warm but never overwhelming. A gentle wag of the tail, a soft presence beside whoever needs it.

If I look closely, Shelby reminds me of the part of me who views genuine connection as not having to be loud or obvious. Sometimes it is simply the ability to notice people, to recognise when someone needs comfort, conversation, or just quiet companionship.

Shiloh, the Quiet Observer

Shiloh spends a lot of time by the window. He watches the street, the trees, and the changing light of the afternoon. While the others move around the house with energy and purpose, Shiloh seems content simply to observe.

In the evenings, he walks beside me slowly, matching my pace without pulling ahead. There is something peaceful about his presence.

If I look closely, Shiloh reminds me of the part of me who values quiet downtime. Not every moment needs to be filled with activity. Some moments are meant simply for reflection.

A Small Ecosystem of Personalities

When I imagine this household, I realise something interesting. Each of these animals reflects a different way of moving through the world.

Sherlock, curious and analytical.

Sheldon, structured and dependable.

Shelby, warm and generous.

Shiloh, calm and reflective.

Together, they form a kind of balance. Perhaps that is why the image feels so comforting. Because somewhere in that imagined home, all those parts coexist peacefully.

The Universe That Exists Only in Imagination

In reality, I do not have these animals. Life sometimes takes us down paths where certain things, even lovely things, are simply not part of the journey.

But every now and then, I visit this alternate universe in my mind.

A place where mornings begin with the sound of paws on the floor. Where Sherlock investigates the garden, Sheldon rests quietly beneath the warmth of his lamp, Shelby greets the day with enthusiasm, and Shiloh watches the sunrise beside me.

It is not a grand life. Just a quiet one, filled with companionship and small, warm moments. And perhaps that is enough.

Preparing for the Care We Rarely Talk About

2026-03-03T21:21:00.003+08:00

I registered for the "The First Step in Caregiving: Chaperone & Companionship" course at Care Concierge Academy with no particular expectations. I assumed it would be practical and instructional. I thought I would simply learn some guidelines on caring for elderly family members and understanding when something constitutes a medical emergency.

What I did not expect was how personal the experience would feel.

More Than Just Technical Skills

The course was not limited to caring for older adults. It covered anyone who might be bedridden or dependent on others for daily needs, including stroke patients.

We learnt the basics of handwashing; how to wear surgical masks and gloves properly; how to perform perineal care, change urine bags, and change adult nappies; and how to safely transfer someone from a bed to a wheelchair and into a car. We were taught how to use a gait belt during mobility transfers and what it means to chaperone someone during hospital visits and medical appointments.

These were technical skills. Necessary ones.

But somewhere in between the demonstrations and instructions, something shifted in me.

The Moment It Became Personal

During the session on perineal care, I felt an unexpected sense of helplessness. It was not because the procedure was difficult to understand. It was because I suddenly imagined myself in that position one day.

If I were old and bedridden, how would I allow myself to be cleaned and handled by someone else? How would I accept being touched by strangers? How far could I hold on to my dignity without feeling shitty?

I realised how much I dislike asking for help from strangers. The thought of depending entirely on someone else for basic hygiene unsettled me more than I expected. It made me confront a version of vulnerability that I had not fully considered before.

Understanding Dementia Differently

The course also touched on dementia. We learned that patients may refuse to eat, may behave unpredictably, and can deteriorate in ways that are painful to witness. They are not difficult because they choose to be. Dementia is a disease that gradually eats away at the brain. The behaviour is not personality; it is pathology.

That reframing matters. It shifts frustration into compassion. It shifts judgement into understanding.

Why I Signed Up in the First Place

I attended this course because I wanted to be the first in my family to know what to look out for. I wanted to be able to recognise when something is a medical emergency and when it is not. I wanted to understand how to care for my loved ones before immediately turning to external professional caregivers. I wanted to feel prepared.

A geriatric specialist once told me that in an emergency, I should just go to the hospital. That advice is correct. Hospitals are for emergencies.

The Part No One Talks About: After the Hospital

But what happens after the hospital is what concerns me most.

The discharge summary is handed over. The medication list is explained. The follow-up appointment is scheduled. Then the patient goes home.

Home is where the real care begins.

Who helps with toileting?

Who ensures proper hygiene?

Who notices subtle changes?

Who handles mobility transfers?

Who sits through the waiting at medical appointments?

Who understands when agitation is part of dementia and not defiance?

That "after" is rarely discussed openly.

Yet it is the reality many families quietly navigate.

Working closely with hospitals over the years has given me insight into patient journeys, discharge processes, and continuity of care from a systems perspective.

But sitting in this caregiving class made me feel the emotional weight of what those transitions actually mean at home. It moved the concept of "post-discharge care" from professional understanding to personal responsibility.

What Shifted in Me

What shifted in me was not fear, although there was some of that. It was a deeper awareness of responsibility.

When the time comes, how ready will I be for my family? How ready will I be for myself?

Caregiving is not only about physical tasks. It is about preserving dignity when independence is no longer possible. It is about balancing clinical necessity with emotional sensitivity. It is about being steady when someone else feels vulnerable.

Preparedness is not only medical knowledge. It is emotional readiness. It is the willingness to step into uncomfortable spaces. It is acknowledging that one day, roles may reverse.

Midlife, Readiness, and Contribution

Perhaps this is also what midlife begins to look like. It is not only about career growth or personal ambition. It is about contribution. It is about quietly preparing for responsibilities that may not yet have arrived but eventually will.

We often prepare for promotions, investments, and milestones. We rarely prepare for frailty, dependency, or decline. Yet these are just as much a part of life.

I do not know what the future holds for my parents, my loved ones, or myself. But I know this: when the time comes, I want to contribute meaningfully. I want to respond with knowledge instead of panic. I want to act with steadiness instead of avoidance.

The hospital may handle the emergency.

But the care after that, the quiet, daily, intimate care, is what truly sustains a person.

And that is what I am learning to take seriously.

Part of the #CareAndCalling series

#CareAndCalling is a series about preparing for the responsibilities we rarely talk about, and recognising that care is not a detour but a calling.

– Finding My Way Back to Healthcare

– Learning to Care, Before We Have To

– This Was Never a Detour

– What Healthcare Has Quietly Taught Me

Year of the Horse: In Between Family, Work, and Small Wins

2026-02-27T22:44:00.001+08:00

Chinese New Year has always meant reunion dinners and festive celebrations. As I grow older, I find that it also becomes a reflection of the different roles I carry in life.

There was the familiar Lou Sang with family. Everyone leaned in as we tossed the colourful mix of vegetables, crackers, and abalone into the air. It was fun, slightly chaotic, and exactly how it should be. Family gatherings remind me that beyond deadlines, projects, and responsibilities, there is a foundation that stays constant. Traditions like this are simple, but they anchor the year.

Then there were Lou Sangs with colleagues and clients. One photo captures it well: multiple pairs of chopsticks meeting in the centre of the plate, waiting to toss everything as high as we could! It was a reminder that work is not just about deliverables and targets. It is about people. It is about partnerships built over time, conversations that go beyond emails, and shared meals that make professional relationships more human.

Attending the company’s Chinese New Year dinner party also felt meaningful in its own way. Seeing everyone dressed up, relaxed, and celebrating together allowed me to step back from the usual work mode and appreciate the team behind the projects. Moments like these help us reconnect as people first.

There was also a small but memorable surprise. I won a Uniqlo gift card during the lucky draw! Woohoo! It may seem like a small win, but I have come to appreciate small wins like these more deeply. They are reminders that joy does not always come from grand achievements. Sometimes it comes in unexpected envelopes handed to you at the end of a dinner. See how big my smile was!

Walking through Pavilion Bukit Jalil (it was a planned date with hubby hehehe) and seeing the elaborate Chinese New Year decorations added another layer to the season. The red lanterns, festive displays, and crowd gathering to watch lion dance performance made the celebration feel communal. It was not just about personal rituals or company events. It was about being part of a larger rhythm that happens across the city during this time of year.

The Year of the Horse is said to symbolise strength, endurance, and forward momentum. As we continue into this new year, I hope: To show up for the people who matter. To build meaningful work. To appreciate small wins. And to remember that sometimes, the most valuable moments are the ones that happen in between.

Happy Chinese New Year.

What Healthcare Has Quietly Taught Me

2026-02-15T18:10:00.007+08:00

Sometimes it takes a few years in a field before you realise how deeply it has shaped the way you think. When I first moved into healthcare communications, I saw it as a career trajectory shift. It meant learning new terminologies, understanding patient education, and helping hospital brands win brand resonance. What I did not expect was how much it would change the way I understand care itself.

The Moment That Changed My Perspective

One of the moments that stayed with me was my visit to Modern Cancer Hospital Guangzhou. Walking through the hospital was not just a work trip. It was the first time I saw, up close, how an entire system revolves around patients who are navigating one of the most uncertain chapters of their lives. It was not just about treatment rooms, equipment, or medical expertise. It was also about the conversations happening in consultation rooms and the waiting areas and the way doctors explained options to people who were trying to process life-changing information.

That visit helped me see cancer care differently. It is not simply about treatment. It is about guiding people through a long and often overwhelming journey. Patients move through stages of diagnosis, decisions, treatment, side effects, and recovery, and along the way they need clarity, reassurance, and someone who can help them understand what comes next.

Seeing Cancer Care Beyond Treatment

What stayed with me was not the technology or the procedures, but the conversations whereby complex information had to be conveyed into something understandable and where patients needed both facts and reassurance at the same time.

It made me realise that medicine, especially in fields like oncology, is as much about guidance as it is about treatment.

Why Healthcare Still Shapes My Daily Work

Even today, although I now work in a digital marketing agency, my day-to-day work remains deeply connected to healthcare. My main clients are hospital brands, which means I regularly research medical trends, diseases, and patient concerns and transform those insights into educational content for hospital websites. Staying immersed in this work keeps me closely aware of how patients seek understanding, how families search for reassurance, and how important clear communication becomes when people are facing uncertainty.

Through this ongoing exposure, I began to notice what resonates most strongly with me. It is not the technical side of medicine or the procedures themselves. What draws me in is the role of helping people navigate critical life chapters and understand what is happening to them.

Note: This caricature reflects what I do most days: working with data trends, healthcare content strategy and planning, usually with a laptop open and coffee within reach. I spend a lot of time thinking about how to turn information into something useful, clear, and meaningful. Still learning, still building, and very much enjoying the process.

The Question That Made Me Reflect

At one point, I found myself wondering what specialty I might have chosen if life had taken me into medicine. The answer that came to mind was oncology, or something related to chronic care. It was not because I was drawn to the disease itself or to clinical interventions. It was because oncology represents a space where doctors accompany patients over time, helping them understand their situation, weigh difficult choices, and move forward step by step.

Realising What Truly Resonates

When I reflected on that thought more carefully, I realised that what appealed to me was not the specialty title, but the sense of being a steady guide when life becomes uncertain. That instinct is less about medicine and more about purpose. It is about helping people make sense of complex information, supporting them through decisions, and making difficult journeys feel more navigable.

Guiding From Outside the Consultation Room

In many ways, I have come to see that this guiding role can exist beyond the consultation room. Healthcare communication, when done responsibly, is not just about marketing or messaging. It shapes how patients first encounter information, how they interpret their options, and how confident they feel in seeking care. Clear content can reduce fear. Thoughtful explanations can empower families. Well-structured patient journeys can make an overwhelming system feel more understandable.

This perspective has changed how I see my own work. I no longer think of it only in terms of campaigns or deliverables. I see it as contributing, in a different but meaningful way, to how people experience care during vulnerable moments in their lives.

While clinicians guide one patient at a time, those working within healthcare systems and communication channels have the opportunity to improve the journey for many more.

What This Means for the Way I See My Work Now

Looking back, my visit to Modern Cancer Hospital Guangzhou was one of the ignition points for this realisation. It helped me understand that what matters most to me is not simply working in healthcare but being part of work that supports people through significant chapters of their lives. Whether that happens in a hospital consultation room or through clearer communication that reaches thousands, the intention remains the same.

I may not wear a white coat, but I have come to recognise that the instinct to guide, clarify, and support is still very much part of what I do. And perhaps that is what truly defines the kind of work that stays with us.

Celebratory Meals at Shinmapo & Kung Jung Korean Restaurants

2026-02-08T18:22:00.005+08:00

My Recent Realisation

I realised I no longer celebrate milestones the way I once did. There was a time when achievements felt incomplete unless they were announced, shared, or marked in a visible way. These days, I find myself doing the opposite. I tend to let the moment settle before deciding whether it needs to be explained at all.

Recently, two Korean meals (one at Shinmapo and another at Kung Jung) became those markers for me. Not in an obvious way but they simply arrived at the right time, where I am more aware of how far I have come, and more selective about what deserves my energy.

The Down-to-Earth Vibe of Shinmapo

Shinmapo felt familiar and grounding. The food was hearty and uncomplicated, the kind that does not demand attention but offers comfort through consistency. Think KBBQ pork in different cuts, refillable banchan, and plenty of kimchi.

There is something reassuring about meals like this, especially when they are shared with friends. They remind you that steadiness is a form of strength, and achievements do not always have to be impressive to be meaningful. Happiness, when shared, is happiness gained.

The Refined Vibe of Kung Jung

Kung Jung, on the other hand, carried a different tone. The experience was more refined and more composed. Think Hanwoo beef, pollack, beef ribs, yukhoe (Korean-style beef tartare). It was mostly measured and intentional, much like the mindset I find myself in now. There was no rush or the need to prove anything. Just be present.

Embracing the Co-Existence

What struck me was not the contrast between the two restaurants, but how naturally they coexisted within the same period of my life. Familiarity and growth do not cancel each other out. In this season, I am learning that it is possible to hold both and to appreciate where I am now.

These meals did not feel like celebrations in the traditional sense. They felt more like acknowledgements. A recognition that something has shifted, that certain chapters have closed, and I have come to appreciate this quieter way of marking time.

Not every win needs to be explained. Some are meant to be quietly celebrated and fully owned. Period.

This Was Never a Detour

2026-01-31T14:36:00.002+08:00

Once Upon A Time in Secondary School

After SPM, I applied to nursing school in USM and was accepted.

I remember that moment clearly. It felt right. It felt certain. But my mother said NO, and that was the end of that path, at least for then.

So I stayed. I did my STPM. I continued studying pure science subjects. It wasn't easy. Life wasn't exactly great at home, but that's another story to tell.

Graduated from University of Malaya (UM)

I entered University of Malaya and graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Education (Honours) with Distinction, majoring in Biology with a minor in Chemistry. I was very proud that I did well.

My Career Path Throughout the Years

Somewhere along the way, my career took me into marketing.

To an outsider, it might look like a sharp turn. To me, it felt more like translation. I learned how to communicate, influence, build systems, and tell stories. These are skills that later found their way back into healthcare in unexpected forms. I worked closely with medical institutions, health services, and patient-facing platforms. For a long time, that felt like home.

Before enrolling in my Master of Marketing, I almost chose a Master of Public Health instead. I remember hesitating. Not because I lacked interest, but because I questioned legitimacy. I wasn't a doctor. My professional experience lived elsewhere. So I chose the path that aligned most neatly with my resume.

That choice made sense. And yet, the question never fully went away.

My Recent Outlook

More recently, I noticed myself looking again. This time at micro-credentials, short courses, certification programmes, anything that would allow me to re-enter the healthcare landscape without uprooting my life. Not to start over, but to reconnect.

That was how I found myself enrolling in a chaperone and companionship course focused on ageing and caregiving. And later, being accepted into a formal programme on ageing and geriatric rehabilitation, a course I will take in a later season, when timing allows.

Am I Complicating Things?

For a while, I wondered if I was complicating things.

But then I realised something important:

This was never a detour.

From nursing school to science education, from public health curiosity to healthcare work, from caregiving to geriatric learning: the thread has always been there. What changed were the forms, shaped by family, feasibility, responsibility, and season of life.

I am no longer trying to become who I wanted to be at eighteen.

I am becoming who I can be now, with clarity, maturity, and intention.

Some callings do not disappear when they are deferred. They wait patiently until we are ready to hold them properly.

Learning to Care, Before We Have To

2026-01-21T00:08:00.001+08:00

The following reflection builds on an earlier piece about finding my way back to healthcare; not by changing careers, but by integrating care into how I live.

Malaysia, an ageing nation.

Malaysia is changing quietly, steadily, and in ways that will touch almost every family. We are now considered an ageing nation, and alongside that shift comes a reality many of us are only beginning to confront: caregiving is no longer optional, distant, or theoretical.

After reflecting on my own relationship with healthcare and why I've been drawn back to it, this post moves from reflection to action, and why I chose to start learning how to care, before circumstances force us to.

Conversations around me.

Lately, when I speak to friends with ageing parents, the same sentence keeps appearing in different forms: "It's not easy to find a caretaker who can take care of my parents well."

Good and trusted caretakers and home nurses who can come to the house are not only difficult to find; they can be costly in the long run. Many families are navigating dementia, Parkinson's, mobility loss, post-stroke recovery, or the slow erosion of independence that comes with age. Almost everyone I know has some version of this story unfolding in their home.

It is not only my friends. Many of my in-laws' peers are living with some form of cancer, diabetes, heart disease, relapses, and chronic conditions - whether being actively treated or quietly endured.

A quiet realisation.

And slowly, it becomes impossible to ignore the truth:

My in-laws are ageing.

One day, my husband will age too.

And so will I.

This awareness has shifted something in me.

I am not a doctor, and at this stage of life, I don't need to be. What I do need is the ability to respond calmly, competently, and compassionately; someone who does not freeze when an elderly parent falls, forgets, weakens, or needs help with the most basic human tasks.

I want at least one person in the household who understands ageing, who can respond with calm, knowledge, and compassion.

Taking action.

That desire led me to register for the "Chaperone & Companionship Course: The First Step in Caregiving" by Care Concierge Malaysia. It's a practical programme that introduces essential skills such as basic health assessment, patient communication, observation, mobility support, and personal care.

Around the same time, I was accepted into a formal programme on Ageing & Geriatric Rehabilitation. Although I had to decline the intake due to timing, the decision to return in the later part of the year felt intentional rather than disappointing. Some learning needs space. Some knowledge deserves readiness. This is one of them.

Getting myself ready.

2026 will be a year of grounding - finishing my Master of Marketing, deepening my work, and continuing to learn through hands-on caregiving exposure.

By 2027, I shall be ready to step into structured geriatric training with clarity, intention, and emotional maturity. Not because I am certain this will become my full-time path, but because I believe some knowledge is too important to postpone.

Caregiving, to me, is not a career move or a credential chase. It is a form of readiness for my family and for the realities that will arrive whether we plan for them or not.

In a society that is growing older, choosing to learn how to care is not dramatic. It is practical, humane, and something I would rather do early, calmly, and with intention before we have to.

Finding My Way Back to Healthcare

2026-01-18T21:03:00.002+08:00

I have always wanted to be a doctor.

Some of you might know that I have always wanted to be a medical doctor. Not casually. Not as a childhood phase.

It was a quiet, persistent knowing that followed me into adulthood, you know, the pull towards medicine, care, understanding the human body, and being present in moments that matter most.

Life, of course, took me elsewhere. That particular path is no longer feasible, and I have made my peace with that, or so I thought.

Over the years...

I built a meaningful career in marketing, eventually finding myself working closely within healthcare organisations. For a long time, that felt like enough. I was still in the industry I loved. Still learning. Still close to care, even if not at the bedside.

Then, gradually, some of those containers disappeared.

Roles changed. Chapters ended. A venture I believed in came to an abrupt close.

And suddenly, I realised something that unsettled me more than I expected. I no longer felt inside the healthcare world. I was adjacent to it, serving it, speaking about it, but no longer held by it.

Grieving is necessary.

That realisation triggered a quiet grief. Not because I wanted to change careers. Not because I was unhappy with what I do. But because I had lost proximity to something that once felt like home.

Healthcare, for me, has never been about titles or prestige. It has always been about care, dignity, vulnerability, and being useful when things are fragile.

Somewhere along the way, I began to miss that deeply human dimension, the kind that cannot be fully accessed through strategy decks or analytics dashboards.

Looking for my way back in.

I started looking for ways back in. Not dramatic ones. Not radical pivots. But honest, age-appropriate, sustainable ones.

And so, I enrolled in a one-day caregiving-related course; it's practical, grounded, human.

I will blog about this after completing it.

I was also accepted into a professional certificate programme focused on ageing and rehabilitation. Even though I had to decline the intake due to timing, the decision to return in a later part of the year felt right; it's unrushed, intentional.

I know I am not trying to become a doctor anymore.

But I am also not willing to let that part of me disappear.

My next blog post (Learning to Care, Before We Have To) explores why I focus on ageing care.

When growth requires intentional integration.

What I am doing now is something quieter. It's called integrating.

Integrating who I have become with who I once wanted to be. Integrating knowledge with care. Integrating work with life, family, ageing, and the realities that are already knocking at our doors.

I don't know yet what this will lead to. And for once, I'm okay with not knowing.

Some learning is not about outcomes. It's about belonging and returning, differently.

And maybe this is what growing older with intention looks like: not chasing old dreams, but finding new ways to honour them.

Choosing Closure Without Agreement

2026-01-16T22:59:00.004+08:00

This reflection is about a personal season of growth and discernment. It is not written in reference to any individual relationship or organisation.

After writing my previous post, I was somewhat shocked that the story wasn't quite over yet.

Because apparently there was still one more decision to make to formally close the door even though the ending still didn't feel quite fair.

And seriously, that was harder than I expected.

I said I wanted peace of mind, but honestly, I didn't want to lie to myself. I didn't want to pretend that what happened was okay, or that it didn't matter. Because it did and still does.

For a while, I thought closure meant I had to agree with the outcome. That I had to make sense of it, or accept it fully, before moving on. But I'm learning that this isn't true.

Closure Doesn't Require Agreement

I arrive at a new level of comprehension that closure doesn't require agreement.

Signing off on an ending doesn't mean I approve of how things were handled. It doesn't mean I've forgotten the effort, the care, or the sacrifices that went into that chapter. It simply means I no longer want to stay connected to something that no longer aligns with who I am.

I'm not trying to erase the experience. I'm choosing not to stay stuck in it. There's a stark difference.

Stepping Away Graciously

Holding on to the feeling of injustice was costing me more than letting go. Not just in time or energy, but in peace of mind.

So in the end, I chose to agree to step away without needing everything to feel resolved.

Some chapters don't end with fairness or closure in the way we hope for. They end when we decide that staying no longer serves us.

No bitterness, just self-respect.

Let me carry the lesson forward and leave the weight behind.

And that feels like the right place to end this chapter.

Here's to the Year of the Fiery Horse.

No more looking back.

Let's gallop forward! Lighter, braver, and ready for success.

When a Chapter Ends Without Apology

2026-01-15T13:45:00.002+08:00

This reflection is about a personal season of growth and discernment. It is not written in reference to any individual relationship or organisation.

Some endings don't come with shouting or drama.

They come with silence, paperwork, and a sudden shift in the story you thought you were building.

Just very recently, I walked away from something I had invested deeply in, not just with time and work, but with belief.

I stayed longer than my instincts suggested I should. I saw the red flags. I acknowledged them. But I chose to hope, to commit, and to honour the version of the future I thought we were building together.

And when it had to come to an end, it felt like an inconvenient ultimatum; like I was being discarded because there was no other choice. That part hurt more than I expected.

But healing has a way of softening the narrative.

What I now see is this: I didn't ignore my instincts. I simply allowed my values to lead.

I stayed because I believe in loyalty. In building things with care. In not abandoning people or projects the moment things become complicated.

That is not foolishness. That is character.

The ending forced me to face this difficult truth: sometimes, people are not building the same kind of thing you are. Some are creating a future. Others are protecting an income. And when those two visions collide, something has to give.

This time, it was the story I thought I belonged to.

I recently came across a line from Ejae that stayed with me.

Rejection is redirection.

At first, it sounded too philosophical. But the more I sit with it, the more it feels true. Not every closed door is a loss. Some are quiet course corrections, i.e., life intervening before your integrity is slowly worn down by compromises you were never meant to make.

I didn't lose a chapter. I was released from a version of the future that could no longer hold who I am becoming.

And I'm choosing to carry that lesson forward, not with bitterness, but with clarity, self-respect, and a deeper trust in my own voice.

Sometimes, the bravest thing you do isn't staying. It's knowing when to leave without apology.

My 2026 Reading Reset

2026-01-08T20:24:00.000+08:00

Restarting My Physical Book Reading Habit in 2026

Somewhere between work, deadlines, milestones, and life's many tabs open in my head, I stopped reading physical books.

Well, it wasn't done intentionally. Nor did it happen dramatically. The habit just kind of fizzled slowly... as I moved on in life, especially after giving birth.

As I said, the habit slipped away. And it was replaced by scrolling, skimming, saving things I never returned to, and telling myself I'd "get back to books when things calm down."

But things never really calm down, do they? Haha.

Returning to Physical Books

So in 2026, I'm choosing something small, old-fashioned, and deeply personal: I'm returning to physical books.

The rule of thumb: No e-books and audiobooks, articles, summaries, or even content for work. They should be real books with covers, pages, bookmarks.

I'm looking forward to real moments of being unreachable because there's something grounding about holding a story in your hands. There should be neither notifications nor multitasking. Just me myself and a world that unfolds one page at a time.

This shouldn't be about productivity. It isn't about finishing X number of books. It's about reading for presence, not speed.

It's about reclaiming attention, rebuilding patience, and remembering how good it feels to sit with a story and let it stay with me.

The Peculiar Children Series by Ransom Riggs

I've already gathered the books I want to begin with a full Ransom Riggs collection of Peculiardom waiting on my shelf. I've collected them throughout the years.

Now, I plan to re-read the first three books slowly, intentionally, and with joy:

1) Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

2) Hollow City

3) Library of Souls

Then, followed by the next three books.

4) A Map of Days

5) The Conference of the Birds

6) The Desolations of Devil’s Acre

Finally, I'll complete the universe with these two companion books:

7) Tales of the Peculiar

8) Miss Peregrine's Museum of Wonders

Then I'll blog about them, not as a critic, not as a reviewer. Just thoughts, feelings, moments.

Maybe this is a midlife thing. Or a healing thing. Or maybe this is just me choosing to spend my time more gently.

But I know this: 2026 is the year I return to books. And I'm excited to begin again.

Wish me luck.

And if you've been thinking about doing the same, maybe this is your sign too.

A Quiet Promise to Myself for 2026

2026-01-01T00:00:00.008+08:00

For 2026, I find myself thinking less about resolutions and more about direction. Not what I want to achieve but who I want to be while I'm achieving it.

The older I get, the clearer it becomes:

Success without peace is empty. Achievement without alignment is exhausting. And ambition without joy is not the life I want.

So here's my mantra for 2026, not as a list of goals, but as how I want to show up in 2026.

Wake up early. Drink coffee.

Not because productivity culture demands it, but because there is something grounding about starting the day with intention, in quiet, before the world asks anything of me.

Work hard. Be ambitious.

I still care deeply about building meaningful work. I'm not done growing.

There are still opportunities to do more as I head into midlife; not from a place of proving myself, but from building, creating, and contributing in ways that feel deeply aligned with who I am now, not who I used to be.

Keep your priorities straight, your mind right, and your head up.

Because life will always throw curveballs, but how I respond, that's my responsibility.

Protect your peace. Honour your energy. Choose calm as much as you choose success.

I do not want to glorify burnout and confuse exhaustion with importance. I want a life that feels steady, spacious, and kind to myself.

Don't ever give up.

But know the difference between giving up on yourself and giving up on what no longer serves you.

Some days, persistence looks like pushing forward. Other days, it looks like resting. Or changing direction. Or choosing something kinder for your body, your mind, your life.

Do well, live well, and dress really well.

Because how I show up matters. Not just in meetings and milestones, but in the quiet moments too. Self-respect is a daily practice.

Do what you love. Love what you do.

This used to sound idealistic to me. Now I see it as essential.

Photo taken at The Coffee Department, Level 4, Pantai Hospital Kuala Lumpur.

2026, I'm ready.

Happy New Year.

Blessed Christmas & Happy New Year 2026!

2025-12-25T13:55:00.001+08:00

From Our Family to You

🤍 Blessed Christmas and a Happy New Year 🤍

Wishing you a season filled with simple joys, gentle moments, and all the warmth of home.

From our family to yours.

From All of Us at Fishermen Analytics

We don't do conventional, not even for Christmas.

This year has been about movement, momentum, and navigating new waters together.

We're deeply grateful to our clients and partners who continue to challenge the norm with us, embrace bold ideas, and trust the journey.

Here's to closing 2025 with gratitude and stepping into 2026 with fresh energy, sharper strategies, and bigger ambitions.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from all of us at Fishermen Analytics.

Things That Stayed With Me in 2025

2025-12-23T22:04:00.003+08:00

When I take a look back at 2025, it was indeed a year made up of both extraordinary and ordinary things. There were inspirations, conversations, decisions, and pauses that stayed.

They may not be highlights. They were not incredible milestones.

But they are things that lingered and became part of how the year felt.

1. Reflections on Resilience: Inspired by Ejae's Journey

Source: Threads

Have you heard of Ejae's story? 12 years of training, multiple near-misses, and the heartbreak of not debuting in a K-pop group; all before finally releasing Golden. What resonated with me most wasn't her eventual success, but her profound resilience during the wait.

She stayed in the music industry despite the heartbreaking experience of not debuting after 12 years of hard work. Before the eventual success of Golden and Huntrix, she refused to give up; instead, she sharpened her production skills, wrote tirelessly, and strategically leaned into her strengths. Ejae's journey is proof that talent and grit eventually shine and her current impact is only the beginning.

There is something deeply human about that kind of patience. You can feel the vindication and triumph in every record Golden has broken across the globe.

I'm letting her story sit with me as a form of quiet motivation.

2. Rose's "You've Got You"

Source: Facebook

Rosé's MTV VMAs Award acceptance speech crossed my feed at some point, and one line stuck: "you've got you." It wasn't delivered dramatically. It didn't feel rehearsed.

That sentence surfaced quietly throughout the year, especially during moments when decisions felt personal rather than strategic. It wasn't about hype or confidence. It was about self-trust, in a very understated way.

3. Leaving Corporate, Returning to Digital Agency Life

This year, I resigned from corporate and went back into digital agency life while continuing my Master's.

It wasn't a bold leap or a dramatic exit. It felt more like choosing an environment that fit who I am now: how I think, how I work, how I show up. There was relief in that, and also a sense of familiarity. Like returning to a room I already knew how to breathe in.

4. Continuing my Master's Quietly

I didn't talk much about my Master's this year. I just kept showing up. I met up with my lecturers to thank them for their continuous support.

Reading, writing, submitting. Sometimes tired, sometimes motivated, sometimes simply consistent. It wasn't hustle. It wasn't grind. It was something I carried alongside everything else, without needing it to define me.

I guess I did the right thing, as I was recognised as the most active student representative for my intake (March 2024) in Sunway University's MMKT ODL programme.

5. Making a Personal Choice for Myself

I signed up for the Curas Hybrid Laser treatment at Pure Touch Clinic this year. Not as a statement, not as a transformation story, just as a choice.

It felt less about appearance and more about the decision to listen to my body. Deciding without overexplaining. There was something quietly affirming about that.

6. Travelling My Heart Out

I travelled a fair bit this year, so if there's a recurring theme from 2025, it's me travelling with people who matter. And here's the list:

Anniversary trip to South Korea & Macau with my husband.

Trip to Taipei with my sister.

Work trips (Jakarta and Guangzhou) that blended into shared routines.

Family trips (Club Med Phuket, Ipoh, Kuantan & Pulau Kapas, Muar & Melaka, Legoland Malaysia) that moved at a gentler pace.

The places were different, but the presence mattered more than the destination. Travel became less about seeing and more about being with.

And instead of overplanning, the snippets that I could remember go like this:

By a pool. In a lounge. At a hotel bar. In a mini mart aisle. Eating noodles. Drinking coffee. Holding a cocktail. Watching the sky change. Doing nothing.

I wasn't planning of capturing scroll-stopping content angles. I was collecting moments that didn't ask for performance.

That pattern of sitting, eating, drinking, noticing... felt totally ME. Unforced. Enough.

7. The Tone of the Year

If I had to describe 2025, it would be: Not empty. Not dull. Just… unhurried.

The year didn't push me forward aggressively. It allowed me to settle into myself a little more.

And that, strangely, felt like plenty.

I don't know yet what 2026 will bring. I'm not setting intentions or naming themes.

For now, I'm just carrying these things with me, the ones that stayed.

And I'm okay with that.

8. Mantra for 2026

Wake up early. Drink coffee.

Work hard. Be ambitious.

Keep your priorities straight, your mind right, and your head up.

Don't ever give up.

Do well, live well, and dress really well.

Do what you love, love what you do.

It is time to start living.

Happy New Year!

P.S.: Check out my compilation of annual posts since 2007.

Why I Stopped Feeling Guilty for Being a Manager, Not a Leader

2025-12-18T14:49:00.002+08:00

Well, the theme of this blog post is definitely a not-so-popular opinion. But it's one that feels true for me.

As I settle into my mid-40s, "adulting" has taken on new dimensions, especially in how I see myself at work. Over time, I've felt a quiet tension between the roles I hold and the expectations placed on me by LinkedIn.

The Leadership Ideal

In many workplaces, "leadership" is held up as the gold standard. A true "leader" should not just manage tasks, but he/she should be inspiring, mentoring, being a model, stirring morale.

In fact, the internet is full of thought pieces, TED talks, and motivational quotes telling us to "be inspiring," "mentor the next generation," "lead with vision." You know the drill.

In a world that celebrates charisma, emotional coaching, and grand vision, it's easy to feel guilt if you don't or can't fit that mould. Don't you agree?

I believe most of us are conditioned to believe that being a leader is the ultimate goal, while being a manager is somehow less.

The infamous Simon Sinek often says: "A boss has the title, a leader has the people." Leadership, he explains, is about mentoring those in your charge so that they buy into you and your vision.

I respect that. But I also can't help but wonder:

Am I failing because I don't "lead" like the books say?

When You Don't Fit the "Leader" Mould

An uncomfortable question keeps surfacing:

What if my personality simply doesn't fit the ideal "leader" mould?

Honestly, I'm not the person who rallies the room with grand speeches or spends hours crafting motivational one-liners.

What if I just want to be a manager?

What if I just want to be steady, task-oriented, and clear, without all the stage lights and inspirational pep talks?

That's me: I focus on clarity, structure, and delivery; I make sure things get done.

And sometimes, yes, I feel guilty for not being more.

What I've Learned About Authenticity

But here's the truth I've come to accept (or at least am working toward):

I don't need to force myself to become the kind of leader social media glorifies.

And that doesn't make me less.

Being a manager is not a demotion. It's not "less than."

It doesn't mean I lack care or vision. It just means I express them differently.

Instead of pep talks, I offer honesty.

Instead of sugarcoating, I give clarity.

Instead of trying to be everyone's favourite "leader," I aim to be fair, dependable, and real.

For some, that might come across as harsh.

For me, it's a sustainable way to operate without burning out.

Integrity Over Image

I don't have to fake a "leader persona" that drains me or feels disingenuous.

What I can strive for is integrity in the role I do play: Consistent, fair, transparent, focused.

I do care about people's work, respect their efforts, and align outcomes with purpose, without pretending to be someone I'm not.

Gratitude and Clarity

I'm grateful for the colleagues, friends, and mentors who see the value in honesty, even when it's uncomfortable.

I'm grateful for those who don't expect me to wear a mask of endless positivity.

This acceptance has lifted a weight off my shoulders.

I don't have to chase an image of leadership that doesn't suit me.

I just need to show up authentically as a manager, a collaborator, and yes, as an adult still figuring things out in midlife.

Authenticity Over Expectation

So yes, some may whisper that I should lead, inspire, and motivate in conventional ways.

But I choose authenticity over expectation.

I don't need to be the leader everyone raves about.

I'll manage in my way. I'll show up as myself.

And if that means I'm not everyone's "favourite leader"...

I'm perfectly okay with that.

A Korean Dinner at Daesam Sikdang SS15 Subang that Took Me Back to Seoul

2025-12-11T18:16:00.004+08:00

There are some restaurants you go to because you're hungry… and then there are restaurants that unexpectedly transport you somewhere else.

Dining at Daesam Sikdang (Dae Sam BBQ) in SS15 Subang felt like stepping briefly back into Seoul during my February trip to South Korea.

Daesam Sikdang (Dae Sam BBQ)

From the outside, Daesam Sikdang sits quietly in an unassuming shoplot block. Its weathered walls and doors with windows are the kind of façade you'd easily miss if not for the bright red neon sign glowing DAE SAM BBQ (see the first photo on this blog post).

But when you step inside, it's a completely different world.

You can see warm light bulbs hanging and industrial vents running across the ceiling (very Korean BBQ vibes), and handwritten posters lining the wooden walls. The space definitely hums with the familiar vibe of a great Korean BBQ restaurant.

This is the kind of place where you immediately feel you're in for a casual, friendly, and unpretentious dining experience. You're here to eat, not pose.

The Banchan that Set the Mood

The moment the tray of banchan arrived, the nostalgia hit hard.

Kimchi, japchae, fishcake, spring onion salad, pickled vegetables, steamed egg, sauces, crisp lettuce - the whole Korean ensemble.

There's always something comforting about the abundance of small plates - it feels like hospitality in edible form.

And honestly? The japchae was seriously so good it deserved its own paragraph. It's slightly sweet, glossy, and springy, and it tasted exactly like the ones I had in Seoul.

It's Not Korean BBQ Without Samgyeopsal!

Next came the star: slices of pork belly laid out on a foil-lined grill. Oh, and the promise of crispy edges, juicy centres, and that satisfying sizzle.

What's With the "Female Pig"?

One interesting thing I noticed at Daesam Sikdang was how often the phrase "female pig" appeared on their menu. I initially wondered why, but it turns out this is actually a Korean BBQ culture thing.

In Korea, am-dwaeji (female pig) is known for having tenderer, juicier, and more flavourful pork, which many BBQ restaurants proudly highlight to signal higher-quality cuts. I didn't get the chance to ask the staff about it this round, but now that I know, it makes perfect sense why they emphasise it.

Watching the meat brown slowly reminded me of winter in Seoul, when we huddled in a warm shop after walking in the freezing wind. The same smell, the same comfort, the same ritual of turning each slice at just the right moment.

When it was ready, I wrapped mine in crisp lettuce with a bit of kimchi and sauce. One bite, and I knew I'm gonna come back to this restaurant again.

The Jeon that Won the Table

If there is a dish that deserves a shout-out tonight, it's their half-half jeon platter: kimchi jeon on one side, haemul (seafood) jeon on the other.

Crispy edges, soft centres, generous fillings, and that iconic soy-sesame dip. This is the sort of dish that makes you sigh a little because it's so simple yet so satisfying.

And the mini sausage jeon? Such a throwback snack. Delicious, savoury, nostalgic.

Would I Return? Absolutely.

Daesam Sikdang is the kind of restaurant you go to when you want authentic Korean flavours, generous banchan (with a killer japchae), a relaxed, no-frills ambience, and warm, satisfying comfort food.

It's also perfect for catching up with friends, family dinners, or just any random weekday craving for Korean BBQ.

For me, it's reliving the moments where I want a tiny slice of Seoul without a boarding pass.

And a special thanks to Di, my ex-colleague who recommended this place. Without her suggestion, I might have missed out on a dinner that reminded me so deeply of Seoul.

How I Bought My Crystal Infusion Memory Foam Pillow from Harvey Norman

2025-12-02T14:49:00.003+08:00

I've been wanting to upgrade my pillow for a while now. Between juggling work, studies, and sleep deprivation, a comfortable pillow suddenly felt like a very urgent form of self-care.

But the moment I stepped into Harvey Norman's bedding section, I realised choosing a pillow is not as simple as "soft or firm".

My goodness! There were Microgel, Microfibre, Feather, Memory Foam, AIR Memory, Silk Cotton, Natural Latex. Each promised support, cooling, breathability, posture alignment, or some kind of sleep magic.

And then there's me: A confused shopper who just wants a pillow that won't give me neck and shoulder pain and will let me fall asleep faster.

How the Bedding Manager at Harvey Norman Helped Me Make Sense of Everything Pillows

Honestly, I would never have chosen the right pillow on my own. Karen Ng, the Bedding Section Manager (bless her!) at Harvey Norman's Kiara Bay outlet took one look at my overwhelmed face and came over.

The first thing she asked me (which I didn't expect) was: "What bed are you sleeping on?"

I told her my hubby purchased a Van Vorst Backpedic Care from Havey Norman, a bed designed for firm, orthopaedic-style support.

And that changed everything.

She explained that the type of bed you sleep on influences what kind of pillow you should use. A firmer mattress, like my Backpedic Care, raises your body slightly, so your pillow height and firmness need to complement that. If not, your neck ends up tilting at an awkward angle.

So, instead of something soft and sink-in, she recommended a Memory Foam pillow with better contouring and structural support. She insisted that I test the pillow by lying on the same bed model in the outlet. And honestly, this is truly customer service at its best.

That's how I ended up looking at the Crystal Infusion Memory Foam Pillow, something I probably would have dismissed earlier because the name sounded a little too mystical for my practical brain.

Why I Picked the Crystal Infusion Memory Foam Pillow

Once she explained the support and alignment benefits, I started paying attention to the details.

Here's what made me choose it:

Memory Foam that Actually Supports the Neck

This isn't the super-hard, old-school memory foam. The pillow has a smooth contour that fits the neck and shoulders, especially for side and back sleepers.

It's Infused with Natural Crystals (Yes, Really)

The "crystal" part caught my eye mostly because it sounded unusual. The pillow contains a Biocrystal® mixture like amethyst, quartz, fluorite, rose quartz, red jasper, and more embedded inside the foam.

Does it magically heal your chakras? I don’t know. But what convinced me was actually the research charts on the box showing reduced muscle tension, calmer heart rate, and improved relaxation.

Even if you don't fully buy into the crystal-wellness aspect, the idea of a pillow designed to promote relaxation didn't sound like a bad thing.

Cooling and Breathable Cover

Malaysia is hot. Memory foam can get warm. So the air-flow friendly cover and breathable construction felt like a must.

It Pairs Well with My Firm Backpedic Care Mattress

This was the ultimate deciding factor. The bedding manager recommended this specific pillow because the structure complements the firmness and height profile of my Van Vorst Backpedic Care bed.

It's like matching shoes to an outfit. The wrong pair can ruin the whole look (or in this case, your spine).

How Well Did I Sleep One Week Later?

So far? It's supportive without feeling like I'm sleeping on a brick. The contour helps my neck settle into a neutral position, and I don't toss around trying to find the "right angle" anymore.

And whether it's the foam, the crystals, or simply the fact that I finally invested in the right pillow, I do fall asleep faster.

What I Learned from this Whole Pillow Shopping Experience

If you're thinking of getting a new pillow too, here are three things I wish I knew earlier:

1. Your pillow must match your mattress.

Soft bed: Firmer pillow

Firm bed: Slightly softer or contour-support pillow

Neutral bed: Depends on your sleeping position

2. Your sleeping position matters.

Side sleeper: You need height and support

Back sleeper: Medium firmness and contouring

Stomach sleeper: Something flatter

3. Don't choose based on feel alone. Get expert help.

The bedding manager immediately narrowed down the options once she knew my mattress brand. It saved me time, confusion, and a potential wrong purchase.

Would I Recommend the Crystal Infusion Pillow?

Yes, if you're a side or back sleeper, prefer structured support, and sleep on a firmer mattress.

If you like soft, sink-in pillows, or if you're a stomach sleeper, this might be too high or too firm for you.

But for me? It's the right balance of comfort, support, and a touch of wellness (crystals and all!).

Thanks Karen Ng from Harvey Norman Kiara Bay!

The Ultimate Legoland Malaysia Guide for Kids Aged 9 to 12

2025-12-02T00:38:00.004+08:00

Guide to Legoland Malaysia for Children Aged 9 to 12

Travelling with kids aged 9 to 12 is a completely different kind of fun. They are old enough for real thrill rides, curious enough to enjoy learning experiences, and independent enough to explore without hand-holding. On our recent trip to Legoland Malaysia, I realised this theme park is actually perfect for this age group.

Fun fact: Legoland Malaysia is our number one pick for "Cuti-cuti Malaysia", a place we have returned to over the years without fail: April 2018, October 2019, October 2020, March 2022 (our first stay at the Legoland Hotel), and February 2023. It is more than a theme park to us now; it is a timeline of our boys' childhood.

So, in this 6th family trip to Legoland Malaysia, here's what we did, what we loved, and what I think other parents of "big kids" will appreciate too.

1. Stay at the Legoland Hotel

One of the best decisions we made was staying at the Legoland Hotel. The moment you step into the lobby, you are greeted by a giant pirate ship, a Lego castle, and piles of colourful bricks waiting to be turned into creations.

For kids aged 9 to 12, this lobby is heaven. No longer toddlers who need close supervision, they can wander between the play zones, work on their own Lego builds, and challenge themselves creatively. We spent a good chunk of time right here; just the kids building, dismantling, rebuilding, and proudly showing off their designs.

On more thing, if your kids enjoy problem-solving, don't skip the in-room treasure hunt. It adds a layer of excitement before bedtime and gives them a sense of independence while solving clues.

Check out our stay at the incredible Legoland Hotel!

2. Go for Repeated Roller-Coaster Rounds

This is the first time my youngest boy is tall and brave enough to go on every roller coaster. Both my boys absolutely made the most of it.

The Great LEGO Race, the one at the LEGO Technic area is fun, fast, and great as a warm-up before venturing to the other two classic roller coasters.

The Small Dragon (Dragon's Apprentice): This one is perfect for repeated rounds. The queue moves fast and the ride has just enough kick for kids who love the not-so-extreme roller-coaster buzz and thrills.

The Big Dragon (The Dragon Coaster): This is a classic. Dramatic castle entrance, thrilling drops, and just enough speed to get everyone (even the adults) screaming and laughing without being too overwhelming.

3. SEA LIFE is Surprisingly Engaging for Big Kids

I wasn't expecting SEA LIFE to hold the kids' attention for long, but it did. We turned it into a mini learning adventure: identifying different species, laughing at some species' names, watching animal behaviour.

Guess what's the highlight? It's that adorable baby stingray that kept "dancing" along its glass tank, flipping and wriggling like it was performing a show.

There's also an illustration station, where my eldest kiddo drew Patrick the starfish. It's surprisingly therapeutic and gives kids (and adults) a creative break between exhibits.

SEA LIFE is a must-do if your kids enjoy animals, marine life, or hands-on activities.

4. What We Missed (and What You Should Check)

We didn't make it to the Water Park this round. It was closed on Tuesdays. So if you are planning your trip, double-check the operating days and hours before you go. It's the kind of small logistical detail that can make or break your itinerary.

So, What Makes Legoland Perfect for Kids Aged 9 to 12?

Well, every parent knows that 9 to 12 is an interesting in-between stage. They are not babies, but they are also not teens yet. Legoland suits this "big kid" stage beautifully because:

Rides are exciting, not scary.
Activities are hands-on and stimulating.
The hotel lobby gives them independent playtime.
SEA LIFE appeals to their curiosity.
They can handle a full, active day without meltdowns.
They appreciate Lego creativity on a deeper level.

This is the age where childhood memories become core memories, and Legoland provides the perfect backdrop.

Tips for Parents Visiting Legoland Malaysia with 9- to 12-Year-Olds

Travelling with older kids is such a joy. Here's what worked for us:

✔ Spend time in the hotel lobby; it’s genuinely a big hit.

✔ Allocate at least 1-2 hours for SEA LIFE.

✔ Go early to avoid queues for the Dragon roller coasters.

✔ Let them choose which rides to repeat.

✔ Go on the rest of the rides and thematic activities (find out from Legoland's website).

✔ If the Water Park is part of your plan, avoid Tuesdays.

This trip reminded me how much magic there is in experiencing a theme park through their eyes. Legoland Malaysia is more than just a place for little ones.

For kids aged 9 to 12, it's a world of adventure, creativity, and discovery. Honestly, I think this might be the best age to visit.

Guangzhou Trip 2025: All the Firsts (A Working Trip, But Make It Fun)

2025-11-30T00:16:00.006+08:00

My recent Guangzhou trip was meant to be work (think: hospital facilities tour, live medical treatment sessions, doctor interviews). And of course, all that happened.

But somewhere between Guangzhou Baiyun International Airport and Canton Tower, Guangzhou gave me a long list of 'firsts' that turn a work trip into something a little more memorable.

Here's everything that made this working trip fun!

First Time Flying China Southern Airlines

Just like my first time flying TransNusa to Jakarta, there's always something about boarding a new airline that makes even a routine flight feel a little special. This time, my flight experience with China Southern Airlines makes me momentarily forget I have work deliverables waiting for me on the other end.

First Time Visiting Modern Cancer Hospital Guangzhou

This one definitely deserves its own spotlight.

Walking into St. Stamford Modern Cancer Hospital Guangzhou, I expected "hospital energy", you know, that cold, clinical, intimidating vibe. But instead, I felt warmth. The people were kind, the environment was welcoming, and the level of care and technology was honestly eye-opening.

It was my first time touring a cancer hospital overseas. Seeing how seriously they take multidisciplinary treatment, how structured their processes were, and how genuinely involved their teams are… it made my work feel even more purposeful. If I ever needed a reminder of why we do what we do, I found it there.

First Time Trying Xinjiang Cuisine

Credit to my Muslim teammates, this was a culinary experience in Guangzhou I didn't know I needed. Lamb skewers, cumin, spices that wake you up and your ancestors hahaha... Xinjiang food (yes, we had Xinjiang cuisine in Guangzhou) is bold, hearty, and full of character!

First Time Walking Along Beijing Road

And then there was Beijing Road - my first time walking through its colourful chaos. The energy was loud, bright, and overstimulating (argghh the crowd!)

But what caught my eye the most? The rows and rows of tanghulu - glossy, jewel-like skewers of candied fruit lined up in every colour possible. If Guangzhou had a dessert mascot, it would definitely be tanghulu. They are just too impossible to ignore.

First Time Taking the Pearl River Cruise at Night

If you ever want to see Guangzhou glow, take the night cruise.

The skyline, the bridges, the neon lights reflecting on the water. It was peaceful and beautiful throughout the entire 1-hour ride.

First Time Seeing Canton Tower in Both Daylight and Night Glow

Seeing Canton Tower twice, once in daylight and once glowing at night, felt like meeting two different sides of Guangzhou. By day, it's sleek and striking. By night, it transforms into a rainbow-lit showpiece that steals the skyline.

And yes, it was breathtaking… but a small part of me felt proud knowing that back home, KL Tower stands just as tall in spirit - equally impressive, if not more, in its own Malaysian way.