For a long time, I was convinced that stepping away from social media would come at a cost. I feared being forgotten, disconnected, and isolated from the world around me. But none of those fears materialised. If anything, the opposite happened. In the absence of constant digital noise, I found myself feeling more connected—particularly to my family. Our interactions became more intentional, more present, and more meaningful. Without the distraction of endless updates and pass

Over the past three years, my relationship with my phone has evolved into what I believe it was always meant to be—calm, intentional, and non-dependent. It is no longer something I reach for unconsciously, but rather a tool I use when necessary. This shift did not come from strict rules or short-lived challenges. Instead, it was the result of gradually building better habits over time. It was slow, at times uncomfortable, but ultimately sustainable. Alongside this, I went thr

I want to keep thinking. Writing requires me to sit with my own mind—without a television programme in the background or a TikTok creator telling me which lip combo works best on brown skin. It forces me into stillness. Into presence. It reminds me of those moments when I’ve intentionally stepped away from everything—when I’ve chosen a digital detox and allowed myself to just be . Writing is how I keep that part of myself alive. It’s not always comfortable. Sitting alone with

Once you realize how much opportunity you unlock simply by acting on your dreams, your excitement, your inspiration, especially when the momentum is there, and it feels natural, it becomes almost impossible to go back to hesitation. There was a time in my life when I felt completely lost. I struggled deeply and couldn’t imagine a future where I was genuinely happy or fulfilled. But today, I am a different person. I feel grounded, purposeful, and optimistic—even when I don’t h

Believing in the value and beauty of your own ideas doesn’t come naturally—and that’s because it often requires a certain level of audacity. It asks you to believe before there is any evidence. Before there is feedback, validation, or proof that what you’re creating is good. That belief must come first. Because only then can you give your creative passions the attention they deserve—nurturing them, developing them, and consistently putting them out into the world until the ex

Building a brand on social media as a creative can feel exhausting. You’re expected to turn your work into content, to constantly show up, and to do a thousand things you’re not genuinely interested in—simply because that’s what seems to work. I’ve been there. I spent a long time trying to reverse-engineer success—studying what worked for others and attempting to replicate it with my own twist. It never led to meaningful results. What it did lead to was burnout. It made the e

More than anything, I wanted to break into the fashion industry. I dreamed of working at a cool fashion magazine, of being surrounded by designer clothes and influential people. But at the time, those dreams felt impossibly far away. I didn’t know anyone in fashion. My mom worked in public health, and my dad was both a strict parent and a high school principal. I had no roadmap, no connections, and no real understanding of how to enter the industry. Still, that didn’t stop me

Feel it deeply—even that uncomfortable, gut-wrenching feeling—because at least it means you’re alive. You’re here. I’ve come to realize that I want to be real. Not harmless human. I want to say things that challenge people, move people, even confuse people. I want to begin sentences without knowing exactly where they’ll end. I want to learn, offend, regret, and grow. I want to be interesting, irritating, and irreplaceable. I want to get things wrong and take accountability. I

I stopped shrinking and feeling sorry for myself. I realized I was exhausting my nervous system and losing my sense of inspiration. On the rare occasions when I did feel inspired, I would sit with the feeling rather than act on it. Now, I choose differently. I am doing what I love, leaning into what I’m passionate about, and showing up fully—softly, but firmly. I am no longer negotiating who I am. People will have to adjust. I’ve also learned that not everyone’s advice is mea

Without sounding cliché, I have always had a deep passion for fashion. For as long as I can remember, I’ve cared about clothing—not just how it looks, but how it feels and what it represents. Through experimentation, I learned how to dress in a way that felt comfortable for my body. I even went as far as making my own clothes and altering existing pieces—something that admittedly got me into trouble with my parents. The signs were always there. Fashion has always been a const

Compassion is often misunderstood. Too often, we approach it from the wrong perspective—focusing on ourselves rather than the person we are trying to support. We offer help when it’s convenient, extend kind words when it’s easy, and show up when it aligns with our preferences. But genuine compassion is far more demanding. It requires us to set our egos aside and be present for others in the way they need—not in the way that feels most comfortable for us. I’ll admit this is so

These days, it seems we’ve traded real friendships for followers. Instead of sharing a genuine interest in each other's lives, we often just consume them as digital content. Vulnerability is replaced by sharing stories that others simply view, rather than connect with. Loyalty feels uncertain—are people truly invested, or just hoping for a reciprocal "like" on their photos? When we meet someone new, exchanging social media handles is almost automatic, locking us into an endle

Growth happens when we are present and accept each moment with awareness. Letting go mindfully brings peace, rather than being pushed by pain or outside forces. By recognizing what no longer serves us, we can empower ourselves and choose to grow. This decision expands our path, strengthens our self-understanding, and affirms our worth. A better life is possible for us, not just for others. Growth has required me to let go of friends, even when they were good to me, making me

“Let go or be dragged”—that phrase perfectly describes my experience: struggling through pain, holding on too tightly. Some things weren’t my fault, but many were, as I worked through emotions and trauma, which can be messy. My family’s unwavering support kept me going, even when my journey was hard to understand. Witnessing women heal openly inspired me and brought gratitude; their resilience literally helped me. Life is full of trial and error—we often expect certainty or t

I have a deep fondness for reading fiction and the endless interpretations that come with a great novel. I’m drawn to the confusion and suspense an author can weave—sometimes deliberately, sometimes by accident. To me, fiction is a unique space: authors blur into their characters, characters transform into readers, and readers become both the creators and the created. This dynamic truly fascinates me. Lately, I’ve been reflecting on this because I’ve long wanted to publish my

Even when moving on is necessary, leaving brings grief. It's tough to grieve someone who's still alive—balancing why you can't stay with what once made you care. When my decades-long friendship ended, empathy came only later; at the time, regret and frustration dominated. Society validates romantic breakups, but rarely acknowledges the pain of losing a friend.   It didn’t seem like it should hurt this much. Sometimes, my sadness after the ending felt almost absurd, and I was

Do you ever find it hard to accept compliments without referencing your past struggles, as if you must justify your achievements? I notice that after years of working hard, I've come to see struggle as a measure of worthiness, questioning whether I deserve anything that comes easily. Many people feel this way, especially those who have had to fight for their place. But lately, I'm learning to let good things simply be good, without feeling the need to explain why I deserve th

Easier said than done, I know. Trusting the timing and process of life is the biggest lesson I’ve learned in my 33 years of life so far. Some chapters are slow, confusing, painful as hell, and they still matter. My brain switched when I realised I’m too grown to be crashing out about everything all the time. I need to relax. I need to create solutions and forget the stress. That’s the lesson. When I tell you I stressed out about everything, I mean  everything . We’re all inhe

Loneliness stems more from our perceptions than the presence of others. It's possible to feel lonely in a crowd or content alone. Creativity has long helped people cope, offering a substitute for community through artistic expression. When loneliness can't be addressed by seeking company, turning to others' art for comfort and inspiration can encourage our own creative pursuits, helping us process these feelings. Personally, I love being alone, and as I grow, the more I want