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There’s something strangely comforting about a cup of black coffee. No sugar. No cream. Just raw, honest bitterness in a warm mug. And yet, for all its intensity, many of us love it precisely because it doesn't pretend to be anything else.

That simple image and quote—"You don't have to be sweet to be liked by everyone"—hit me hard.

For much of my life, I believed I had to be agreeable, pleasant, always smiling, always saying “yes.” I was afraid that showing...

I was scrolling through Bob’s Facebook when I came across four beautiful ceramic pieces adorned with Junle’s calligraphy. The blend of earthy craftsmanship and quiet, powerful strokes instantly drew me in. I just wanted to bring them all home.

But in the end, I chose two that spoke to me the most—pieces that reflect parts of myself still healing, still learning, still growing:

事缓则圆，人缓则安

...

Perfection used to be my silent goal.

Before my stroke, I strived to always get things right—my words, my work, my world. I thought strength came from control, from polish, from doing everything just right.

But life had other plans.

After the stroke, perfection vanished. Suddenly, I had to relearn the basics. I stumbled over words. I forgot names. I got frustrated with things I once did with ease. My rhythm changed. My pace slowed....

But there was one constant.

One person who stayed through it all.

Quietly. Faithfully. Without needing thanks or...

There I was—lying on a mat in the middle of nature, clutching a bowl of vegetables like it was a bowl of gold. A fork in one hand, a mouthful mid-air, and the breeze brushing against my face. No fancy cutlery. No five-star restaurant. Just me, the mountains, a forkful of greens… and peace.

And you know what?

It was perfect.

This photo might not win any photography awards. My hair’s wild, the bowl’s metal, and the mat has definitely seen better days. But this...

Seriously. I may not be able to read the back of a cereal box without stretching my arm like Mr. Fantastic, but I can sniff out fake vibes from across the room.

In my younger days, I believed people. Smiles meant sincerity. Big talk meant big hearts. Titles meant wisdom. I was practically a walking “Benefit of the Doubt.”

Now? Not so much. I've upgraded —...

After my stroke, the world didn’t just change—it distorted.

Words I once had at my fingertips suddenly vanished.

Thoughts became trapped behind walls I couldn’t break down.

I had so much to say… but I couldn’t get the words out.

I live with aphasia now. It’s not just about struggling to speak—it’s about the anxiety, the fear of not being understood, the sadness of being left out of conversations I used to lead.

And then there’s this:

Even the people closest...

This Saturday, I geared up for my second dragon boat practice. That is right — Round Two. But nothing could quite prepare us for what felt like paddling in a sauna. Singapore’s sun was on full blast, and I believe I sweated more before getting into the boat than during the actual practice. With an all-star lineup: Maya Lightchaser, Melvin Lemon Beery, Dawn Poh, Rick, my Queen ...

Yesterday, I went for a check-up with Dr Moses. He walked in, looked at me, squinted a little… and then said the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard in my entire life:
“You look different. Did you lose weight?”
I could’ve cried on the spot. I wanted to frame that moment. Bottle it. Autotune it and make it my ringtone.
And then I said, “Yes, Doc… 3 kilograms.”
(That’s three. solid. kilos.)
Before I even saw him, I went...

What began as private healing through writing after my stroke in 2020 — when I was faced with aphasia and the emotional weight of disability — has slowly transformed into something much larger. It’s no longer just my story. It’s becoming a voice for many who have been...

They’ll crop out the struggles.

Mute your silence.

Polish your pain until it fits into their version of who they think you are — or who they want you to be.

But here’s the thing: you kept the original file.

The raw version.

The one with the broken sentences, the blurry paragraphs, the parts where you cried mid-sentence, where you paused too long trying to breathe through the hurt.

The unfiltered file — where nothing was...

I know this all too well.

When I suffered a stroke in 2020, change didn’t just visit—it took over my body, my speech, my independence, my life. In those early moments, I didn’t see transformation. I saw loss. I saw pain. I saw fear. I saw a future I no longer recognized.

But here’s what I’ve come to understand: change is...

I didn’t just survive. I chose to live—magnificently, beautifully, and yes… imperfectly.

In the beginning, it wasn’t easy. My right hand, once...

So here’s how it went down—literally.
My new physical trainer, Jack, decided that the gym wasn’t challenging enough. Apparently, air-conditioning and padded floors are for softies. So, off we went to the exercise corner at my apartment.
You know, the one I used to casually stroll past thinking, “This corner isn’t for me. Irrelevant.”
Plot twist: it is now very relevant.
Jack introduced me to something called TRX....

Sometimes it’s a beautiful disaster — spilled coffee on your shirt, missed appointments, awkward conversations, hospital visits, and emotions that don’t fit into a box.

And yet, somehow, that mess?

That’s where the magic is.

Perfection is a Performance — Not Reality

Before my stroke, I chased perfection.

I wanted to be sharp, articulate, capable — always in control.

But stroke stripped that away...

At our past.

At people who didn’t believe in us.

At setbacks, systems, even time.

But here's a truth that hit me as I looked up at the sky:

The biggest limit… is often ourselves.

I’ve lived through silence. A silence that came after my stroke.

It robbed me of words, confidence, and my former self.

There were days I doubted if I could ever express myself again—days I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognise who I was becoming.

...

We see them as loss. As failure.

As doors shutting, dreams dissolving, or time running out.

But what if we changed the way we see endings?

What if we saw them the way we see sunsets?

That moment in the photo—just me, standing quietly as the sun dipped beneath the skyline—wasn’t planned. I didn’t go out chasing a perfect shot or a profound thought. But as the sky glowed with warm colours, something in me softened. Something finally...

If you had told me years ago that I’d be staring at my own face towering over New York City, I would’ve laughed. Hard. Then probably spilled my kopi.

But there it is.

Not just a book, but a journey.

A story that began in silence, frustration, and pain…

And somehow found its way to the most electric crossroads on Earth.

The Moment I Realised

I didn’t follow the script society laid out for me.

I tore it up and...

Some pages in our lives are hard to reread.

They carry pain, disappointment, maybe even regret.

But just because the beginning of your book had storms,

Doesn’t mean the ending can’t be filled with sunshine.

When I look at my own story,

There were chapters I never planned.

A stroke. A sudden pause.

A moment where everything seemed to stand still.

But stillness doesn’t mean the story is over.

It simply means…

You’re turning the page.

And when you do, you get to choose what’s next.

Will it be a chapter of...