What EJAE's Song "DNA" Means to Me

Drawing An Allegory

There are some songs that stay with us not because we fully understand the technicalities of the music, but because something about them touches our inner being in a quiet way. I am not a musician, so I have zero idea about vocal arrangements, production or composition to describe why a song works the way it does.

Let me explain. When I first heard "DNA (More Than A Game)" and later watched EJAE sing it on a global stage with Andrea Bocelli, I felt unexpectedly happy for her. It was not the kind of happiness you feel when listening to a good song. It felt more personal than that, even though I do not know her personally and our lives are completely different.

I was happy for her because her moment felt like she finally received the global recognition she deserves. It made me realise things about talent, timing, platforms, and the years a person can spend working hard before the world finally acknowledges them.

Perhaps that is why her story resonated with me. It is a familiar allegory: you can work hard within a system and still feel unseen. You can keep showing up, improving, and believing that the next opportunity might come, but in the end, you realise that effort alone does not always guarantee visibility.

Sometimes, I believe the issue is not that we lack ability. Perhaps we are simply being on a platform that does not know what to do with us.

The Platforms That I Have Been On

Some years ago, I was part of an environment that spoke often about growth, leadership, and personal development. In those spaces, I learned, worked hard, stretched myself, and gave what I could based on the season of life I was in. But there were times when my effort just did not translate into visibility. To me, visibility means being given the room and opportunity to grow. I knew I was capable, but I felt underused.

Then, when I re-entered the corporate world, although I was doing the work and carrying the weight, I did not have the leverage to be placed where those strengths could be fully seen. Work and responsibilities continued. But deep down I was asking, if I really did my best and still was not seen, then what exactly was missing?

For a long time, I assumed the problem was me. I figured I was just not charismatic or outspoken enough, or good at playing the strategic game. It is so easy to turn disappointment inward and convince yourself that your lack of progress is just a 'personal growth' issue.

But over time, I see this may not always be true. I believe the reality is that not every workplace or environment is built to recognise everyone's strengths. Some places just value loudness, hierarchy, or constant self-promotion. They care about who is in the right room at the right time. Those might be valid traits, but they just aren't who I am.

When your actual strengths could not match what a specific platform happens to value, it is easy to confuse a bad culture fit with personal failure.

Finding My Place During My Master's Study

Eventually, I went back to university for my Master's degree at Sunway University. It wasn't about finding something groundbreaking, but it had since changed how I measured my own value. Suddenly, performing for corporate visibility didn't matter as much as how deeply I could think, analyse, and write.

That’s when things finally clicked for me. For the first time, the things I was naturally good at were actually recognised. Finishing with a Distinction (CGPA 3.85) was amazing, but the real shift was how my voice was received. My lecturer validated my proposed PhD topic had real potential. Beyond the classroom, I was also featured on my journey on Sunway University Online's Student Success page and video series (Choosing the Right Postgraduate Pathway; Not Just a Master's - It Made Me Better).

I realised my mind functions best in an environment that prioritises depth over loudness. I genuinely love connecting the dots, taking lived experiences, human behaviour and data, and figuring out what they reveal about larger systems.

For a long time, these traits just felt like overthinking, and they definitely didn't get immediate applause in corporate spaces. But during my Master's, they became my biggest strengths. It taught me that you don't always need to change who you are to grow; sometimes, you just need to find the right environment where your natural strengths actually make sense.

What The Song "DNA" Means to Me

This is why EJAE's DNA became more than a song to me. I know her life isn't my life, but her breakthrough performance reminded me of what happens when someone finally lands in the right place after years of unseen work.

It made me wonder if many of us spend years feeling like we are unsuccessful when the reality is just that we have been trying to shine in the wrong environment.

For a long time, I wanted to prove myself to the people and corporate spaces that overlooked me. Part of me will probably always have that instinct, because it is human nature to want old workplaces to realise you didn't lack potential. But I'm learning that I can acknowledge the sting of being overlooked without letting it drive my entire career.

A Different Plan for the Second Half of the Year

Entering July 2026 feels like the perfect time to reset. For the rest of the year, I want to be much more intentional about where I put my energy. I want to move toward spaces, like my Master's experience, where depth and thoughtfulness actually matter and where I don't have to constantly perform just to be valued.

I want to stop focusing on the doors that closed and start looking at the new possibilities quietly opening up. Maybe finding the right platform isn't about magically changing who you are. It is just about finding the place where the person you have always been is finally visible.

Some people stand out through performance or leadership. My strength has always been in thinking, writing, and analysing. If that is my personal "DNA", then that is exactly what I want to focus on moving forward.

When My Patience Ran Out Before the Day Did and Everything Feels Like the Last Straw

A Reflection on Parenting, Perimenopause and Emotional Bandwidth

Some days don't begin badly, yet by the time they end, you find yourself reacting far more strongly than you normally would.

Yesterday was one of those days. To be fair, nothing major happened. There wasn't an emergency; nobody fell sick except me, who's been prescribed with antibiotics for the next two weeks.

Looking back, it was really just an ordinary Sunday filled with the usual responsibilities that come with family life. Yet by the end of the evening, I found myself becoming irritated by almost everything.

It Started As an Ordinary Day

The afternoon was spent sending my children to and from their sports practice. That in itself wasn't unusual, but making several trips in the afternoon heat while my knee was hurting made the whole experience feel more tiring than it normally would have. The car was hot, the traffic wasn't particularly enjoyable, and by the time I had finished all the driving, I was already feeling physically drained.

Later, our dinner plans changed, which meant adjusting the evening schedule. Again, it wasn't a major problem. These things happen all the time.

When we finally sat down to eat, my meal arrived with raw onions even though I had specifically asked for them to be left out. I dislike raw onions enough that I always mention it when ordering, so seeing them sitting on top of my food was frustrating. It wasn't the end of the world, but it certainly didn't improve my mood.

When we got home, I realised my youngest hadn't really packed his school bag properly. He had simply stuffed everything inside. His worksheets were folded, crushed and crumpled to the point that I jokingly told him they looked like salted vegetables.

That was when I started nagging. Quite a lot, if I'm being honest. Somewhere in the middle of my lecture, I remember saying, "How you do small things is how you deal with big things. That's character building."

The School Bag Wasn't Really the Problem

I don't regret correcting my son. I still believe that small habits matter. Taking care of your schoolwork, putting your belongings away properly and doing simple tasks with care are all part of learning responsibility. Those habits don't develop overnight, and as parents, it is our responsibility to teach them consistently.

At the same time, I also had to ask myself whether I had really been reacting to the school bag.

Looking back over the day, it seemed more likely that my patience had already been gradually worn down long before I saw those crumpled worksheets. My son's school bag simply happened to be the last thing that required my attention after a day that already felt physically and mentally tiring.

Perhaps the school bag wasn't really the problem. It was simply the moment when I no longer had enough emotional reserve to respond with the same patience I might have had on another day.

When Your Emotional Reserves Become Smaller

That thought led me to another realisation. Over the past year, I have been made aware of perimenopause, and I have become increasingly aware that my emotional capacity is not always what it used to be.

I don't think perimenopause makes women irrational, nor do I think it creates problems where none exist. The frustrations are often genuine. A waiter who ignores a dietary request is still being inattentive. A child who carelessly stuffs important worksheets into a school bag still needs to learn responsibility.

What seems to have changed is my ability to absorb one inconvenience after another without feeling completely depleted.

There are days when I seem to move from one responsibility to the next without much opportunity to pause. Work, family schedules, driving, meals, household matters and all the countless small decisions that keep a home running don't suddenly disappear because hormones begin to fluctuate.

The responsibilities remain the same.

Sometimes, however, the emotional reserves available to deal with them become smaller. I suspect many women in midlife recognise this feeling, even if we don't always talk about it openly.

After a day of juggling work, family responsibilities, physical discomfort and countless small decisions, there simply isn't as much room left to absorb another disappointment without feeling its full weight.

Parenting Doesn't Stop Because Perimenopause Starts

One thing I don't want this reflection to become is an excuse for losing my patience.

My son still needed to be corrected. He still needs to learn that taking care of his belongings is part of becoming a responsible person. If he develops good habits now, those habits will hopefully stay with him as he grows older.

But, at the same time, it dawns on me that parenting doesn't suddenly become easier because our children grow older, and neither does it pause while we navigate the physical and emotional changes of perimenopause.

In many ways, both journeys are happening at the same time.

While my children are learning discipline, responsibility and resilience, I am learning how to manage a body that doesn't always respond the way it used to. Some days require more patience than I have readily available, and that is something I am still learning to recognise before it spills over into the people around me.

Maybe This Is Another Conversation We Need to Have

Much of the conversation around perimenopause understandably focuses on symptoms such as irregular periods, hot flushes, sleep disturbances and hormone replacement therapy. Those discussions are important because many women spend years wondering why they no longer feel like themselves.

What receives less attention, at least from what I have observed, are the small moments that happen inside our homes: the school runs, the dinner plans, the messy schoolbag, and the overflowing laundry basket.

The conversations that become sharper than we intended because our emotional bandwidth has quietly been stretched to its limit.

These moments may seem insignificant on their own, but they make up much of everyday family life.

Fun, huh?

Exploring Medovik, Russian and Uzbek Food at Torte by Linda

I first came across Torte by Linda because of its Medovik (Russian honey cake). If I remember correctly, I might have come across postings of beautiful Medoviks on social media. Instead of thick layers of sponge cake and cream, Medovik is made up of multiple thin honey cake layers held together with frosting.

Eventually, what started as a visit for cake eventually became an opportunity to explore other items on the menu. Over several visits, I found myself trying not only different Medovik flavours but also a selection of Russian and Uzbek dishes that are not commonly found in Kuala Lumpur.

More Than Just a Medovik Cake Shop

While Torte by Linda is best known for its Medovik cakes, the menu extends beyond desserts.

The restaurant serves a variety of Russian and Uzbek dishes, making it possible to enjoy a full meal before moving on to dessert. For those unfamiliar with these cuisines, like me, it offers an accessible introduction without feeling intimidating.

The Savoury Dishes I Tried

Plov (Beef)

One of the dishes I tried was the Plov (Beef). Plov is a traditional Uzbek rice dish. Also known as Uzbek Plov or palov, the version served at Torte by Linda consisted of rice cooked in oil together with beef, julienned carrots, onions, garlic, and cumin powder.

The rice was flavourful without being overly heavy, and the beef was tender and paired well with the rice. It is the type of satisfying meal that works well if you are looking for something filling without being overly rich.

Lamb Dumplings (Kurze)

Next, I tried the Kurze, braided lamb dumplings originating from the Republic of Dagestan in Russia.

At first glance, they may resemble dumplings that many Malaysians are already familiar with, but the flavour profile is quite different. The lamb filling gives them a richer and more distinctive taste.

The dumpling skin has a nice, slightly chewy but soft texture and holds the filling well without becoming overly thick. They were served with sour cream and chilli flakes, which complemented the richness of the lamb nicely.

The Russian Treats That Accompanied My Coffee

Blini

Another item I tried was the Blini. Blini are often described as Russian pancakes, although they are not quite the same as the pancakes many of us grew up eating.

The Blini at Torte by Linda is filled with homemade tvarog (cottage cheese) and served with berries and honey. It was a pleasant snack alongside coffee – simple, comforting and easy to enjoy.

Oreshki

I was also curious enough to try the Oreshki. These are walnut-shaped cookies filled with dulce de leche and chopped walnuts. Their appearance immediately stood out because they look unlike most cookies commonly found in local bakeries. They look really adorable too!

The cookie shells had a pleasant texture while the filling added sweetness without making them overly rich. They are small enough to enjoy in a few bites, making them ideal as an accompaniment to tea or coffee.

The Medovik that I Have Tried at Torte by Linda

Of course, no visit to Torte by Linda would feel complete without Medovik. In fact, over time, I managed to try four different flavours.

Raspberry Pistachio Medovik

This is Raspberry Pistachio Medovik. The slight tartness from the raspberry helped balance the sweetness of the cake, while the pistachio added a subtle nuttiness. The combination worked surprisingly well and gave the cake a lighter overall profile.

Pistachio Kunafa Chocolate Medovik

This Pistachio Kunafa Chocolate Medovik was probably the most contemporary interpretation of the traditional Medovik. The chocolate added richness while the kunafa element introduced additional texture. It felt like a fusion dessert that combined influences from different regions into a single cake.

Check out my IG reel of this Pistachio Kunafa Chocolate Medovik to see what the insides of the cake looked like.

Honeymisu Medovik

The Honeymisu was perhaps the most memorable flavour I tried because I love the traditional tiramisu.

According to the menu description, it combines baked honey cake layers with infused espresso coffee, light mascarpone frosting and cocoa powder.

Those familiar with tiramisu will immediately recognise the inspiration behind the flavour profile. The coffee notes paired well with the honey cake layers, creating a dessert that felt familiar while still remaining distinctly Medovik.

Check out my IG reel of this Honeymisu Medovik to see what the insides of the cake looked like.

Chocolate Honey Medovik

The Chocolate Honey Medovik offered a more straightforward combination of chocolate and honey flavours. Compared to the Raspberry Pistachio and Honeymisu variations, this version leaned more towards richness. It would likely appeal to those who generally prefer chocolate-based desserts.

Would I Return to Torte by Linda?

Absolutely, without a doubt! The restaurant's ambience is soothing and perfect for coffee and dessert, especially for anyone curious about trying Russian and Uzbek food. Torte by Linda offers an approachable place to start. And if you only have room for one dessert, my recommendation would be any of the Medovik cakes.

Address: Lot No B-G-06, Eight Kinrara, Jalan BK 5A/1, Bandar Kinrara, 47180 Puchong.

Check out their social media links via their Linktree.

Note: This is not a paid collaboration or advertorial. All opinions expressed are my own, based on my personal dining experience at Torte by Linda.

The Cost of Staying Well: What Happens Between Healthy and Hospitalised?

Recently, I came across two articles that, at first glance, seemed to have little in common.

The first discussed rising healthcare costs in Malaysia and argued that preventive healthcare is one of the most effective ways to reduce long-term healthcare expenditure.

The second explored perimenopause and menopause, highlighting how many women experience symptoms such as fatigue, anxiety, sleep disruption, brain fog and declining confidence, often without realising that hormonal changes may be contributing to these experiences.

One was about healthcare economics, whereas the other was about women's health.

The Growing Cost of Chronic Disease

For more context, Malaysia is facing a growing burden of non-communicable diseases (NCDs). Diabetes, cardiovascular disease, obesity and cancer continue to place pressure on individuals, families, employers, insurers and healthcare providers.

Traditionally, conversations around healthcare costs have focused on hospital bills, insurance premiums and access to treatment.

Increasingly, however, healthcare experts are pointing towards prevention as a more sustainable solution.

The logic seems straightforward.

If fewer people develop chronic diseases, healthcare utilisation may decrease. If diseases are detected earlier, treatment is often simpler, less invasive and less costly than managing advanced-stage conditions.

From both a health and economic perspective, prevention appears to make perfect sense.

At least on paper.

The Prevention Paradox

The more I think about it, the more I wonder whether there is a gap in how we think about healthcare financing.

Many Malaysians are already investing in their health long before they receive a diagnosis.

We pay out of pocket for health screenings, consultations, supplements, fitness programmes, nutrition advice, menopause-related care and other preventive measures aimed at maintaining our wellbeing.

Yet much of the healthcare financing system remains designed around treatment rather than prevention. Support often becomes available only after a condition has been diagnosed or progressed to a stage that requires medical intervention.

This creates an interesting paradox.

We say prevention is important. We acknowledge that early intervention can improve outcomes and potentially reduce long-term healthcare costs.

We recognise that conditions such as diabetes, cardiovascular disease and even some cancers are influenced by years of accumulated risk factors.

Yet many of the costs associated with prevention continue to be borne primarily by individuals.

The result is a system where staying healthy can sometimes feel like a personal expense, while becoming sick unlocks access to healthcare benefits.

This is not a criticism of insurers, healthcare providers or policymakers. Healthcare financing is complex, and resources are finite.

However, it does raise an important question:

If prevention is truly the goal, how do we better support people during the years before they become patients?

The Missing Middle

This is where I think an important conversation is missing.

We often divide people into two groups: healthy and sick.

But real life is rarely that simple.

Between being healthy and being hospitalised lies a stage that many people will experience at some point in their lives, a period where health may be declining and symptoms may be emerging, yet a diagnosis has not been made.

They may not have a formal diagnosis. They may not require immediate medical intervention. Yet they do not feel 100% well.

They may be experiencing chronic fatigue, poor sleep, anxiety, hormonal changes, weight gain, declining fitness, elevated blood sugar, rising cholesterol or persistent stress.

These individuals occupy what I think of as the "missing middle" of healthcare, a space that receives far less attention than it deserves.

They are not seeking treatment for disease, but neither are they simply pursuing wellness. They are trying to prevent a decline in health before it becomes something more serious.

What Perimenopause Can Teach Us About Prevention

Perimenopause provides a useful example.

Many women in their forties and fifties experience significant physical, emotional and cognitive changes.

Sleep becomes disrupted. Energy levels decline. Concentration becomes more difficult. Anxiety may appear for the first time. Confidence may be affected.

At the very stage of life when women are being encouraged to exercise, manage their weight and reduce long-term health risks, they may be facing barriers that make these goals considerably harder to achieve.

The challenge is not a lack of knowledge. The challenge is that life circumstances and biological changes influence behaviour.

This is why prevention cannot be reduced to simple messages such as "exercise more" or "eat better".

Human beings are more complicated than that.

A Question Worth Exploring

As Malaysia grapples with rising healthcare costs, an ageing population and increasing rates of chronic disease, conversations about prevention will become even more important.

Bank Negara Malaysia's recent efforts to improve the sustainability of Medical and Health Insurance/Takaful plans reflect a broader recognition that healthcare financing cannot continue indefinitely without addressing utilisation and long-term health outcomes.

At the same time, healthcare providers continue to advocate for earlier screening, better health literacy and greater preventive care, while conversations around issues such as perimenopause remind us that many health challenges begin long before a formal diagnosis is made.

Yet an important question remains.

If prevention is truly the goal, how do we support people during the years before they become patients?

The more I think about it, the more I realise that the conversation about preventive healthcare may not simply be a healthcare conversation.

It is also a conversation about value.

Today, healthcare systems are exceptionally good at treating illness. Hospitals, specialists, medications and insurance plans are largely designed to respond once a medical condition has been identified.

But the years before a diagnosis are often less visible.

This is the period when individuals begin noticing subtle changes in their health, whether that is rising cholesterol levels, declining fitness, persistent fatigue, poor sleep, hormonal changes or other early warning signs that something may be shifting.

Many choose to take action during this period. They invest in screenings, exercise, nutritional support, health coaching, mental wellbeing and other preventive measures, often at their own expense.

The question is whether we place enough value on these efforts.

If prevention is truly the future of sustainable healthcare, perhaps the challenge is not only how to treat disease more effectively, but also how to recognise and support the work people do to stay well in the first place.

Which brings me back to the question that started this reflection:

What happens between "healthy" and "hospitalised"?

Because that space may hold some of the most important opportunities for improving health outcomes, reducing long-term healthcare costs and rethinking how we approach prevention altogether.

References

Opinion: Preventive healthcare — An effective path to lower healthcare costs

Puberty in reverse: inside the powerful Front & Female conversation on menopause and perimenopause

The Silent NCD Crisis In Malaysia: A Public Health Warning — Assistant Medical Officer

BNM To Strenghten Rules On Medical Insurance As Base MHIT Plan Rolls Out