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 do 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 eventually 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 research topic and indicated it has real potential.

Beyond the classroom, my journey as a Master of Marketing postgraduate student (also a working mother) was published 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 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.

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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?

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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.

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What My Favourite Star Wars Character Says About Me

Note: This post started when I casually mentioned to my AI assistant that my favourite Star Wars character is Rotta the Hutt. What followed was an unexpectedly thoughtful discussion about identity, family legacies, and why a former baby Hutt managed to become one of the most relatable characters in the galaxy. The Star Wars opinions are mine. The psychological unpacking was a team effort. 😄

A few days ago, I had an interesting conversation with my ChatGPT. The discussion started with me asking about Star Wars characters and the types of personalities that tend to like them.

ChatGPT described that fans of Din Djarin might value loyalty and responsibility; fans of Ahsoka might admire independence and integrity; and fans of Obi-Wan might appreciate wisdom and resilience.

Then ChatGPT asked me: So, who's your favourite character? Can you guess what was my answer?

Rotta the Hutt

For those unfamiliar with Star Wars lore, Rotta is the son of Jabba the Hutt. And I meant Rotta the Hutt from the 2026 movie, Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu.

What I find most interesting about Rotta is that he seems determined not to become his father. For context: Jabba the Hutt is an untouchable, ruthless mob boss in Star Wars.

In The Mandalorian and Grogu movie, the scene (spoiler alert!) that really stayed with me was when he chose to remain behind and help the New Republic. It wasn't a flashy or heroic moment. It was simply a choice to do something different from what people might have expected of a Hutt.

ChatGPT suggested that perhaps the character resonated with me because of my own experiences growing up. Like many people who grew up with challenging family dynamics, part of my identity was shaped by what I wanted to avoid; for example, not wanting to repeat certain behaviours or to make the same mistakes and decisions.

I had never connected those thoughts to a Star Wars character before. Yet when I look at Rotta's story, I can see why it resonates. He inherited a reputation and certain expectations and assumptions about who he would become. Instead, he chose a different path.

What Fictional Characters Reveal About Us

Of course, this is where fiction and real life differ. In real life, change is usually much messier than a character arc. There isn't a single defining moment when we suddenly become a different person.

Instead, we make hundreds of small decisions over many years, e.g., who we spend time with, how we treat people, what values we prioritise, and how we respond when life becomes difficult.

I used to avoid becoming the person I didn't want to become. These days, I think I'm more motivated in becoming the kind of person I respect, i.e., someone who keeps learning and contributes meaningfully through her work.

Perhaps that is why I like Rotta. Not just because he rejected his father's legacy, but because he chose to build his own.

I guess that's why certain characters stay with us. It's not because they are the strongest or the most heroic, but because they reflect questions we have been asking ourselves all along.

For me, Rotta's story is not really about a Hutt choosing a different path.

We are not limited to the stories we inherit. We are also shaped by the choices we make, and sometimes, those choices matter more than where we started.

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The Unexpected Joy of Learning Korean Through Food (Featuring Seoul Gukbap 1988)

When I started learning Korean (한국어) and Hangeul (한글) seriously about two weeks ago, my goal was fairly simple: hopefully in a year or so, I'd be able to understand conversations in K-dramas without depending on the subtitles, sing along to my favourite 블랙핑크 (BLACKPINK) songs, and go for more trips to South Korea a little more confidently.

But recently, I've discovered that learning Hangeul has added a whole new layer of enjoyment to Korean food. Previously, dishes like 육개장 (yukgaejang), 순대 (sundae), and 국밥 (gukbap) were simply menu items with names I couldn't read.

Now, whenever I see a Korean menu, I find myself sounding out familiar words and quietly celebrating each small victory when I recognise a dish or even manage to pronounce it correctly.

So when my husband and I visited Seoul Gukbap 1988 at Desa ParkCity for our early wedding anniversary meal, I found myself looking at the menu as if I were reading a Korean dictionary.

Starting with Gukbap

The restaurant specialises in 국밥 (gukbap), one of Korea's most beloved comfort foods.

The word itself is wonderfully straightforward. 국 (guk) means soup, while 밥 (bap) means rice. When you put the two words together, they describe a complete meal of soup and rice, a dish that defines generations of Koreans.

It may not be the type of food that usually goes viral on social media. It is humble, practical, and comforting. Totally my kind of meal – underrated and not hyped.

시래기 뼈해장국 (Siraegi Ppyeo Haejangguk)

That day, I ordered the 시래기 뼈해장국 (Siraegi Ppyeo Haejangguk).

The name sounds intimidating at first, but let's break it down to makes it less mysterious. 시래기 (siraegi) means dried radish greens, 뼈 (ppyeo) means bone, and 해장국 (haejangguk) is often translated as a "hangover soup" traditionally eaten to recover after a night of drinking.

What arrived was a steaming bowl of properly simmered pork broth, packed with bold flavour, large chunks of pork backbone, and vegetables. It was hearty, satisfying, and exactly the kind of meal that satisfies both my heart and soul.

육개장 (Yukgaejang)

One of the words I recognised on the menu was 육개장 (Yukgaejang). A Korean comfort food classic, Yukgaejang is a spicy beef soup and also happens to be my husband's default order whenever we visit a Korean restaurant that isn't serving Korean barbecue.

Compared to the pork backbone soup, Yukgaejang has a bolder flavour profile. The broth is rich, spicy, and packed with shredded beef brisket and vegetables.

Side Dishes Worth Sharing

순대 (Sundae)

We ordered 순대 (Sundae), Korea's famous blood sausage. For those unfamiliar with Korean cuisine, sundae can seem intimidating at first. Yet it remains one of Korea's most popular traditional foods and can be found everywhere from street food stalls to restaurants.

Initially, I wanted to order the 순대국밥 (Sundae Gukbap), a hearty rice soup featuring Korean blood sausage and offal. However, the 시래기 뼈해장국 (Siraegi Ppyeo Haejangguk) eventually won me over. Not wanting to completely abandon my sundae ambitions, I simply dropped a few pieces into my soup instead.

고기만두 (Gogi Mandu)

We also ordered 고기만두 (Gogi Mandu), or meat dumplings. 고기 (gogi) means meat, and 만두 (mandu) means dumplings. These were warm, juicy, and comforting in the way good dumplings always are.

부추 바지락전 (Buchu Bajirak Jeon)

Much to our surprise, the team at Seoul Gukbap 1988 treated us to the 부추 바지락전 (Buchu Bajirak Jeon), a savoury pancake made with chives and clams. Thank you for the lovely gesture!

부추 (buchu) means chives, 바지락 (bajirak) means clams, and 전 (jeon) refers to a Korean savoury pancake. Put together, it means chive and clam pancake. Crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, it paired wonderfully with our rice and soup dishes.

김치 (Kimchi)

Learning Korean Through Food

As I continue learning Korean, I realise that language study is about more than vocabulary lists and grammar exercises. Sometimes, it's as simple as celebrating the small victory of being able to read a menu in Korean!

Perhaps that is why I enjoyed this meal more than I expected.

The food was delicious, certainly. But what stayed with me was definitely the quiet satisfaction of recognising a few words and feeling slightly closer to a culture that I have grown increasingly fond of.

For someone who spent her childhood reading dictionaries for fun, perhaps this was inevitable. These days, I find myself sounding out Korean words on restaurant menus. And honestly, I think my younger self would have approved.

About Seoul Gukbap 1988

Address: A-G-10, Plaza Arkadia, Jalan Residen 3, Desa Parkcity, 52200 Kuala Lumpur

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My Creative Type (Updated) from Adobe Create Quiz

When I took Adobe's Creative Types quiz in 2022 to discover the power of my creative strengths, my result was The Dreamer.

The Regenerator

This time, I took the same quiz again, and the result was The Regenerator.

Based on the description, my sharp and analytical mind is constantly at work, investigating the world and methodically solving problems. I tend to apply new ways of thinking to old challenges, evolving them from within rather than discarding them entirely.

Setbacks are seen as opportunities for reinvention. Apparently, I like breaking things down, understanding their essential parts, and reassembling them into something stronger. I also bring a sense of resilience and adaptability to every challenge I face.

My creativity is rooted in keen observation. A deep care for the world inspires me to look closely at ideas, systems, and structures to find ways to improve and adapt them. When limitations present themselves, I reinvent. Dismantling and deconstruction become necessary parts of the creative process.

I'm not particularly drawn to flashy disruption or abstract ideals. Instead, I believe in thoughtful restoration and repair. I understand that outdated ways of thinking have contributed to problems, and I'm willing to rebuild from the inside out. I focus on structural integrity and long-term impact.

I also tend to work best in solitude, with ample time for deep focus and reflection.

Zone of genius: Adaptive problem-solving

Deepest aspiration: Overcoming challenges

Growth opportunity: Staying positive and motivated

Creative partner: The Luminary

The full description of "The Regenerator" can be found here.

You can also take Adobe's "Creative Types" quiz if you're curious to discover your own creative strengths.

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Why My Dreams Became Medical Dramas

Note: This blog post is written after recounting a series of vivid hospital-themed dreams that stayed with me long after waking up. My AI assistant later helped me explore the strange intersection between healthcare, identity, midlife transitions, and the subconscious. What emerged was unexpectedly thoughtful.

The Strange Psychology of Dreaming About Hospitals

Recently, I had two unusually vivid dreams.

In one dream, I saw my own obituary, except the face on the obituary wasn't mine. Somehow, I was supposed to have died as a terminal patient, but I had apparently "skipped" the obituary and was still alive, travelling, and moving through life.

At one point, I saw a hospital administration placard that mentioned a patient code being recalled because the patient was "no longer in danger". Then someone casually asked me how I was coping because I had "coded twice".

A few weeks later, I had another vivid hospital-related dream. This time, what began as a period somehow became a miscarriage (blood everywhere)! I was in a hospital again, while a specialist looked visibly perplexed, trying to figure out what was wrong.

I now think somewhere between these two dreams, my subconscious has fully absorbed the healthcare ecosystem.

When Your Subconscious Starts Speaking in Medical Language

I have spent years orbiting around healthcare environments, not as a clinician but close enough to absorb their rhythms, language, systems, and emotional atmosphere.

Think hospital corridors, medical terminology, patient journeys, specialist consultations, disease awareness campaigns, and conversations about survival, prevention, treatment, uncertainty, and recovery.

Over time, healthcare stopped feeling like merely an industry I worked around. It became one of the ecosystems through which I understand human life itself.

And perhaps that is why my subconscious now processes emotional transition using hospital logic. This truly feels deeply symbolic and hilariously bureaucratic. LOL.

The Hospital as a Psychological Space

The more I reflected on these dreams, the more I realised hospitals carry symbolic meaning far beyond illness.

Hospitals are transitional spaces. People enter them suspended between "before" and "after". Between uncertainty and diagnosis, sickness and recovery, fear and relief.

Perhaps that is why hospitals appear so frequently in emotionally significant dreams. It's not necessarily because we are afraid of death but because hospitals represent moments where human beings are forced to confront vulnerability and survival beyond our control.

And maybe that is also why neither of my dreams actually felt frightening. Both dreams ended with continuity, i.e., the patient survived, the code was recalled; life continued, and people were checking if I was okay.

So, my dreams were not about endings. They were about recovery.

Midlife Changes the Way You Think About the Body

Perhaps midlife changes the symbolic role the body plays in our subconscious.

As younger adults, many of us unconsciously assume the body will simply cooperate forever.

Then one day, as you age, you start to notice the hormonal shifts, fatigue, the need for health screenings, preventive healthcare, specialists' consultations, and the growing awareness that health is not guaranteed.

Perhaps my dreams are simply reflecting that transition and a growing awareness of the body as something that requires care, interpretation, maintenance, and attention.

Maybe This Is Also What Healing Looks Like

What fascinated me most was not the medical imagery itself, but the emotional tone.

In the dreams, I was calm and almost nostalgic, as though my subconscious was not warning me about something but quietly processing a difficult season I had already survived.

I still do not know exactly what these dreams "mean". Maybe dreams are less prophetic than reflective. Or maybe they simply borrow the emotional vocabulary of the worlds we spend the most time inhabiting.

And perhaps after years spent around hospitals, specialists, patient stories, disease education, and healthcare systems, my subconscious has decided this is now the language it understands best.

Which honestly explains a lot. 😭

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Apparently You Can Floss Religiously and STILL End Up at the Dentist 😭

I Need to Defend Myself First

I need to clear something up first. I'm not one of those people who only floss right before dental appointments.

I actually brush and floss twice a day religiously and consistently: in the morning and at night, with the kind of commitment, discipline, and optimism of someone who thought she was doing reasonably okay. 😄

And yet… I ended up at the dentist this week because I've been having gum pain on the lower right side of my jaw for about one week.

So I finally went to see Dr Priyanka at Pantai Hospital Kuala Lumpur. She took one look and basically confirmed, "Yes, the gum is infected."

And there was even pus coming out from one side.

Alamak. This is exactly the kind of sentence you want to hear while lying under bright dental lights. 😭

The Annoying Reality of Teeth Crowding and Periodontitis

For context, I already knew I have periodontitis (gum disease). I also have teeth crowding, which means certain areas are harder to clean no matter how disciplined you are.

So despite regular brushing and flossing, bacteria can still accumulate deep around crowded areas and gum pockets.

Adult life is really humbling sometimes. And yes, dental treatments are usually excluded from insurance claims, which makes the whole experience even more annoying.

Oral health maintenance is one of those things that quietly becomes expensive over time. I've actually written before about my frustrations with how costly healthcare is becoming; you can read more about it in this blog post.

Okay, back to periodontitis. Look, periodontitis is not one of those "buy better toothbrushes and toothpastes, and magically everything disappears" situations.

It's more of an ongoing management thing, which could include damage control, you know, trying to keep bad oral bacteria from turning your gums into a war zone.

After cleaning the infected gum, Dr Priyanka also sent me to the imaging department to do an OPG (orthopantomogram) x-ray so that she could evaluate the condition beneath the gums and around the bone support more thoroughly.

So at the next appointment, the treatment plan for my periodontitis will be based on what she sees from the X-ray findings, which honestly makes me feel both reassured… and slightly nervous. 😭

Apparently my adulthood is just going from "Yay, no cavities" to "Let's evaluate the bone support around your teeth for a no-extraction plan."

Character development indeed. 😄

I Came Home with Antibiotics and Oral Probiotics

After the X-ray, I came home with antibiotics to clear the infection and BioGaia Prodentis Lozenges.

Now THIS caught my attention. Because I've always associated probiotics with gut health. You know… yoghurt drinks and digestive health commercials.

But oral probiotics?

So today I learnt that our mouth has its own microbiome too, which means our mouth is basically an entire ecosystem – a tiny bacterial civilisation with good residents and problematic residents.

The oral probiotic lozenges are meant to support healthier bacterial balance in the mouth. The strain inside this one is Lactobacillus reuteri, which has been studied in relation to gum health and oral inflammation.

So now every morning for the next five days, I will be taking the antibiotics. Then, every night for the next 30 days, I will be taking one lozenge in my mouth while reflecting on how adulthood slowly turns all of us into people with highly specific wellness routines. 😄

Did You Know That Oral Health Would Become This Technical?

Honestly, if you told my younger self that one day I would care deeply about:

- gum pockets

- gum infection

- oral microbiome balance

- probiotic strains

…I would not have believed you.

The funny thing is: when people talk about health maintenance, we usually think about exercise, skincare, hormones, supplements, sleep…

But oral health quietly sits there like, "Excuse me. I, too, can become expensive if ignored."

And to be fair to me, I wasn't completely ignoring it. That's the frustrating part.

Fun Facts I Learnt From This Dental Episode

- Sometimes even when you are trying your best, chronic conditions still need ongoing maintenance, especially something like periodontitis.

- Teeth crowding (which can be genetic, thank you very much) can make cleaning difficult even with good habits of consistent brushing and flossing.

- Gum infections can still happen despite consistent oral care.

- Oral probiotics are apparently a real thing now.

And perhaps most importantly:

Adulting is just progressively collecting more specialised healthcare products over time. 😄

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

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.

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