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

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!

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Preparing for the Care We Rarely Talk About

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

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

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.

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