My Surprise 45th Birthday in Bangkok with Family at Nobu

I turned 45 in a way I really didn’t expect.

On the morning of my birthday, it started like any other morning we’ve had in Bangkok. I followed my boyfriend to the office for a cup of coffee, but that day he said he wanted a haircut first, so I tagged along. After that, we went to his office, and he told me to wait for him so we could head back to the hotel together and maybe have lunch later.

Back at the hotel, he had a conference call. I was thinking of going for a run, but realised I had forgotten my socks (classic me), so I stayed in the room, played some games and just waited.

Then the doorbell rang.

I opened the door and just froze.

There were my siblings, nieces and nephew standing there with a cake, singing happy birthday. I was honestly stunned. It took a few seconds for it to register that they were really there, in Bangkok, as a surprise for me.

Apparently, my boyfriend had been planning this for two weeks — hahaa, so not him actually. Especially with how busy and stressed he has been with work, it made me feel even more grateful.

In the evening, we went to Nobu, a place my boyfriend had wanted to go to for a while, so he made it part of the celebration. High above the city on a rooftop, with Bangkok lights around us, it felt like a special occasion in every sense.

(Original photo recreated to protect the privacy of my niece and nephews.)

We talked nonsense, laughed and caught up on life. It was fancy — not really my style — too atas... but because he had arranged it, it felt meaningful. And somehow, what made it special wasn’t the place, but simply having everyone there together.

I think at this age, I don’t really need big celebrations. But this meant a lot — the effort, the thought behind it, and just having family around me.

And thanks to my boyfriend and my siblings for keeping this so quiet from me. There was so much thought and effort behind this surprise, and I felt deeply grateful. It was more than a celebration — it became one of those simple but meaningful memories I know I’ll return to often. 💛

May xx

International Women’s Day: The Strength of Women We Don’t Always See

When I think about International Women’s Day, I don’t immediately think about famous leaders or historical figures.

Instead, I think about the women I have met throughout my life — women who may never receive recognition but have shaped who I am in small and meaningful ways.

When people talk about strong women, they often imagine something dramatic. A powerful speech, a major achievement, or a moment of recognition in front of a crowd.

But over time, I’ve realised that strength does not always look like that.

Some of the strongest women I have met are simply people living their lives with resilience.

They wake up early every day to support their families. They manage work, responsibilities, and relationships while still finding time to care for others. Life is not always easy, but they continue moving forward.

Their strength is not loud.

Sometimes it appears as patience in difficult moments. Sometimes it is the ability to endure challenges quietly. Sometimes it simply looks like kindness in small gestures.

During my travels with World Vision, I met many mothers who carried enormous responsibilities. Their circumstances were not easy, yet they remained deeply committed to providing a better future for their children. Watching them reminded me that resilience is often built in ordinary moments — in the decisions people make every day to keep going.

These women may never appear in newspapers or history books, but their influence is real. Their efforts shape the lives of their families and communities, and their strength leaves a lasting impact on the next generation.

I also think back to the Malaysia Women's Marathon in 2019. My youngest sister and her daughter ran the 5km, while my second sister and I tackled the 21km. It wasn’t about winning or comparing distances — it was about sharing the experience, cheering each other on, and celebrating what each of us could do in our own way.

That day reminded me that strength looks different for everyone. Sometimes it’s running long distances; sometimes it’s simply showing up and taking the first step. Either way, the support we give each other makes all the difference.

International Women’s Day is often associated with messages about empowerment, equality, and progress. Those conversations matter, and the progress made over the years is important.

But for me, the day is also a quiet reminder to notice the everyday strength that surrounds us.

The women who continue showing up, even when life is difficult.

The women who care deeply for others.

The women who quietly hold families and communities together.

Sometimes the most meaningful lessons about strength don’t come from famous stories. They come from the women we meet every day — my sisters, my nieces, the mothers I’ve met, the friends I lean on. And it’s their courage, quiet resilience, and care that shapes the way I move through the world.

May xx

CNY Feels Different

Chinese New Year hasn’t felt the same for 12 years.

After Mum passed, the season became something I quietly tried to avoid. The noise, the visits, the reunion dinners — all of it felt too heavy without her.

But we still showed up for Grandma. Every year, we gathered, ate together, talked about small things, and pretended everything was normal. I realise now those years were her way of holding the family together.

When Grandma left us 4 years ago, the reunion dinners stopped. No one said it out loud. It just… faded.

Since then, CNY has been a strange mix of silence and memories. I still think of Mum, busy doing all the marketing and stuffing the fridge with enough food to last for days. Till today, we still wonder how she did it — like some magic black box.

Every year we had steamboat — except the year Mum passed. That year, I booked a table at Vistana Hotel because she wasn’t able to prepare. We didn’t know it would be her last Chinese New Year.

Some years we used charcoal, some years electric, but we always preferred charcoal. There was just something about the smell and the heat that made it feel right. Mum would wake up early to prepare everything, and I would help arrange the plates and ingredients. We even had our fixed seating — Mum closest to the kitchen so she could top up the soup easily, Grandma beside her.

Laughing, arguing, fighting over sotong balls.

All those small, ordinary moments… now they are the ones I miss the most.

This year, I did something different. I travelled and spent the holiday quietly with my boyfriend. No hot pot, no visiting. Just the two of us, a slower CNY. It helped a little.

Grief still comes, but so does gratitude. I’m thankful for the memories, for the love they gave us, and for the chance to keep going in our own way.

I still miss them. Every year. Every CNY.

But I know they would want us to keep celebrating life, even in small ways.

Wishing everyone a gentle Chinese New Year — good health, warm meals, and people to sit around the table with. If you’re missing someone this season, you’re not alone.

Gong Xi Fa Cai. ❤️

May x

My Running Journey

I wasn’t athletic when I was young. I loved running, but I was never fast enough to compete properly. The only “competitions” I joined were school sports days, running for my house. That was about it.

After I started working, keeping fit wasn’t a priority at all. Exercise wasn’t even in my dictionary. Running? Training? A healthy lifestyle? I didn’t think about any of that. Life was about work, getting things done, and moving on to the next thing.

I started running again in 2012 with my 🐷 sister and her friend, our adik bongbongsu. My first run was a 10km race. No training. I honestly thought, “How hard can 10km be?” Trust me — it was brutal. My legs were so sore I walked like a crab for days.

But somehow, I went back for more. Slowly, my sister and I continued this running journey together. She has always been my biggest motivator to keep running. My second race — again, with no proper training — was 17km. Painful, tiring, uncomfortable… yet I started to enjoy these little tortures and challenges. Our motto back then was “lambat janji sampai” — and I added “dan selamat”. Years ago, there were quite a lot of accidents during races. It was scary. Finishing safely mattered more than speed.

I couldn’t fully commit to running at that time because I was doing my degree and later my master’s, mostly on weekends. But once I completed my studies in 2016, I ran whenever I could. Weekends became running days. I met many running friends through events. I even flew to nearby “overseas” destinations just to run, because there weren’t many running events in Penang back then. I was addicted.

There were podium finishes at small races. The excitement. The community. The routine.

Then COVID happened. Everything stopped. We were locked inside our homes. I lost my running momentum. I lost touch with my running friends. When things slowly opened up again, work took over. My job demanded more time and presence, and running became my way to release stress rather than something competitive. Events no longer crossed my mind — I never knew where I would be in a few months’ time anyway.

I still enjoy running a lot. Training matters. Friends matter. Having people around you makes a difference — you push each other, encourage each other, and show up together. Most of those friends are now on their own paths, and that’s okay. Fair play to them. I’ve been away from home for a long time since COVID. I left Penang. I left Malaysia.

Running stayed — just in a different form.

Age is catching up — I feel it. Recovery takes longer. Niggles don’t disappear overnight. I’m not as fearless as I was in my twenties, and I don’t bounce back the same way anymore. But I also know myself better now.

I don’t want to run aimlessly anymore. I want objectives. I want goals. Not to prove anything to anyone. Not to chase podiums. But to give my running a direction again — something to work towards, something that makes me show up even on days when motivation is low.

This comeback isn’t about being faster than others. It’s about being consistent with myself. Training smarter. Respecting my body. Setting realistic targets — whether that’s finishing strong, improving endurance, staying injury-free, or simply showing up week after week.

I’ve learnt that running changes as you age, and that’s okay. These days, my goal is simple — finish the run and enjoy the race. No pressure, no chasing others, just showing up and getting it done.

This comeback is quieter, more intentional, and hopefully more meaningful in its own way.

May x

New Year, New Chapters

Image created with Microsoft Designer 

It’s hard to believe we’ve already stepped into 2025. The past year feels like a bit of a blur—work was exhausting, something I really didn’t want to do, but I took it on to help out, and yes, I did get paid for it. I even signed up for a PhD program, though it’s currently on hold while I balance the responsibilities I’ve been managing. Travelling with my boyfriend was incredible—exploring new places and sharing those experiences together. I managed to do three runs throughout 2024—two full marathons and a half marathon. I’m hopeful I’ll get more opportunities to run this year. I also fell sick quite a bit and struggled to stay motivated with my workouts, which made the year feel like a mix of ups and downs.

As I sit with my morning coffee, I’m thinking about how much I want this year to be about slowing down—not to do less, but to approach things with more heart and focus on what really matters… starting with the people I love.

There’s so much I want to cherish this year: catching up with family, spending more time with my boyfriend, and finding joy in our everyday moments.

Our journey together hasn’t always been easy. There’s been grief, sacrifice, and many adjustments as we’ve tried to build a life that works for both of us. I know my boyfriend, after losing his wife and dedicating so much of himself to his children, has been carrying a heavy load. Sometimes, it feels like we’re worlds apart, but I want to change that. I want us to find more moments where we truly connect—where we’re not just going through the motions but actually living and enjoying each other’s company.

We’ve both made sacrifices along the way, and I don’t regret any of them. But I can’t help wishing for more—more shared moments, more laughter, and more things we can enjoy together. It’s tough when we don’t always have much in common beyond work, and that’s something I want to change. This year, I hope we can find new activities to do together—things that bring us closer and bring joy as a couple.

I’m not working anymore, and it’s given me time to reflect on what truly makes me happy. What I want most this year is to create a life where we both feel fulfilled—where we’re not just surviving but truly living together.

If you’re reading this, I hope the new year brings you good things too. Let’s make space for what truly matters.

May x

Cherishing Time Together

Life has a way of teaching us its most profound lessons when we least expect it. One of those lessons came through witnessing my mother's journey, especially during her final moments. It was a lesson about the preciousness of family time and the deep regret I felt for not having cherished it more when I had the chance.

Life often keeps us busy, with our attention divided among numerous responsibilities, commitments, and ambitions. In pursuing our dreams, we sometimes forget the very foundation that supports us — our family. It took a wake-up call to realise the significance of spending more quality time with my family.

Image created with Microsoft Designer 

My mother's impending health challenges served as a stark wake-up call. Knowing that her time with us was limited made me reevaluate my priorities. I wished I had recognised the importance of family bonding earlier without needing a reminder of life's impermanence.

Our presence, our time, is one of the most valuable gifts we can give our family. It's not about grand gestures or extravagant vacations; it's about the everyday moments we share, the conversations over dinner, the laughter during family mahjong nights, and the support we offer during challenging times.

In our fast-paced world, it's easy to get caught up in the demands of work, personal goals, and social activities. However, it's crucial to strike a balance and ensure our family doesn't take a back seat. Allocating dedicated family time on a regular basis is a choice we won't regret.

Family time isn't just about being physically present; it's about being emotionally present as well. These moments create lasting memories that will be cherished long after our loved ones are gone.

The lesson I learned from my mother's situation is clear: the time we spend with our family is a treasure. It's a lesson I wish I had fully grasped earlier. If I could turn back time, I would have devoted even more moments to creating memories and strengthening the bonds with my family.

With my mother's passing and the geographical distance that separates me from my siblings, staying connected has become even more crucial. Thankfully, we live in an era where technology has made it easier than ever to bridge the physical gaps that may separate us.

Let us not wait for wake-up calls. Prioritise family today and ensure our time together is filled with love, laughter, and cherished memories.

May x