In 2020 I was turning thirty and I was feeling like it was my time! I decided to take my career seriously. Up until this time, my progress was slow and I was tired of waiting for things to happen. I felt the motivation to go and take charge of my life all thanks to the rude awakening that a successful creative career doesn’t just happen and certainly not behind the safety of my Instagram account. I was choosing bravery and ready to take all the risk. 

I started off that year with big “get what’s mine” energy. With New Year’s resolutions coinciding with a January birthday, it’s easy to get that kind of gumption. I had my first yes to a pitch from the fashion brand, Avavav. I applied and was accepted as an art presenter at Alt Summit, which was my first live illustration event. I went to New York Fashion Week to illustrate live while I was still breastfeeding (I pumped between shows). Holy shit, how did I do that? It was all that gumption. 

That success high would come to a screeching halt when the pandemic shut the world down in March. I look back at the past three years and see that in saying yes to my life, I said yes to being thrown into the refiners fire. That fire included both pushing me to my creative limits – a test to see if I was serious about having a successful creative career – and removing the impurities, the bad habits and hurtful ideals that have been holding me back.

Facing those impurities was the hardest thing. My world was turned upside down and my understanding of who I am was jostled against life long principles that no longer made sense. Asian-American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month was more widely recognized during the pandemic. What should've been a joyous and historical occasion brought about the clashing of my ethnic and national identity when a brutal history was revealed. Lastly, I finally saw the ways in which my religious upbringing held me back and punched me down as a woman and as a woman of color. I was completely lost. Desperate to feel grounded, I became manic, busying myself with online classes, in-door exercise, and mommying. My memories of these activities are a fog and the evidence that I spent my time doing these activities resides only in my iPhone photo gallery. This is my first time processing the past three years in words. A simpler and in a non demeaning way of explaining what I went through was that I felt I was going crazy. 

In Michelle Obama’s new book, The Light We Carry, she says this in the introduction:

Many of the people I hear from are trying to locate their power inside of the institutions, traditions, and structures that weren’t built for them attempting to scan for land mines and map boundaries, many of them ill-defined, and hard to see. The penalties for failing to avoid these obstacles can be devastating. They can be mildly confusing and dangerous, this stuff.

In January I turned thirty-three. I am typically a big birthday recognizer and celebrator, but since entering my thirties with lots of gumption followed by exhaustion and memory loss at thirty-one (as I’m writing this, I honestly can’t recall what I did for my 31st)  and then depression at thirty-two, I wanted this birthday to just slip on by. Yet, to my surprise, I actually enjoyed this birthday. It was a nice, gentle, and simple celebration with lots and lots of cake and ice cream sundaes. Sugar really does help the medicine go down. I had unknowingly stuck to my thirty year old commitment to take charge of my life, to be brave, and take risks. On this birthday I'm seeing the fruits of all that arduous personal work. I stand with wobbly legs on fresh, still soft, new ground. I’m seeing myself a little more than before. I’m a little truer to myself than before. Here’s a quote for my thirty year old self:

“All these things that make me who I truly am aren’t getting lost as I get older. As I grow and expand and care more about others, I’m finding that the changes only refine and increase my love for the things that have stayed the same. I’m looking forward to this decade and I’m so grateful you're on this journey with me!”

Pessimistic me says, “Poor girl, she had no idea what was coming.” My patient-with-the-journey self says, “That girl, she’s gonna be alright.” And I truly feel it because I’m still doing that thing of choosing to be brave and taking risks. It also helps to know that there are women who get it and who reassure you that you’re not crazy. I’m gonna end with another Michelle Obama quote:

“We keep learning even when we’re tired of learning, changing even when we’re exhausted by change. There are few guaranteed outcomes. Each day we are tasked with becoming some newer version of ourselves.” 

I feel a weight thinking of the task ahead, but I also feel free. Yes, I’m feeling a little freer on this birthday. These are just the words I need as I age another year older. Thank you Mrs. Obama and thank you to all who sent birthday greetings.