I feel like I’m experiencing the most formative years of my life right now, and am constantly grappling with the (mostly self-induced) ups and downs whilst trying to squeeze in as many moments of laughter and joy that I possibly can (an ever-teetering balance). For the past six years, my journal has been my outlet for my scrambled thoughts — one that has helped me immensely throughout my wonderful mess of a life.
Upon flipping through my previous entries today, I came across one that I had written when I had just arrived to Hong Kong. Honest, hopeful, and grateful — these are three characteristics I hope that I continue to encapsulate.
June 1, 2020 0:29AM
A Letter to Myself
Tomo, you’re finally living in this city that you’ve been dreaming of for so long. [redacted] You are here at such a tumultuous time, but the timing happened when it should’ve, even though it didn’t seem that way before.
Know that this period is important; this period of just going after what you wanted, simply to live here — you’ve done the first hardest bit! Now live the life you envisioned for yourself in Hong Kong, and have a little more faith in yourself.
It’s scary seeing other people’s dreams and ambitions come to life, whether that be getting accepted into a good law school, getting a promotion at their corporate job (damn you, LinkedIn notifications); all things that demand an unquestionable label of success. It feels isolating, it feels disconcerting.
I’m equal parts anxious, nervous and excited… I am not without frequent moments of doubt, where I feel like I’ve fallen off the rollercoaster that had been driving along a paved way of guaranteed success — the path that my parents would’ve wanted me to take, the path that most around me would nod their heads in approval at.
And it seems sometimes, that I’ve smashed the safety bar for myself and that I’ve chosen to just free fall.
This gap in my career scares me sometimes, but I must remember that moving to another country is not an easy feat, and nor is quitting a job that promised security and recognition. Defying expectations in the most unexpected way possible was not easy, and so for me to overcome those challenges actually means something. It means that I can keep going, do more, and ultimately achieve whatever I want to do.
The tiniest problem is that I haven’t quite figured out what that is for myself, but at least I’m going to keep trying. At the end of the day, I’m counting my blessings — I am so, so happy to be here.
And so this is my first official night in my tiny, tiny, tiny (like, really tiny) studio in Room [redacted], overlooking tall buildings and a shred of sky. Tears are rolling down my cheek because I’m happy and scared, but I know I won’t regret this.
