Writing Prompt

1. What's one thing that's happened to you that has made you a stronger person? 
2. What's one thing that's happened to you in your life that made you feel weak? 
3. Where is one place you feel most like yourself?
4. Where is your favourite place to escape to? 
5. Who do you think has had the largest influence on the person you are today?
6. If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be? 
7. If you had one day left to live, what would you do first?
8. What decade do you feel you most belong in?
9. Who are you closest to in your family? Why?
10. Who is the one person in this world that knows you best?
11. What is your favourite quality about your best friend?
12. When you were younger what did you think you were going to be when you grow up? 
13. If you could identify with one fictional character (from a book, show, or movie) who would it be?
14. Do you easily accept compliments? Or do you hate compliments?
15. Is your favourite attribute about yourself physical or non-physical? 
16. What is your favourite physical attribute about yourself?
17. What is your favourite non-physical attribute about yourself?
18. Do you believe in love at first sight?
19. Do you believe in soulmates?
20. How seriously do you take horoscopes?
21. Have you ever been in love? How many times?
22. What makes you fall in love with someone?
23. What does vulnerability mean to you? What has the ability to make you vulnerable?
24. What's one thing you're scared to ask a man, but really want to?
25. If you were a man for a day, what would be the first thing you do?
26. What do you find most attractive about each sex?
27. What's one thing you'd love to learn more about?
28. What is something you've never done that you've always wanted to do?
29. Why haven't you done it yet?
30. If money didn't matter, what would your dream job be?
31. If you had today off from work, what would you do?
32. What was the last thing that made you cry?
33. What was the last thing that made you laugh? 
34. What is your favourite memory?
35. What's the last thing that really embarrassed you?
36. What is your biggest fear?
37. Do you have any regrets? What's your biggest one?
38. What is the craziest thing you've ever done?
39. Would you have a conversation with a stranger?
40. What's your favourite joke?
41. If you could be any animal, what animal would you be?
42. How do you think your parents would describe you as a child?
43. If you could go back to any age or time of your life, what age or time would it be?
44. What's something you believe in that not everyone else does? 
45. What's one thing you would say that makes you unique from other people?
46. What is one thing you feel your life is missing? 

To My Best Friend

I've known my best friend for 21 and a half years. For almost as long as I've been alive, she has been a part of my life. We have the sort of best-friendship that they base Disney Channel TV shows on. We text a lot; every day. We talk about everything. We share opinions about boys, food, clothes, makeup, culture, politics, people we dislike, people we somewhat like, school, art, pop culture, dating, TV shows, movies, white people, etc. I don't think we've ever gotten into a fight. She has been my constant since day 1 (of her life).

This afternoon, we're having a conversation. Texting back and forth, trying to make plans to see a movie later this week. She shares an article about Chinese bottle ladies in Toronto. We start talking about culture, and how we deal with our culture as second generation Chinese immigrants. We talk about the way we negotiate race and culture. I tell her one of the things I'm scared and ashamed of is eventually losing my culture when my parents are gone. My first generation immigrant parents have worked so hard to raise me in the best possible circumstances. Yet the reality is that my current situation moves further and further away from my parents and the culture they grew up in, and the culture they brought me up in. I'm afraid that without my parents, I won't keep up with the festivals and I won't know how to make any of the foods. I can already see how I might lose the language. As I'm expressing these concerns, Ellen tells me, "We could do it together. Between the both of us, I'm sure we can still do stuff." We could try to remember, maintain our culture and traditions together.

I know we've talked about this before. On my birthday, she sends me a long essay over text about this. It kind of clicked for me then. Our friendship has a longevity and truthfulness that is almost strange. I don't think it's particularly easy to maintain, although it has been for us. Our friendship has always been such a natural and unquestionable part of my life. Undeniable. I'm so glad for that.

Our conversation today reinforced how happy I am about our friendship. How happy I am to have her as part of my life, as a constant in my life. I am so happy and relieved to have someone who I can share growing up with, to share growing old with. I am relieved because our friendship means that I will never have to be alone when dealing with... Anything, really. There will always be someone to explore and examine the world with me. Whether it was when we were kids holding paper lanterns underneath a full moon, or today when we are almost adults discussing how difficult maintaining that cultural aspect may become. I have someone who will always be there to figure that stuff out with. I have someone who will always be there to listen.  To celebrate success with, to ponder confusion and sadness and anger with. I have someone who will always be in my corner as we're doing all that. And that? That's amazing. That's so lucky. I'm so fortunate. We're so fortunate. 

My best friend is great.

Film Haul

Pictured above: Kaley, Jennifer, Adam, Will, Cody, Eden, Holly, Michelle, Larissa, Ruth, Andy, Anwar, Ryan, Eric, some strangers and myself. 

On the 23 Women Who Inspire Me

Nico writes a list of 29 women who have shaped his life. A woman for every year of his life. These are women who helped him grow, who gave him love, taught love. "An ode to the women that taught me how to love." 

Inspired by Nico, I wrote a list of 22 men who have been storms in my life. They are men who have taught me strength and resilience, courage and recklessness. They are men who have built me and broke me. Encouraged me and forced me to grow.

Men and masculinity are so often thought of in violent, active terms. Men are not quiet. They are not soft or tender. Masculinity represents strength and aggression. They are forceful and hard. They are the storms of my life. Storms are beautiful, and they're necessary. When we are broken, we grow. But when we are whole, we also grow. The women in my life have made me whole.

If men are storms, then women are oceans. Women are the oceans that will always look clear, that will always fold back to envelop. They are the calm and powerful. They refresh and renew. They erode and demolish. Women are the calm you envision, but the strength and true, sheer durability that you sometimes forget. It is women and femininity that is uplifting and grounding. Soothing and paralyzing. So, a woman for every year of my life.

To my mother, Janny, who is everything that supports, nurtures and cripples me. Mom is constant love, sacrifice, care and attention. Mom is constant worry, expectation, and hope. Mom is always, always and will forever be home. I don't have words to express the importance of my mother in my story, my upbringing, my life, my values. Everything. Mom, I know I wasn't an easy child. I'm not an easy person- always an underlying illness even when I wasn't sick, a selfish child, a lonely child, someone caught up in her own world. I think you've done so well with me though. You've worked so hard. Thank you for that. Thank you for always trying to support me. You're the first person I want to share my excitement with, and the person I never want to disappoint.

To my aunt, Lisa, who has always been the symbol of fun and adventure. A kind of carefree. You've always had a story to tell, always a smile to share. Always there to listen to my stories, and to encourage them.

To my grandmother, Yuk Mui, someone who has seen too much of the world, its brilliance and its terror. My grandmother who was a child living through the Sino-Japanese War. My grandmother who travelled across the world to start a life where she truly knew no one and nothing. My grandmother who kept going, continues to keep going. On the other side of the coin, my grandmother who braved the world and never forgot its horrors and chaos. My grandmother who never forgave the world for the sadness it caused her. My grandmother who never got over the anger and an entitlement to something better. My grandmother who is relentless, but scared of death, scared of quiet. My grandmother is part of a world I will never understand, but maybe it's for that I should thank her endlessly.

To my best friend, Ellen, who is more of a sister than she is a friend. Ellen, who I have known since I was a year and a half and she was born. Ellen, who I talk to almost daily. Who I'm not afraid of exposing myself to; my secrets, vulnerabilities, flaws and mostly, my inconsistencies. In so many ways, we are so different but in so many ways, we are also the same. If I was to fall, you are what ties me to the Earth. You keep me grounded, truthful and accountable. I don't know where to begin or where to end when it comes to you, or us. I think you're how I stay together. Thanks for understanding. Thanks so much for understanding more than anyone can or ever will.

To Amma, who has been the best mentor and friend. Thank you for being a presence in my life, for you've always, always been such a positive influence. I think beyond our old school, career and boy talks, the thing that stood out the most was how bright you are as a person. You radiate so much light and so much kindness. So much goodness. I cannot wait to see you at your wedding, and I cannot wait for all the happiness that life, as you said before, will bring. That's the best thing you taught me - to look forward.

To Charlotte, who I ask about all things in life. Love, health, friendship, biology, things on the Internet, drugs, everything. I remember talking to you for the first time on that walk to the football game, and then sitting in your room till 3 o'clock in the morning that same day with Chris. We then spent so much of our time at Queen's together. We lived together for three years, basically four. You've seen me do some stupid things. You've seen me naked. You've seen me at some of my best and my absolute worst. And vice versa. We've done some fun things together, some boring things together, and everything in between. It's funny how things work out that way. I really don't know where I'd be without you the past 5 or so years. I see you so much and often as my voice of reason, and kinda my lifeline. I don't know how to express all of that without being cheesy... You're great. Actually, in your words, you're perfect.

To Mishi, who I shared almost every single dumb and drunk and fun adventure with in my four years at Queen's. My fellow Sagittarius who always sought a little adventure, always willing to do something, always willing to play the odds a little. When I think of us, I think of drunkenly walking down Kingston streets late at night. I think of laying in your bed and falling asleep while doing nothing at all. I think of all your weird meal combinations. I think of someone who makes me laugh, who makes me feel so cared for and loved. I think of tequila shots. When I think of us, I think of shouting to you in the next room. To be honest, I can't really think of those four years of my life without you in every frame. 

To Evasha, my first roommate. Maybe it's because we were roommates and at such a critical part of my life thus far, having you in my life feels like such a sense of security. You're always there to listen, without judgement. Or not, because you also throw in some of the shadiest comments. That's one of the things I miss a lot about you and Kingston- it's the regular everyday chats. It's swapping stories and anecdotes and that was us.

To Sarah. From the very first week of Queen's to now, it is so strange and lovely to see how our friendship has manifested. You are the sweetest, kindest, most generous person and I am so happy and lucky to have you in my life. Honestly, you bring such happiness and joy to my life. I miss you. I miss our time together. I miss hanging out - whether it is at the mall, in the library or just sharing a nap in my room. We always did have fun.

To Jenny, who I always saw as my cooler older sister. I have and continue to so admire you for the way you are, the way you have always been and continue to be. You are so fearlessly yourself, so fiercely and unapologetically independent. You have always had such clarity in how you approach life. I always aspired to be like you in that way. I know we don't see each other that often, but when we do, things feel so natural. They feel like an old piece of home. Even in the way that our friendship continues, I feel that kind of steady confidence that you've always exuded.

To my cousin, Michelle, who faces the world with a kind of bravery and independence and attitude. No one quite does it like Michelle, is what I always thought growing up. I like the way you've always approached the things in your life. You never backed down from what you wanted. You've always demanded a certain level of respect. I love that. I think this about you, is going to make you an amazing mother. I already see it. 

To Kelly, who I lost before I learned how to say sorry, before I learned how to put aside my pride and admit to my own anger. I'm sorry I never said I was wrong. I'm sorry I was angry and I took it out on you, on something that was never your fault and entirely my own. You were an amazing friend, and you saw me in a much kinder light than I deserved.

To Henrieta, the one I discuss everything big with. The one who challenged me intellectually, the one who demanded me to go further creatively. I remember our drawing sessions where we spent as much time discussing politics, philosophy, culture, life, art as we did any art. I think this was an important part of my life in Kingston. I needed someone who understood and sought after all those parts of life. No one else does adventure or living quite like you.

To Jennifer, who I shared so much of my growing up with. Who I used to sit by the skatepark with, making up stories for the boys, making up stories for the rest of our lives. You are a part of so many of my stories and so many of my memories. An undeniable part of my teens and also my young adulthood. I think the most significant thing to say, is that you were part of my discovery. The discovery of myself, of people, of culture, of adventure, of alcohol, of boys. Also, you're one hell of a muse.

To my first and second grade teacher, Ms. Brown. I think I will always remember you as the sweetest, most caring teacher I will ever have the absolute pleasure to meet. Years later, thinking back to some of the things you did for us, it is so easy to see how well suited you were to teaching young children. Their first encounter with the outside world. Thank you for showing this frightened child so much kindness, for encouraging her as much as you did. I still journal all the time. Thank you for giving me that.

To Nefisa, the girl who will change the world. I really believe that. You've always been so brilliant. The way you see the world and the tireless way you work. You're always someone I look up to, always someone who I can count on for support. Also, always someone who can make me laugh and open up a little more to the world.

To Danielle, who I have to thank for so many amazing opportunities. This program and your guidance was pivotal in how I see the world, how I know the world today. I know how lucky I am to have been part of this program. It offered us so many connections that we wouldn't have had otherwise. It helped me learn about the world, and the possibilities that I haven't seen before. You were at the centre of all that. You worked so tirelessly for us to get all of that. You also went above and beyond. It's really like family. I'll always see it as family.

To Auntie Tunnie, my mom's best friend and my babysitter as a little babe. In my own world, what is really my world and the people in it, you are who I always thought of as so much wisdom. A gentle, kind and patient wisdom. Someone who is humble. I adore you. I always have, even as a kid. I continue to now, and I think it's still so obvious. Maybe embarrassingly so. Your daughter is wonderful too. It's so eye opening seeing how she's growing up. When she was little, she reminded me so much of myself but as she's growing, I can see how wonderful she is on her own. She's going to do wonderful things, and I'm sure it's because of your presence. 

To Patty, my middle school best friend. I remember continuously walking the track during lunch breaks. I remember discussing boys over the phone. I remember the crying as we discussed the boys. I remember the first touch of teenage emotion, angst, drama; the vindictiveness of it all. Before 13-year-olds were ever cool, there was us and the way we saw the world that was too simple and too complicated. You were a simpler period of my life, but also when things became so much more complicated. 

To Erline and Kaley. I once read about the people you invite to your wedding. I'm not getting married any time soon, but the article suggested that you invite new friends as well as your really old friends. New friends who have the potential to stay in your life, shape your life; who you really enjoy having in your life. I always say that my coworkers at Starbucks are the sweetest people. You guys are that. But beyond that and our shared interests, it is also the discussions we have when we're together. It's so enlightening the way you guys see the world because of our different experiences growing up and existing in the world. This is always precious. We are bonded by mutual annoyances and interests, strengthened by food and the way we talk about life, learn about life and all its nuances.

To my yoga teacher, Krista, who sees the world in a way I want to learn. A world I want to be a part of. For me, Krista encourages a kind of juxtaposition in life so easily forgotten. I'm asked to push my body in ways I'm not used to, to challenge the pain and discomfort in my body that I so easily shy away from. I've always been told my body is a fragile thing and I can never be too careful with it. Here, I'm told to challenge. To respect my body, but to challenge it. I'm told of the power and strength of my body instead of its fragility. I'm told to play instead of staying in the shadows.

And finally to Hanna, who I have never met but write to, both in letters to her and in the back of my mind. Hanna, who is beautiful in the way she holds herself, the way she encounters the world, the way she lets the world encounter her. Hanna, I could lose and have lost myself in your words. I've also found myself and continue to find myself in your words too. Truly the embodiment of a force of nature. 

I wrote saying that a list of women would be easier to write. Women have always been there to inspire me, encourage me, support me. Women have always been there to protect and care for me in a way that the men in my life never have. Women, who have always served as the beacons of beauty, grace, kindness in my life. I'm not sure where I will be without them. I'm not sure how I will be without them. Women are everything. The past, present and future. Always existing and present.

23

My birthday is in less than two hours. I'm sitting in my bedroom just in my underwear. I have a cup of lemon honey tea, and I can barely feel my arms. It's the sort of tired where it feels like my arm might drop off. I'm still sweaty from a hot yoga class. I know I'll probably look like a mess tomorrow when I wake up at 5:30AM for work. I have scratches on my wrist, small bruises on my hand, legs and breasts. Most of which I don't know where from. I look in the mirror and I see the way my body rolls, gorges and rounds. I see all the things I'm unhappy about, but also all the ways that this fragile body of mine has lasted, has endured.

I'm going to be 23. That's twenty-three times around the sun. Twenty-three years of growing, of learning, of being stupid and of trying to manifest some sort of intelligence and wisdom. In 23 years, I've tried to learn some kindness, learn some things about politics, some philosophy. Tried to learn how to be less selfish, how to be more forgiving, more patient. So many things that I can look into my life and say I've succeeded at and I've failed at. It is a constant process of learning. Of becoming. We never stop becoming, and that's the trick they don't tell you. We will never stop learning. We will always be in the process of becoming.

23 feels like a big number. It feels like it will be a big year. I hope that it will be a big year. I think I need it to be a big year of change, a significant leap or jump. A change in chapter and direction. Something needs to feel like progress, look like growth; needs to feel like the ache of building.

I wonder in twenty-three years, what have I learned? In my twenty-third year, what will I learn?

• I've learned some of what I need in a relationship. I need stability, communication, some sense of commitment. I need excitement. I need good sex. I need someone passionate, someone at least a little reckless, adventurous, intelligent. I need someone who makes me laugh; to share laughter with. I need someone I'm not scared of talking to. I need someone to be vulnerable with. 
• I've learned about timing. Not all things are meant to last forever. Not all things are meant to even begin. There is a time and a place for everyone and everything. It's no one's fault. Just the way life goes.
• I've learned about being alone. Being alone happens. Loneliness happens. Surrounded in a crowded room with strangers or friends, loneliness happens. There is nothing wrong with being alone or feeling lonely. It helps us learn. It helps us explore. It helps us grow.
• There is a time to fight and a time to flow. Some things are worth fighting for, fighting against. Like working out of a bad situation, the way your body can stiffen and harden, the opportunities that you have to fight tooth and nail to have and to keep. Some things you have to just accept and ride out. Like drugs. 
• Try to live in the moment. There is only so much we can do about the past or the future. But also, remember that the moment passes. Whatever is bad now won't always be bad. Everything, good or bad, keeps moving. What is bad now, or what is good now might not be so bad or good in a week. Flow. Breathe. 
• The Good People exist. They're worth waiting for. They're worth finding. I know I forget this often, but I have to know that this is true. 
• I've learned about the importance of travel. Or more specifically, of unfamiliarity. The unfamiliar opens our eyes. We learn so much about the world and ourselves when we travel, when we explore. When we see the world with fresh eyes; child's eyes. 
• Have fun. Enjoy yourself. Loosen your jaw. Remember to breathe. Cry if you want to. Always strive for that deep belly laughter. 
• I've learned the importance of letting go, even if I don't quite know how to do this yet.
• I've learned so much about myself. Every new adventure, every new task, every problem or conflict, every time I feel so angry or so sad. Every time I feel uplifted, happy, disappointed. I am learning so much about myself, my past, my own personality, my ability and capacity to handle challenges and discomfort. How I handle fear. 
• I've learned to cook. 
• I've learned how to push my body. Through yoga, through colds, through sickness. Through the daily everyday practices of living. 
• I've learned the importance of not knowing. The importance of mystery and ambiguity. There doesn't have to be an explanation or a rationale. Things happen. Life happens. That's just the way it goes. 
• I'm learning how to smile through it all. How to breathe, how to step back and enjoy it anyways. I'm not any good at this, but I'm trying. I'm learning. 
• Et cera, et cera... 

I want things to go well. I always want things to go well. I want all the things that didn't happen this year, to happen next year. I want to embrace the world more, its people more, myself more. I want love, I want the start of a career, I want the bonds I already have to continue to strengthen and last. I want money. I want some sense of stability and upwardness in my life. I want to get my full license. Maybe a cat. I want to see things more from my parents' point of view. I want to learn more of their history and why they think the way they do. I don't want to disappoint my parents. I want to worry them less. I want more tattoos. I want my body toner and leaner. I want my skin to be better, to be less angry with me. I want to accept my body more for the way it is, but to never stop pushing for better. I want to keep up with yoga. I want to paint and draw, and I want to make this consistent and a real practice. I want nice clothes. I want to spend less money on trivial things. I want to be happy. I want to be more vulnerable. I want to do more for my friends. I want the Good People in my life, and more of them. I want to be around creative people. I want to be around kind people. I want to be loud and embracive of life. I don't want to back down from challenges. I want to move past the Fear. I want, I want, I want. I will have.

Every year is another year, another chapter, another start. Every month is another month, another chapter, another start. Every week is another week, another chapter, another start. Every day is another start. Every day is another opportunity for something to change everything.

22 was good. 23 will be good. 23 will be great. It will be to challenge, to endure, and to strive.