27

February 23, 2021
It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything. I think the last time I wrote something was in the summer. After COVID, everything just turned back into drafts–waiting to be posted

I’m surprised to be 27. I had been telling family members that I remember when my older cousins turned 27. That I thought they were old. And now some of them are having kids. Here I am now. 27.

Still very young, but I feel like I’m forming a better understanding of time. I think I’ve spent a lot of my 20s thinking that I didn’t have enough time. After I turned 19, I felt that I had wasted so much of my life. I was too afraid or self-conscious to do anything.

Then I spent my early 20s grinding through school to prove my worth. And now, here I am in my late 20s, realizing how exhausted I am. This pandemic has put my work ethic under a magnifying glass. And since the summer, I’ve been in a constant panic/fear that if I don’t buckle up for the Fall 2020 semester, I’m screwed.

I think I’ve always been hard on myself, but I don’t remember how I learned to critique myself this way. I’ve always been criticized for not being good enough or capable in school, sports, or extra curricular. I never particularly excelled in anything. Even if I received an A in something like my secondary Mandarin classes, it was through hard work rather than demonstrating mastery over the language.

Despite any hardships or challenges I’ve faced, I’m very proud of where I am today. I never thought I’d make anything of myself or this life. I never thought I’d achieve something or work in a field that is so fulfilling. I never thought I’d accomplish the goals I set out. And especially at such an early age.

I was hard on myself. I didn’t think it was possible to get my master’s degree. Or have my hand in designing curriculum for the district. Or leading PDs for other teachers. I thought those were all things that admins do. But I’ve been fortunate enough that my hard work and anxiety paid off, unfortunately, at the cost of my mental well-being. But I’m trying to find a balance between it all.

After November 2020, I realized how much time I don’t take for myself. Or how I just haven’t been taking care of myself. Working from home is very convenient, but it’s also not healthy for me. The lines between ‘my office’ and home no longer exist. My bedroom is my office. I no longer have the separation of schedules or the gym to stop me from working. I no longer live in an apartment with my partner or housemates to stop me from working.

This past year has been a weird one. It doesn’t even really feel like a year passed. Maybe longer and also not at the same time. It feels like 26 never happened. Yet a lot happened this year. And I’m grateful that I’m alive, healthy, and well during this pandemic. I hope I can get back into writing and be creative for myself.

Thanks for tuning in. Hopefully, I can push out some of these hidden pieces in my drafts soon.