A place to show my work
What give your cheap thrills?
My cheap thrills? Scrolling YouTube way too long, playing cozy little games on my iPad, wandering the library aisles like it’s a treasure hunt, and getting lost in paint colors. None of it costs much, but all of it fills me up.
Do you like watching reruns?
Yes, I love watching reruns of shows because I often don’t discover them until they’ve been on the air for a while. One of my all-time favorite shows is Bones, and I find myself constantly watching its reruns because I simply can’t get enough of its intriguing stories and compelling characters. Each episode feels like a new adventure, allowing me to immerse myself in the world of forensic science and the complex relationships that develop throughout the series.
Should parenting classes be mandatory for new parents?
Yes, I think they should.
Not because parents are “unprepared” or “don’t know what they’re doing,” but because raising a human being is one of the most important responsibilities anyone can take on—and we don’t treat it that way. We expect people to just figure it out, often without support, guidance, or a community to lean on.
Parenting classes, when done well, aren’t about telling people how to raise their kids. They’re about giving families tools, confidence, and a foundation to build on. Things like:
To me, making parenting classes mandatory isn’t about control. It’s about equity. Not everyone grows up with healthy models of parenting. Not everyone has access to mentors, resources, or guidance. Classes level the playing field so every child has a better chance at a safe, stable, nurturing start.
And honestly, even the most loving, well‑intentioned parents benefit from learning, reflecting, and having a space to ask questions without judgment.
Parenting is too important to leave people to “figure it out” in the dark. If we can offer support before the overwhelm hits, why wouldn’t we?
What do you think is worth waiting for?
I think the things worth waiting for are the ones that can’t be rushed—because they only become what they’re meant to be in their own time.
Some things unfold slowly on purpose. They need space, patience, and a little faith. And honestly, the older I get, the more I appreciate the kind of goodness that doesn’t show up instantly but arrives steady, earned, and real.
For me, what’s worth waiting for looks like:
In short, I think anything that asks you to slow down—anything that grows you, steadies you, or brings you closer to the life you actually want—is worth waiting for.
What is the number one thing people are always asking you for help with?
The number one thing people ask me for help with is turning chaos into something usable.
Sometimes it looks like planning a route, rewriting an email, or organizing a school schedule. Other times, it’s helping someone find the right words for a hard feeling or a complicated situation. At the core, people hand me a tangle of tasks, emotions, or words—and ask, “Can you help me make sense of this?” That’s my favorite kind of work: noticing the pattern, naming what matters, and shaping it into a plan, a paragraph, or a next step that actually feels doable.
Are you an organ donor, if so why/why not?
Yes, I am.
For me, it comes down to a simple belief: if something I no longer need can give someone else more time, more birthdays, more ordinary mornings with the people they love, then that feels like the right choice. I’ve seen enough of life to know how fragile it is, and how much difference one act of generosity can make.
I don’t think of it as a grand gesture. It’s more like leaving the light on for someone who’s still on their way home. If my life can help someone else continue theirs, even after I’m gone, that feels like a meaningful way to leave the world a little better than I found it.
What is your greatest regret?
My greatest regret is how long I spent shrinking myself to make other people comfortable. For years, I said yes when I wanted to say no, stayed quiet when something hurt, and tried to be whatever someone else needed instead of who I really was. I thought that being easy, flexible, and low‑maintenance made me lovable. I didn’t realize I was slowly disappearing in the process.
I regret the moments when I ignored my own voice because I didn’t want to upset anyone. I regret the times I let people take more than they ever gave, and I told myself it was fine. I regret how often I chose peace on the outside while creating chaos inside myself.
But the deeper truth is this: my regret isn’t about the past itself. It’s about the years I didn’t know I deserved better—from others, and from myself. I wish I had learned sooner that my needs weren’t a burden, my feelings weren’t “too much,” and my boundaries weren’t something to apologize for.
Still, even with that regret, I’m grateful. Because all those moments taught me what I will no longer accept. They taught me how to listen to myself, how to speak up, and how to stop abandoning the person I’m supposed to protect most—me.
“Leaders never use the word failure. They look upon setbacks as learning experiences.” – Brian Tracy
“Even an octopus has three hearts, and one of them stops when it swims — a reminder that not everything is meant to move fast.”
Who is your hero of fiction?
Beth March is my hero of fiction because she represents a kind of bravery that rarely gets celebrated — the courage of someone who has spent her life pleasing others, slowly learning that her own presence, desires, and voice matter too.
She begins as the quiet peacekeeper, the one who smooths the edges, absorbs the tension, and tries to make the world softer for everyone else. But her arc isn’t about becoming loud or dramatic. It’s about becoming seen. It’s about recognizing that gentleness isn’t the same as self‑erasure, and that a tender heart is not a weakness but a way of moving through the world with intention.
Beth teaches that you can be kind without disappearing, loving without losing yourself, and generous without giving away the parts of you that you need to keep. Her quiet rebellion — choosing to matter in her own life — is a form of heroism I deeply admire.
“We become what we think about” – Earl Nightingale
BÉALÁISTE is an Irish word for drink or toast to seal a bargain
Which historical figure do you most identify with?
I identify with Eleanor Roosevelt—someone who started out unsure of her place, but grew into a voice of strength, compassion, and conviction. She learned to stop living in the shadows and began shaping the world around her. I relate to that evolution: finding my voice, trusting it, and using it with intention.
“When one door closes, sometimes we need to turn the knob to open another…” – J.A. Tran
In 2020, Parasite (2019) became the first South Korean film to win any Oscar, not to mention best picture. It was also the first Asian motion picture in highest honor.
What is your most marked characteristic?
My most marked characteristic is my quiet perception — the instinctive way I read a room and feel its emotional shifts before anyone speaks.
“Perfection is not attainable, but if we chase perfection we can catch excellence.”— Vince Lombardi
Gray foxes are North America’s only canine species that regularly climb trees.
What is your favorite occupation?
My favorite occupation is creating — writing, reflecting, and shaping my inner world into something clear, honest, and expressive. I also love working with children, and the two go hand in hand for me. Being around kids keeps me curious, imaginative, and open, and my creativity helps me connect with them in meaningful, authentic ways. Together, they make me feel most like myself.
“Let us make our future now and let us make our dreams tomorrow’s reality.” – Malala Yousafzai
Because the pressure buildup can be so intense, holding in a sneeze can damage blood vessels, rupture an eardrum, or even cause a person to have an aneurysm.
What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
The lowest depth of misery is feeling invisible while still being expected to show up — when you’re giving everything you have, but your needs, your voice, and your humanity go unnoticed. It’s the quiet kind of suffering where you disappear in plain sight.
“The best way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing.” ― Walt Disney
Laurence Oliver, the star of the 1948 film adaptation of Hamlet, was almost forty-one when the film premiered. Actress Eileen Hurley, who played his mother Gertrude, was 30.
What is your most treasured possession?
My most treasured possession is my inner clarity — the part of me that can tell the truth about what I feel, what I need, and what matters. It’s the compass I’ve built slowly, through reflection, honesty, and unlearning old patterns. Everything else in my life shifts, but that inner knowing is the one thing I carry that can’t be taken from me.
Note: (Trying something new with the size of the images. Let me know which looks better. The ones here are the bigger images.)
“Leaders set high standards. Refuse to tolerate mediocrity or poor performance.” – Brian Tracy
When it comes to saying British surnames, just sounding it out doesn’t always work. Cholondeley, for example, is pronounced “ CHUM-lee.” Wriothesley is sometimes “RIZZ-lee” and Marjoribanks is simply “MARCH-banks.” Certain Featherstonhaughs say their names “FAN-shaw.”
Where would you most like to live?
I’d most like to live somewhere that feels calm, warm, and creatively inspiring—close enough to nature to breathe, but close enough to community to feel connected. A place with sunlight, trees, and quiet mornings, where I can write, think, and build a life that feels intentional.
“You were born to win, but to be a winner, you must plan to win, prepare to win, and expect to win.” Zig Ziglar
Staples’ iconic red easy button was conceived in a fitting way: During a brainstorming session in 2004, advertiser Leslie Sims said she wished she could simply push a button to create the perfect ad so the team could break for lunch.
What or who is the greatest love of your life?
“My greatest love is my own becoming — the slow, steady work of healing, unlearning, and choosing myself without apology.”
A shopping spree would take me straight to an art supply store — the kind with aisles of sketchbooks, inks, paints, and tools I don’t even know how to use yet but desperately want to try. I’d fill a cart with colors, textures, and possibilities. After that, I’d wander into a cozy bookstore and lose myself in journals, poetry collections, and anything that sparks ideas. My spree would be less about buying things and more about stocking up on inspiration
