These past few days, I've been asking myself one question:
What kind of platform do I want to create? Why?
What message do I want to share? What value do I want to create?
I want to give people strength.
So I asked myself — when in my life did I feel truly strong, in a way that stayed with me?
It was that moment when she said to me:
“You're going to go very far. They didn't see your potential, but I see it.”
To be seen. To be truly seen.
Not for the fancy surface, but for the raw, honest part of you underneath.
She really saw me.
A comic art teacher who always dreamed of being a real artist — she wants to be seen.
A quiet person who always wanted to speak — she wants to be seen.
A full-time mom who always wanted to sing — she wants to be seen.
I want to create a space where people like them can be seen —
Where your soul is seen, your potential is seen.
I want you to see yourself.
And slowly, let that true version of you come forward —
Until your outer self becomes your real self.
When you truly fall in love with who you are,
every step you take feels grounded.
You're living your dream — your dream, not someone else's.
I've been reflecting on how I found my own value and slowly stood up again.
What voices I listened to — and which ones I shouldn't have.
In high school, I was first in the city in physics. But when it came time to choose a college major, a teacher said computer science would be practical. My mom filled in the application for me.
I didn't even have a computer at the time.
I tried a bit in my first year, but soon after, I stopped going to class. I didn't even live on campus — lived far away, took over an hour each day to get to school, perfect excuse to not go.
I didn't enjoy writing code. It felt dry and mechanical.
It wasn't how I wanted to express myself.
What I really liked was making money — teaching at New Oriental (a famous education school in China), running a tutoring center, taking on side projects.
Then I spent the money on myself — bought designer bags and travelled.
After graduation, I went to work, but my heart was never in it.
My body was there, but my mind had already left.
When I worked in Beijing, I mostly thought about food.
Should I get an egg pancake with sausage or pork loin?
By Wednesday, I'd already be planning to go out drinking at Nanluoguxiang.
In the bars, in the crowds, I looked for warmth.
So crowded — and yet it gave me only a tiny bit of warmth.
I was never without a relationship. Always dating. One boyfriend after another.
Every flame felt like it could warm me, but burned out fast.
When I wasn't dating, I was working like crazy.
I had to keep running — because whenever I stopped, a voice in my head would get really loud:
“Why am I living like this? What's the point of life?”
That voice was always there —
Whether the main theme of my life was romance, travel, work, or shopping.
Until one day, I decided: I'm not running anymore.
I need to stop and really look at who the mf is.
I stopped working. I stopped dating.
At first, I didn't even know who I was. Each day I just thought about what I wanted to eat, or took walks.
I met neighbors. I discovered how many lovely people, beautiful flowers, and delicious foods were all around me.
What had I been doing all those years?
Looking back — sweet, bitter, painful.
What I feared the most was guilt.
I made a lot of impulsive decisions when I was young.
I hurt people. I hurt myself.
Thinking back makes my scalp tingle.
But I needed to say goodbye to those things.
Only then did I realize how much pain I had been in.
How deeply I was avoiding everything.
These days, people talk a lot about healing.
We've all been hurt.
We all need to heal.
And I've been lucky.
I kept meeting people who helped me heal.
A therapist who truly saw me.
A yoga teacher who held space for me.
Friends, classmates — they all believed in me.
It's not everyone. But I've learnt to only listen to the voice that talks to the real me.
That's when I fell in love with solo hiking.
Nature is healing. Nature gives without asking.
Slowly, I started to gain strength.
I started to believe in the power of my own voice.
What I want. What I don't want.
The more I set boundaries, the more I spoke up for myself —
the steadier I stood. The more powerful I felt.
So now, I want to create a platform like that for others.
A space where you are seen.
Where you are accepted.
Where you are given the strength to stand on your own feet again.