Dance brings me joy… and panic attacks

Late last year, life was a whirlwind. I was drowning in work – leading a massive government project on top of handling my usual accounts. The stress was so intense that I got shingles for the second time that year. 

But even when things got hectic, I wasn’t willing to give up dancing. I continued with my weekly classes and practice sessions. I was preparing for my first performance at Singapore’s annual Chingay parade — a routine that included riskier air steps than I’d ever done before. On top of that, I’d just been recruited into two different dance crews.

And still, I was determined to have a social life. I carved out time to hang out with friends, and even dedicated one night a week to go on dates. 

Honestly, I loved it. That season of my life brought so much joy and pride. I felt like I was growing in every direction. But to juggle everything, I had to make compromises — and sleep was the first to go. I was running on empty, teetering on the edge of burnout. 

Still, I’m great under pressure. So I kept going. Kept performing. Kept the burnout at bay. Until… something in me flipped.

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From Hinge to handstands

After I wrapped up The Campaign to Find Myself, I found my way back into the dating world.

I met a few people through Hinge. Two stood out. But the one who left the strongest impression? A real-life crush I wasn’t even looking for. Here’s how it all unfolded.

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The campaign to find myself 

As I was recovering from a heartbreak, I confided in my friend Denise how overwhelming it was to think of life as indefinite. You have no idea when it will all end, how many more heartbreaks lie ahead, or if your dreams will ever even come true.

I’m not saying I wish for a terminal illness, but there’s a certain clarity that comes with a definite time frame, like “you have three months to live.” You know exactly how long you need to hold on and can focus on making the most of that time. Perhaps it was because of my background as a consultant. My professional life is structured around campaigns with specific objectives and KPIs to meet in three months, six months, or a year.

Denise said, “So, why not create a campaign for yourself? Give yourself three months to recover and move on.” So, I did.

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Rock bottom

I turned 32 earlier this year. It’s my favorite number because it signifies my birth date, February 3rd. I had hoped 32 would be my magic number – a year of happiness, a time when I could simply glide through life after a couple of grueling years. Perhaps it would be the year I figured everything out, maybe even started planning the life I wanted to build with the man I was seeing.

Instead, this year has been one of the hardest of my life. Each month seemed to hurl one lemon after another. From getting shingles and spraining a foot, to dealing with a non-paying housemate and police reports, to going through romantic and financial turmoil. The final nail in the coffin was when my beloved first cat, Luna, suddenly went into acute kidney failure, just days after my breakup was sealed. 

I broke down. When I saw my reflection in the mirror, my eyes were so full of sadness that I wondered if I’d ever be truly happy again. 

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Why is it so hard to change my bad habits?

When it comes to self care, I’ve always struggled with consistency. I’d go through cycles of getting inspired, overdoing it, falling off the wagon, and taking forever to get back on track. 

Recently, I came across this insight: The question is not what to do. You know what to do. The question is, why are you not doing it despite wanting to? Most of the time, I would attribute it to character flaws. You’re lazy. You’re weak. You’re just not that type of person. I would point it out over and over, holding onto a false hope that self-shaming would coerce me into better habits.

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2017: I learnt to be proud of myself

Skyline, girl, travel.jpg

I woke up finding multiple reasons to be annoyed on the very last day of 2017. My mom left her alarm on and disturbed my sleep; when I gave up sleeping and checked my phone instead, I did not see a message I was expecting… just to name a couple. These triggered an onslaught of negative thoughts, more reasons to feel discontent.

I was ready to have a bad end to this year, but then I surprised myself.

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How I restarted my New Year’s Resolutions in March

Window, white.jpg

I penned my 2017 Resolutions during an 11-hour transit in Hong Kong back in January. I didn’t have any notebook with me, so I had to write them down on a scrap paper.

Sitting by a glass wall that overlooks the tarmac, illuminated by the setting sun, it was one of those light bulb moments when words just flow. I was hopeful. Not unlike the sun that set shortly after, however, my resolutions that it fueled soon died out.

Here’s how it happened and how I restarted my resolutions back to life in three essential steps.

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A year in my quarter-life crisis

Woman, back, tunnel

Like I said, 2016 was the most confusing period of my life so far.

I got tattoos — three of them. I developed an unlikely obsession with a Korean boy group, Bangtan Sonyeondan (BTS). I questioned my faith. I started thinking that maybe… I didn’t want kids. I suffered from anxiety, especially at work. I was lonely, but wouldn’t reach out to anyone. I thought I wasn’t good enough. I felt like on the brink of depression.

I didn’t know they were signs of what most likely was a quarter-life crisis. This was how the year went by:

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Into the Marsh: Off we go!

Marsh, ducks

So, you’ve made your way into the marsh. Welcome!

I made ‘Into the Marsh’ as a memoir of how I continuously try to reclaim my life. And paid quite a hefty sum to secure the domain to cut short any excuse I may have to put it off. “You pay in US dollar every year for this website; you’d better quit lazying around and do something with it!”

You might ask, then, why do I need to reclaim my life? And perhaps, are you in need of doing exactly the same?

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