I guess it’s official—blogging has become an annual tradition for me. I’m trying my best to keep it up because writing a birthday blog post gives me a moment to pause and reflect on the past year. It’s been a while since I last wrote something this long, and honestly, putting my thoughts and experiences into words isn’t easy. But I’ll do my best to share.
In my 33rd year around the sun, I’ve gotten to know myself even better. Through different experiences, I’ve uncovered parts of me that I’m genuinely proud of. And with self-hate being out, here are three things I love about my 33-year-old self:
This was the year I learned to survive on my own—again. But this time, it was different. Unlike previous years, I was on my own, but I wasn’t lonely. Take my solo trip to Seoul in April, for example. It had been a while since my last panic attack, so I was caught off guard when I found myself crying my eyes out in a jjimjilbang. I tried to push through until the eighth day of the trip, but eventually, anxiety got the best of me. Unlike before, though, I didn’t keep it to myself. I reached out to my family, and they embraced my fragility, reassuring me that it was okay to have a change of plans, cancel the rest of the trip and fly home.
Traveling usually brings me immense joy, but this was the first time I felt truly unhappy while on a trip. And yet, the fact that I held out for more than a week is something to be proud of. In fact, that trip isn’t the only moment I deserve recognition for. I’ve traveled solo to multiple countries before, navigating them without panic attacks, and that in itself is an achievement. Not many people—especially women—get to do that. Isn’t it brave? To step out of your comfort zone, to challenge yourself?
Through this experience, I’ve come to realize just how courageous and strong I am, and I love that about myself. I’ve also recognized how much I’ve grown—my emotional intelligence has made real progress. I no longer bottle up my feelings, hoping people will somehow understand while I silently suffer. I now allow myself to be vulnerable, to seek support when I need it. And that, too, is an act of courage and something to be proud of.
In the second half of 2024, I began building my tiny house and planning my move out of the city to live on the mountain. Honestly, I thought that since my house is tiny, it wouldn’t cost much. I figured that if I just skipped five or six K-Pop concerts (I know, ridiculous—but delulu is the solulu, right?), I’d have enough to fund the whole thing. But I stand corrected—turns out, one K-Pop concert ticket barely covers the cost of a showerhead.
I’ve always been great at spending money, but saving it? That’s a whole different story. Ever heard of the term "spending optimism"? It’s when someone assumes their finances will magically work out, even without careful planning. Well, that someone is me.
But now that I’ve committed to building this house and declared that I’m moving to the mountains, I have to actually figure out how to finance it. That doesn’t mean it’s been smooth sailing, though. When I took this leap, I thought I had everything calculated. But, man—I am terrible at math. LOL. There were times I completely miscalculated things and ended up in a financial crisis. Not only did I underestimate the costs, but I also got the timeline all wrong. There were so many moving parts to sort out—packing, decluttering, selling my stuff, dealing with property agents, movers, storage vendors, and cargo services. Then there was figuring out pet transportation, paying for pet services, covering house design fees, buying building materials, handling electricity permits, paying the builders, booking a plane ticket home, and so much more. For months, I struggled (and I’m still struggling) to bring this dream to life.
But since I’d already decided to push through, I hustled. I worked hard at my job. And my other job. And yet another job. Basically, I took on anything I could to make extra money and finally get out of the city. And now, I get it. I understand what people mean when they say it feels good to see their money turn into something real—something tangible. Knowing that my hard-earned money went into those bathroom wall tiles, that black showerhead, that granite stone floor, and ultimately, into the reality of living in my own tiny house away from the city—just like I’ve always dreamed—feels so good.
This dream was supposed to be a retirement plan. I could have waited until I had more savings, until it felt safer. But if not now, when? I don’t know what the future holds, and I refuse to live with regret for not chasing my dream sooner. Ideally I should've saved up more money in the previous years, but I'm a fangirl, so I'm sure you get the picture. Working multiple jobs has been exhausting, but I know that if I hadn’t pushed through, this dream wouldn’t have become reality. And yet, I can’t take all the credit. There have been people—very dear people—who helped me, who lent a hand (sometimes even financially) along the way. For that, I will forever be grateful. I am incredibly proud of my resilience and hard work in making this dream come true, but I’m even happier knowing that this dream was built through collective effort.
I am multifaceted.
I’ve been sharing my journey of building Querencia Farm on social media, so by now, quite a few people know me as the girl leaving the city to live on a farm in the mountains. But that’s just one part of who I am.
We’re often told to pick a lane—to have a clear niche, to build a certain image so we can be easily understood or remembered. “Be specific,” they say. “Stick to one thing.” But the more I reflect on my life, the more I realize that I was never meant to fit into just one box. I am a farm girl who finds peace in nature, but I am also a fangirl who will never outgrow the thrill of a K-Pop concert. I’m building a quiet life on the mountain, yet my heart still beats for adventure and travel. I crave solitude, but I also love deep conversations and the connections I make along the way.
For a long time, a lot of us—including me—felt like we had to choose. As women, especially, we’re often told we can either be pretty or smart, but never both. Gentle or strong, but never a mix of both. But I’ve come to love the fact that I contain multitudes. I do live on a mountain now, but that doesn’t mean I’ve abandoned my six-step skincare routine. My days are spent digging in the garden, dirt under my nails, yet I still reach for an outfit that makes me feel good before heading outside. I have the most breathtaking sunsets in my front yard, but that won’t stop me from traveling halfway across the world just to see a different sky. Querencia gives me the peace I’ve always longed for, but you’ll still find me blasting iKON and Monsta X on my headphones. So, I don’t think I’ll ever be “boring” because I’ll always be learning, evolving, and embracing every side of me. And that, to me, is far more interesting than being just one thing.
* * *
