Let me tell you about the moment I realized I needed this space—needed it, in the way lungs need air, in the way a drowning person needs solid ground beneath their feet.
I was 18 years old, holding my firstborn in a Malaysian hospital, surrounded by the sterile scent of antiseptic and the crushing weight of silent judgment. The nurses spoke about me in third person, as if I wasn’t there. Relatives whispered that my life was over. Nobody asked if I was okay—not really. “Mental health” wasn’t something we talked about; it was something you were supposed to swallow like a bitter pill and pretend didn’t exist.
I remember staring at my baby’s perfect face and feeling two things at once: a love so fierce it hurt, and a terror so deep I couldn’t name it. What if I break her? What if I’m already broken?
This Blog Is the Letter I Wish I’d Received
If I could send a message back through time to that scared 18-year-old girl, I’d tell her:
- You are not a cautionary tale. Becoming a mother young doesn’t make you a failure—it makes you resilient in ways society won’t acknowledge until much later.
- Your struggles are not shameful. That suffocating guilt, the rage that bubbles up during sleepless nights, the days you cry in the shower? They don’t make you a bad mom. They make you human.
- You deserve softness. Especially from yourself.
This blog is my way of writing those letters to you, wherever you are in your journey.
Why “Non-Judgmental” Isn’t Just a Buzzword Here
I’ve been the young mom people crossed the street to avoid.
I’ve been the neurodivergent parent who forgot the school bake sale (again).
I’ve been the immigrant who couldn’t explain why some days, just existing in a new country felt like wearing shoes two sizes too small.
I know what it’s like to need a place where:
- Your parenting isn’t a performance to be graded
- Your mental health struggles aren’t dismissed as “dramatic”
- Your victories—no matter how small—are celebrated without caveats (“But have you tried…?”)
That’s what we’re building here.
What This Space Will Be
- A Witness to Your Story
- I’ll share my messy, unfiltered experiences: postpartum depression that hit me like a truck, the surreal whiplash of raising a teen while a toddler, the way gaming became my unexpected lifeline.
- You’re invited to share yours—not as “content,” but as sacred testimony. You are seen here.
- A Toolkit, Not a Lecture
- Science-backed mental health strategies (from someone actually getting a degree in it, so you don’t have to)
- Parenting hacks that acknowledge real limitations (like executive dysfunction or financial strain)
- No toxic positivity. Sometimes the “win” is just surviving the day.
- A Rebellion Against Isolation
- Because no one should have to white-knuckle their way through parenthood like I did.
- Because “it takes a village” is meaningless if the village is too busy judging to show up.
An Invitation
If you’ve ever:
- Felt like you’re failing at parenting and adulthood simultaneously
- Been told your emotions are “too much” or “not valid”
- Needed someone to say “Me too” without tacking on “but have you tried yoga?”
…then this is your space. Your safe harbor. Your respawn point.
We don’t do perfection here. We do:
- Real talk (with swearing and dark humor allowed)
- Radical empathy (zero tolerance for mom-shaming)
- Relentless hope (not the naive kind—the kind that’s fought for)
Press “comment” and tell me: What’s one thing you’re carrying that you wish you could set down? I’ll go first in the replies.
Welcome home.
P.S. The cats say hello. They’re terrible therapists but excellent listeners.
