jutheblog

Have you ever asked yourself why you write?

I found myself thinking over this question as I refreshed my ‘about you’ page.

Let’s rewind a bit. I dipped my toes into journaling when I was about 10. After school, I would write down random thoughts and observations in my journal, mostly about the day’s happenings and how I felt. One day, my aunt, who was always checking my homework, stumbled upon a rather personal entry. She confronted me about it, insisting I focus on school instead of what she called ‘nonsense’.

And just like that, I stopped journaling.

Fast forward through my teenage years, university, and the occasional existential crisis, I found myself starting fresh in Munich in 2016. It was a lot of adjustments at once for me– a new job, a new city, and the newfound independence of living solo at 24. Three years went by in a blur of career-building, socializing, and weekends spent unwinding from the daily grind. And amidst it all, I juggled trips back home to stay connected with family.

Growing up in an immigrant Chinese family, expressing emotions wasn’t a thing. Physical affection was rare, and words had to be chosen with care. I experienced my childhood through ‘Asian tough love’ – love expressed through discipline, academic pressure, and food. So, I kept my struggles to myself, putting on a facade of having it all together.

Then, September 2019 rolled around, and three main things happened at once:

• I quit my job and started my online business from scratch
• My family relations hit rock bottom due to my interracial relationship (yes, it’s still a thing)
• And oh, hello COVID.

Suddenly, I found myself drowning in a sea of emotions. I’ve always been the type to bottle things up until I can’t anymore. But this time, I knew I needed an outlet. I couldn’t talk to my family, and none of my friends could relate. So, I turned to journaling once again.

I tried all sorts of styles– gratitude journals, affirmation journals, you name it. But the only structure that stuck was having no structure at all. I would spill my thoughts onto the page whenever they came, with no pressure, no expectations, and no checklists.

I’m no writing genius. Writing, for me, is simply a way to make sense of the chaos of life, relive past memories, and carve out a tiny piece of sanity in this crazy world. And it’s the only way I know to let my feelings flow freely.

But why share my stories with the world?

My stories are mainly about my inner battle between my Western and Asian identities, balancing life as a mom and career, and the everyday struggles of being human.

Writing for myself is like therapy, a way to unravel the messiness of life and find clarity. But sharing it? That’s like opening the door to my innermost thoughts and inviting strangers in.

It’s scary but also incredibly freeing.

Putting my thoughts on paper helps me navigate my journey, and if even one person resonates with my stories, that’s reward enough.

I believe in the power of storytelling. It’s about finding common ground in unexpected places, and connecting with others through shared experiences. And I truly believe that everyone has a story to tell.

What is your story?