A letter to who I was years ago or maybe to who I will be, from my teenage self. While I write this to reflect on how much I’ve changed, I also write this to show to myself in one, two, or three years in the future. Every year, I look back and realize I haven’t actually changed that much. Admittedly, my memory isn’t the best, but every year, I always feel like I have the same opinions, the same standards, and for the most part, the same friends. I don’t necessarily reject cha

he was Asian, but never quite Asian enough. She looked like everyone else on the subway – brown eyes, black hair, tan skin. At first glance, she blended in. But the moment she opened her mouth, people could tell she was strange. She spoke elementary-level Mandarin, often pronouncing the simplest words incorrectly. There was always a slight hesitation in her tone, an unnatural rhythm to her sentences. They knew instantly she was not from there. She was a foreigner.  Back in No

“I see you everywhere, the sweetest torture one could bear.” - Olivia Rodrigo, lacy. I see Change as someone I both admire and fear. She’s someone I see everyday whether it's through her small gestures that greet me, or her presence to punish me. To be honest, I was never in a good relationship with my friend Change, our personalities never really aligned. I simply preferred to stay in my comfort zone at home, whereas she liked to wander off into the ocean to find adventure,