Dear Younger Me,  It’s hard to admit, but my favourite food isn’t eggs anymore. The first time mom taught me how to make them sunny side up, I couldn’t help but stare at its yolk and how it delicately holds its shape. I was always hopeful that it would never break. Life as a teenager is a lot like that egg; it’s delicate, full of promise. But too much pressure could cause it to explode.  Those days are still so vivid and overwhelming, rushing from school to Chinese class, the