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We learned to be competent. We learned to be strong. We learned to read t…

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This is my attempt to trace the shape of grief and to witness how i…

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But as a cancer sun/moon/venus/some-other-planet-i-forget, this kind of openness feels meaningful and sacred. Something urged me to allow for an appropriate boundary. So, i set up a paywall here for me to practice digital boundary. Only those who are ready to receive the stories will have access.

I’d love for you to cross the boundary with me. You can become a free subscriber and access some posts, or become a paid subscriber to get all of the posts. Your contribution will directly support my on-going PhD research on gender, authority, and social change. I don’t talk about my work on this Subtack, but I’m an academic teaching and researching for a PhD in Leadership Studies after working as a leadership development consultant and coach for the past decade. For the founding membership level of support, you will receive a complimentary 1:1 coaching session with me.

For those of you who don’t plan to pay for a subscription, I will continue to offer articles of a lower psychic load for free - like this monthly reviews of things.

If you’re not able to support this newsletter financially yet still want to read the stories, please reach out for a gifted subscription.

With love,

angel

This month, the list of favorite things include:

• miranda july’s stream of consciousness

• something imo better than white lotus 🪷

• a show that we need to be watching as a community after white lotus ended

• a field trip to the hill

• a cozy and thrilling game 🧚‍♀️

my literary crush:

All Fours changed me. I started caring about perimenopause and quickly decided that i’d get on HRT as soon as I’m done with childbearing related things. I re-wondered about structures in society that make people automatically subscribe to monogamy. I daydreamed about how that room at the Excelsior looked like. As someone who’s never been athletic, I even asked my partner how I could start lifting weights (i’ve intentionally done kettlebell exercises twice since then, not including the daily weightlifting I already do daily by carrying my 20+ lbs baby everywhere). I have the substack app on my phone just so I can read Miranda July’s newsletter regularly. I loved her take in the recent post on the “electric dimensionality” of relationship (basically it’s about the awareness of impermanence in romantic relationship that brings a sense of “aliveness” in the way we show up). Her ramblings are so interesting and I am very curious about what her 19-minute voice notes entail. this reminds me I should send my friends some voice notes now.

better than white lotus:

Shondaland doesn't miss. The Residence is a murder mystery like White Lotus but with whimsy. The plot begins with detective Cordelia (Uzo Aduba) arriving at the White House to investigate a death. Cordelia is a birder. Instead of heading straight to the scene of death, Cordelia was in the front lawn with her binoculars, looking for some bird (complete list of birds mentioned on the show can be found here) LOL. The dialogue is fast. The characters are mostly funny. You’ll keep guessing what *actually* happened until the very last episode. I was entertained.

we need to talk about this:

Another TV recommendation cause the community needs to be watching something together after we’re done with white lotus. I promise I’m not sponsored by Netflix. I was so deep into Million Dollar Secret that I combed through the subreddit at 10pm for hot takes and critiques. As a group relations scholar *tipping my imaginary hat*, I was watching this show like I was a group consultant for them. A dozen-ish strangers from around the world arrived at a luxury manor by the alps. One of them had been gifted a million dollars, but to keep the money, they have to do something “odd”. So everyone started to look for “odd” behavior. As an odd person, I found the odd behaviors on the show not odd enough. Because honesty is a virtue to which almost everyone thinks they embody, it was really interesting to see how people think and behave when the premise of the game is to be deceitful. To me the plot twist came at the very end of the show. I love this show so much that I want my bday party this year to be a million dollar secret party (think murder mystery party but this instead).

a field trip to the hill:

Telepathy tapes is a show that begins as an investigation of telepathy skills from a group of non-speaking autistic people and later turns into a full exploration of the spiritual/multi-dimensional nature of life. I didn’t care for the first few episodes cause I don’t need scientific methods to prove that telepathy/shared consciousness exists. But I understand why they set it up as such so that the show is more palatable to secular and non-spiritual folks. The show gets more interesting later on, covering topics like interspecies communication and astral projection from living people. I’m pretty sure I have been to the hill during an amazing self-hypnosis session. This show reminds me that there’s this chaotic earth timeline *and* so many parallel universes happening at the same time. It helps to have perspective when things feel like a shitshow, you know.

thrilling *and* cozy:

I mean, just look at this picture. It holds the horror of a volcanic eruption and the endearment of an ice cream boat, telling us that these two realities may seem separate but are actually connected. Hello Kitty Island Adventure is a game that helps me process the dichotomy of life right now. It teaches me it’s ok to feel maddening and encouraging at the same time. I clock in hours on this game every night after my baby goes to sleep because in this game I feel accomplished and free - I can go off on a quest with My Melody or just ignore them and hang out underwater and collect seashells. It’s a cozy game with mysterious quests and puzzle rooms. It’s also a game that teaches friendship - sending gifts to the characters daily will unlock rare gifts and story quests. The HKIA world is expansive - so far, i’ve been underwater, in a spooky swamp, on a volcano, at a frozen peak, behind a waterfall, and on islands made of clouds. A well done cozy game. Well worth the $6.99/month on Apple Arcade.

In a couple of weeks, I'll post another newsletter on my postpartum experience. That post will be behind a paywall because it’s a story about one of the most vulnerable points in my life. Hope to see you there!

The first one talked about the grief that came with the news of being pregnant.

The second one focused on my experience as an enby birthing person.

You don’t need to read these posts in sequence, but if you want to start there first, it’s linked here:

Part 1

Part 2

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Music

Peggy Gou: I Hear You

when (It Goes Like) Nanana came out as a single last year, i would play it every time i drive down a long stretch of the street without traffic lights. i’d imagine myself in a spacesuit, floating in a phallic rocket with stardusts zooming by me in the speed of the light. the synthy swings in this track reminds me of the space-electric songs that used to be my trusty focus playlist (one is called cosmic cardin, inspired by the designer). i can’t say that i loved every track in this album, but I also can’t deny Peggy’s skills of making people boogie. for now, this is the closest thing to a summer in ibiza for me.

Fashion

Aritzia Established Dress (on sale!)

there was a time in my life when aritzia was too low brow for me. i was living in new york, where i, along with everyone else, treated the poop-stained streets as the runway. i was intentional about sourcing my clothes so i mostly shopped from vintage, second-hand, or indie places, both for the carbon footprint and the thrill of finding uncommon pieces. pieces that would make me feel cute *and* special. but that time has passed. now that i’m pregnant, not only do i require different sizes (a moment of silence for the lime green dolce & gabbana suit that no longer fits me), but i’m also in a different career that made me feel slightly more self-conscious about what i wear. when i was working in tech where one of my colleagues dressed and identified as a fox, i felt emboldened to wear anything. i’m an academic with a teaching job now. while neither the university or the students have explicitly said anything, i felt like it’s probably a good idea to wear a bra. i’m still a bit torn about the boundary of style i can/should stretch into. part of me felt like i’m censoring myself, but another part is fully happy to participate in professor-core.

anyway, i digress. im getting married, so i’ve been looking for a white dress that fits my 9 months pregnant body without looking like im an asian pear wrapped in a styrofoam sleeve.

after some research, i realized that most white dresses that would look flattering on a pregnant body fell into goddess-core or princess-core:

link to exhibit 1 , exhibit 2, exhibit 3

i’m not really into that any of these looks. i wanted something fun! something fruity! maybe something like this Tara Tie Mini Dress! the ties on the side are perfect for adjusting the size to fit the belly - but do i really want to show my underwear at the city hall? no. so I moved on and spent maybe an hour imaging if i’d fit into an XL of this Tyler McGillivary dress. the model was wearing a M in this instance. even if my booty and chest fit into the dress, i envisioned my belly would burst out of that lily petal. the math was not mathing for me. i closed my laptop and went to the mall for a walk (fyi walking at the mall is my exercise now).

the mall was renovated a few years ago and became a destination for san diegans. there are outdoor lounge chairs, fire pits, jazz music that plays along the corridor that leads you to the bathroom. having just moved from new york, i hated how pleasant it was. i coded it as banal. but ive been practicing what my therapist called “letting san diego take care of me” and my feelings about the mall have changed. i like that parking is free for 2 hours. i like that there are not just one but three (!) boba choices. where was i? right, i was at aritzia, seriously doubting i’d find anything. but then i touched one of their hoodies and i was amazed by how soft it was. and then i touched more things and they were like ~~ not that bad ~~! and things were on sale! i might not want to be low brow but i love a sale. sorting through the racks, i found this knitted white dress. it’s made of a thick material, so it hides all signs of my pregnancy underwear. it’s heavy, so the bottom of the dress falls at the ankles with a flattering flowy-ness. most importantly, when i tried it on, the staff hyped me up so much that i felt like this was the one.

when i went home, i realized the price online was lower than the price i paid at the store. i didn’t understand what happened, so i chatted with their customer service rep who quickly refunded me the difference. i love a price adjustment! i love the mall!

Food

If you made it through my meandering of the mall portion, thank you. i feel a little guilty about that. to make up for whatever distress i might have caused you, here is a recipe of a drink that i grew up having in Hong Kong. i make a batch every few days to soothe the summer heat and stay hydrated:

coix seed drink

• 1/4 cup of coix seeds

• 5 cups of water

• sweetener of choice: rock sugar, Manuka honey

• (optional) goji berries

time: 1 hour

1. rise coix seeds. no need to soak them.

2. put coix seeds into a large pot with water. bring to boil.

3. once boiling, lower the heat to simmer. leave it simmering for 45 minutes to 1 hour.

4. it’s ready when the coix seeds are tender with a slight chewiness to them

5. add your preferred sweetener. I usually put 1 tbsp of Manuka honey and stir

6. add goji berries if you’re using them

enjoy this hydrating, dampness-ridding drink warm (preferred) or cool (but don’t drink too much cool stuff).

tv

as i told my social circles that i wouldn’t be seeing nobody starting august 1, i started replacing relationships with tv. this sounds kind of sad. but something tells me that this nesting period is important for the last month of pregnancy.

if you’re looking for the trendiest thing to watch to stay interesting at your next brunch date, sorry this recommendation column isn’t the place for that. I will, however, tell you about the shows that have moved me recently. Harlem is one of those shows. it features 4 best friends living in, well, Harlem. it’s basically the black version of sex and the city but dramatically better and more relevant than SJP and her wonderings. their relationships may feature a disappointment here and there, yet throughout these life changes one thing is clear - that they’ve got each other’s back. plus, queerness is already built into this plot, unlike the mess with miranda in And This And That (I call it that to make fun of its equally ridiculous title, And Just Like That).

book (this is an anti-recommendation)

i borrowed this book from the library only because I saw that it has over 330k reviews on amazon. i thought - what a popular book! it must be at least decent. i was wrong. i’m only a quarter of the way into the book, but i’m sad to report that neither the writing or the messages from the book captured me. for one, ryle is cis-male entitlement epitomized, assuming women should fulfill his sexual needs on demand. what kind of dated gender bullshit is this? i’m confused by lily’s attraction towards him, especially after the vile advances from ryle. this romance novel feels rather predatory to me. but maybe that’s the point, given the plot twist shown in the movie trailer starring Blake Lively. if this is what modern romance novels are like, im going back to Edith Wharton.

do you have a recommendation for me? i’m preparing for postpartum sitting-the-moon and would like some light reads. leave a comment below with your recs, please.

Read that post here

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Music: Where the Butterflies Go in the Rain (2024)

For years, I took 3-hour long baths with Raveena on repeat. Raveena like a musical haven during my healing era. Her music made me feel safe, romantic, and juicy. When the new album came out, I immediately tuned in. For reasons unrelated to being pregnant (but probably related to being pregnant unconsciously), Baby Mama is one of my favorite tracks. I daydreamed about bringing my baby (or just hiring a babysitter) to catch Raveena live and meditate with the audience one day.

Movie: Always Be My Maybe (2019)

Romcom is my fav genre of movies. But none of my favorite movies is a romcom. I just like the quotidian nature and the easiness of the genre itself. Romcom never really challenges me, which makes it the perfect source of relaxation and contentment. The plot is usually predictable, therefore, satisfying: A meets B. A and B get a little awkward (I giggle). A and B fall in love. A and B argue and might never see each other again (during which I’d play an armchair psychologists and diagnose the characters). A and B make up and the world is beautiful and good again.

I saw Always Be My Maybe when it came out in 2019. But my partner hasn’t seen it, and so we took up Netflix’s suggestion to watch this on a weeknight. Watching it for the second time while sitting next to my partner, who is Chinese, I realized this movie meant more to me than what the plot conveyed. School-aged friends that turn to adult romance is a plot that I have only seen portrayed by beautiful blonde-hair blue-eyed people on the big screen. Ali Wong and Randall Park aren’t the stereotypical Asians who are model minorities who’d do your math homework: they’re flawed, funny, creative, sexual, and more. This movie felt like a validation of my humanity in America.

TV Show: One Day (2024)

Continuing my love for romcom, I binge watched One Day a couple of weeks ago. It’s not a romcom but that’s what Netflix categorized it as so I spent the first few episodes waiting for something funny to happen. It wasn’t funny. It was cute tho. This show features an unlikely pair: Everyone crushed on Dexter’s good looks while Emma is a bookish aspiring writer who hangs out with a few close friends. I didn’t understand their attraction in the first episode. But maybe college party attractions didn’t need to make sense; hormones, alcohol, and existential questions drove most of the romantic interests I had in my early 20s. Anyway, One Day got me so good. I went from “i’m giving up on this bullshit” to “how dare the writers end the show”. Watch it.

Fashion: Bags bags bags bags

Because nothing fits me anymore, I’ve been rotating between an olive version and a grey version of this jumpsuit. I haven’t really given into pregnancy fashion because I fooled myself into believing that 9-10 months aren’t long enough to warrant a wardrobe update. At month 7, I was itching to look cute. I didn’t want to look like a beige clown no more. So I started looking at bags. I thought a bedazzled bag would rescue even the flattest fit. But I wasn’t necessarily looking for a vintage look:

I poked around the internet more, mainly searching on The Real Real hoping to score a vintage bag. I found a Fendi ponyhair shoulder bag that looked available but was actually sold. Do you ever feel a little proud when you find a bug on a website? I did when I found this bug on TRR. I like the Fendi so much that I started searching for it on other second hand sites like Poshmark and eBay. No luck. I switched gears and was reminded that Staud had cute bags (like the Moreau and this one). And then I spotted the Tommy Beaded bag, which is totally the vibe I was looking for - beaded bag with designs that don’t scream 70’s prom:

I ended up getting the black and silver zebra beaded one from Saks 5th Avenue because they had a promotion. Even with the new bling, I am sad to confirm that I still look like a beige ass clown. But it doesn’t matter because I feel different~ I like having a little purse. The impracticality of a small beaded bag with feels a indulgent especially because of my imminent status as a parent. I’ll savor this moment for as long as I can.

But things took a turn quickly. A week after using the Tommy, I realized that this shoulder bag actually was not gonna stay on my shoulders. The firm structure of the bag requires you to squeeze onto it with your inner arm for it to stay up. Every time I challenge the gravity of this bag, it gives in and falls onto the ground. But I wasn’t going to give up on the bedazzled pouch. To remedy this, I convinced myself that I just needed another bag. Ideally, a comfy crossbody bag that will hold a mini fan, a couple of protein bars, keys, lotion, hand sanitizer, and a few more things for me.

I was going to get the pouch from Uniqlo when I was in Japan last year. But because everyone and their parents have it, I thought I’d save some money and get a knock off from Temu. But then I remembered that Temu stole people’s information. Between saving money and honoring my privacy, I felt tired. Not pregnancy kind of tired, but like a kind of capitalism induced tired. Why does shopping have to be so complicated?

Anyway, I read that Viv Chen was wearing a BAGGU crescent bag, so I got influenced and went to their website. Look! A new collab! It’s weird! It’s cyber~~~ It’s cute! It’s Collina Strada! It gave me an option to not sell my data! Finally. An exhale. The search is over. I bought the crescent bag in Cream Chrysanthemum, subtly hoping the bag would give me the same healing vibes that a pot of hot chrysanthemum tea gives me.

that never happened. …

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Over the years, people have asked me for retreat center recommendations. Every time people asked, I would make a new list, promising myself that I’d make a running list to share with the internet. That never happened - until tonight - someone DM’d me about this and i took it as a sign.

For those of you who are interested in the retreat life but don’t know where to start, I’ve put together a shortlist of places that I’ve visited/heard about:

➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️➡️click me for the list of retreat centers ⬅️⬅️⬅️⬅️⬅️⬅️⬅️

Disclaimer:

This list has a range of places, from nunneries that are donation-based to bougie wellness resorts that charge thousands of dollars per night. I believe that healing is possible anywhere (including when you’re sitting at home which I’ve also done), and it depends on the context and what you’re open to receivng in the moment. You can use a filter view to sort and filter for the ones you want to see.

If you have suggestions for retreat centers to be added to the list - leave a comment or reply to the email. 🙃🙏💕✨

[edit] nudity after the paywall

dear body,

breathing the baby powder of stranger’s neck, i felt a jolt in you, a pulse of warmth that i used to only feel through other people’s bodies

before i fell in love with you, i was fixated with your head:

i mistook the attachment to the voices in your head as love because words were the only spells i knew at that time

i turned dead people’s ideas to body parts i’d reluctantly put in your mouths

i let a dark inky suit of shame sink into your skin. your blood almost turned to tar

i treated you like a voided check for years

your eyes are dripping saline

your wounds are now scars: stacked like a rolodex of fleshy emotions: organized, labeled, got a whole selection to pick from

the little hairs on your skin, hardened to stainless steel microneedles with each unannounced touch, only learned to be so sensitive because of moments, days, months, years of trespass

i didn’t know you until one night in silence you asked me to come into you

stillness was scary because that was when you hissed the loudest in spite

you shook, moaned, groaned, whimpered, wailed. then the water broke

no wonder you used to put me in the hospital for involuntary purging for days at a time

you kept throwing up until your bile was yellow and green like an infested swamp of other people’s opinions

after all the puking, i held your face up close to a mirror

“so this is what love looks like”

my love for you feels bigger and older than what i’ll ever know and that is ok

i let you flood from the base of your pelvic floor all the way to the top of your skull

spilling over like a fountainhead

i can almost hear little feet splashing the puddles

i love you

i am sorry

did you forgive me?

did i make you feel loved today?

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i am angel. i am non-binary. my pronouns are they/them/we/us.

while the witches were casting love spells and meditating in the 5d realm during the lion’s gate portal last month,

i listened to the 3am crickets and felt into myself:

a gnawing pit in the stomach when sentences begin with “woman should…” “men …

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i am awkward-footed, slender-fingered, not asian-enough, not american-enough, half-spirit, half-human: fully me.

❀

i was born in the southern tip of a peninsula, across a harbor named after a british queen, in a place where skyscrapers of matchstick shapes are built with bamboo facades: hong kong

i am the daughter of two people who married for economy and reputation, whose coming-of-age tales were set in the backdrop of a cultural revolution covered in blood, whose ancestors included the plenipotentiary of a nation and a self-made millionaire.

i grew up in a greenhouse made of glass, transparent walls so i could see but could not go outside. Still, to this day, most of my dreams are set indoors. i dream of wide-open landscapes running with wild horses. perhaps that is why i have let go of an apartment lease in exchange for a life of floating from one temporary rental to another since the last winter.

i resonate with the in-betweens:

• my shoe size is 7.5 (us)

• my ring finger is as long as halfway through the index and the middle fingers

• at the time of writing this post, my tongue had spent half of its life making the pecking sounds of cantonese, another half dragging vowels like a valley girl

• as a child, my eyes saw spirits immaterial to the human world. sometimes, i felt like i was living in the bardo.

suspended in a liminal space, i swung between the extremes: it was either nodding indiscriminately in the glasshouse or running towards other people’s nos.

now, seven months into a journey of floating, i realized neither is the way to live. i have emerged out of the ends because i have found a center within me to ground on.

hear me when i say this: i am awkward-footed, slender-fingered, not asian-enough, not american-enough, part-spirit, part-human: fully me.

it feels kind of vulnerable to write about myself. but that’s exactly the point of my starting this newsletter: to embody vulnerability as to enliven yours.

i’d love to hear from you - please:

Leave a comment

this is part 1 of a series of unknown parts to tell the story of me, which covers stories of intergenerational trauma, romantic relationships, immigrant journey, queerness, healing, and ponderings of many earthly tings.

if you want to keep reading it, u can subscribe now to get updated when i publish in the future. and ofc you should share with a friend:

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last but definitely not least, here is a meme just 4 u 💗🦋🙏🐬❤️‍🔥🕊🐝✨💝💞

welcome to the portal by me, angel (they/them)

you probably met me on ig @buddha.bagel (if you haven’t yet, check it out - i’m pretty active on ig)

this is where i write with the vulnerability-bravery of a butterfly just merging out of a chrysalis, where you read with an open-heartedness that peels back a layer of the skin

i will share stories, reflection…

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