In Vietnamese, we have a proverb “Uống nước nhớ nguồn,” which means “When drinking water, remember its source.” Simple words, but they carry generations of wisdom. It’s a gentle reminder to never forget where what sustains us comes from. And somehow… in some miraculous way, I find myself returning to this ancient truth, with lots to reflect on lately and more to share in the days ahead. In a world that moves fast and glorifies what’s new, it’s easy to take the “water” in our

I used to wait for signs… for someone to reassure me, for conditions to feel perfect, for some kind of confirmation that I wasn’t about to make a mistake. But waiting for external validation is its own kind of trap, you know? Because then your life is never really yours. You’re not here to take a passive role. You’re here to evolve. People will always have opinions, and circumstances will always keep changing. Even the most “perfect” condition has its own imperfections. And e

Perhaps not once, but you’ve asked yourself this question more times than you can count. Spoiler alert: it’s not because you’re cursed (of course). But it’s also not only because you’re being tested to see what you’re made of. It’s true—no one builds strength in seasons of comfort. You don’t realize how resilient you are until life stops being gentle on you. Remember back then? The very things that felt unbearable at the time are the same things that formed you. Not by accide

The older I get, the more clearly I feel my root as a Vietnamese woman and the indelible imprint it leaves on me. Our homeland’s history is the work of making and keeping a country, and through every chapter, women have held the line. Beyond the heroines who fought on battlefields were the women at home who did it all—stocking the front with food and medicine, holding families together, raising children alone, cooking, mending, nursing. If something needed doing, they did it.

Lần nào về nhà cũng nhiều kỷ niệm.  Chả ai nghĩ mình là người ít chia sẻ, nhưng mình biết mình thuộc loại lười kể lể. Cái gì chia sẻ mà...

- I don’t know which one to choose… they’re both very nice. - Maybe both! - Haha, I know… I have a friend who’s leaving New York soon, so I think this could be a nice gift for him. - How long have you been here? - Almost 10 years! - Oh, and where were you before that? - Also New York, but I was upstate… haha. So about 13 years in total. I’m originally from Vietnam, though. - So you are Vietnamese? I had a feeling. - Ha, is it because of my accent? Yes, I am indeed! - No. I wa

I still went to watch Barbie yesterday to give it a fair shot. The little girl in me also wanted to join the fun. As a kid, I always...

- Do you like living in America? - Yeah, I find that it's a good fit for me... Would you like to come one day? - I do. I'm actually waiting for my paperwork to be done, hopefully I'll be able to come soon! - That's great! Are you going to be there for school? - Yes… but also, my dad's been living there while I live with my mom and my younger brother. We haven't got a chance to meet him again in 6 years… - Oh wow, are your parents still considered being together? - They are… w

For many of us who celebrate Lunar New Year, January probably feels a bit odd — as if we had at least a month-long time to celebrate two new years in a row (or again?) — especially this year as the first day of the lunar new year takes place on the first of February. End-of-year reflections and New Year’s resolutions can feel a bit awkward — when is the end and when is the beginning? I don’t know about a month of celebration, but January reminds me of a second chance. Like la

“Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.” We’ve heard this saying many times, but is it right? The past week got me rethinking the meaning of luck, and as much as I’m tempted to agree with the above statement because it’s been shared so widely, I disagree with how luck is defined here. When I was younger, one of the greatest fears that I had was that all my achievements in life would be viewed as luck, no matter how hard I tried — if I failed, it was my bad