I didn’t think it would happen so publicly. Certainly not in front of hundreds of people.
In my fantasy, the first time I’d come out about my complex PTSD rage episodes in vivid excruciating detail, I’d be hiding behind a computer screen, or in the comfort of my own home, where I could crawl under the covers after leaking the shameful truth out.
But reality brought an even more sudden and dramatic coming out.
Did you know that you can be born twice in this life?
Once out of the sacred womb of your mother, as you burst kicking and screaming into the world as a tiny human, your soul incarnate in this lifetime. This is the birth we celebrate every year, huddled around you in a circle, smiling with love. Even after you blow out the candles, the room glows bright with your light.
Earlier this summer, a bout of existential void hit me. Sweat from the heat mixed with sweat from my anxiety. I knew something was missing, but I couldn’t figure out what. Paired with it was deep existential exhaustion—the kind that makes your hair feel tired. The kind you feel in your bones, even in the cells of your marrow. The weariness. The fragility of bones and spirit about to break.
“You don’t seem happy.
At three or four years old, I sat alone on the carpet in our Chinese immigrant home in San Francisco, never knowing when anyone would ever come home. Locked inside, lonely, feeling abandoned.
My parents were doing the best they could to provide for our family in a foreign land, but we were poor and I was often neglected—not by choice but by necessity.
It hurt. A lot. Or at least, it should have.
As I held him in my arms while my insides were sewn back into place on the operating table, my son opened his little beady eyes one at a time.
At last, we met face to face on a rare snowy day last April. Nine months of gestation (well, a little over nine… stubborn dude was a bit too cozy in there), seventeen hours of excruciating induced labor, two epidural attempts, and one emergency c-section later, Atlas made it out.
"Unfortunately, this will be our last performance for Carmen," the conductor announced to our packed audience of over 1,000 people on March 10, 2020.
We didn't know how to react. Applause for the amazing opera performance we just saw? Or keep our mouths open in shock, as he shared that all large state-owned venues closed the next day due to the pandemic? Some guests coughed around me. I coughed too. Oh shit.
Looking for a therapist or coach but don't know where to start?
I was there too. Back in 2016 I was struggling with anxiety, Imposter Syndrome, and building a new business after leaving my corporate job.
I wanted to find some professional help. But I was overwhelmed. How to begin?
Luckily, I found a therapist and a coach that year. They both transformed my life.
Since then, I've worked with several therapists and coaches.
The ones we love live on in us. 
Knowing this has helped me immensely through my grief.
Are you on a grief journey too? There are often so many unanswered questions and it can be a confusing painful time.
Yet there are things I do know.
I know that in my darkest moments, my parents are comforting me, even though they have passed on.
I also know that in my happiest moments, their spirits come alive to celebrate with me.
What's your relationship to the word "Hustle?"
Me? I used to wear it like a badge of pride. "I'm a hustler!" I would proudly proclaim. And I worked through long ass hours living that coveted Silicon Valley life.
Then I burned out in corporate.
"Ok, no more of that!" I said. Then I started my own business and became a high-flying consultant. Literally. I was flying to different countries, working out of hotel rooms and airport lounges, proud of my so-called "freedom."
Failures. Why don't we talk more about them?
They're so very human. Yet so many podcasts focus only on success.
That's why I'm grateful that the incredible human Amrutha Ragavan has created a podcast on: Yup...FAILURES!
And I'm honored that I got to share my very vulnerable story of relationship failures and fears on "The Seven Eighths."
I talk about how in 2016, I started working with both a coach AND a therapist on my fear of abandonment.