Category Archives: Family life

Family life, Serving happiness

Walking Myself Back Into Life

I’m pacing down the footpath, a dog lead in one hand and tissues in the other — because yes, spring hayfever does not care about life choices. My eyes are watering… partly allergies, partly gratitude.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m walking the dog.

Not rushing out the door for a 7am meeting.
Not glued to a screen answering urgent emails.
Not living life in the small cracks between stress and exhaustion.

Just walking. Just breathing. Just… being here.

Minnie trots ahead, proudly showing off her summer coat, shiny, soft, and completely unaware she’s become the mascot of my comeback to living. Three years have slipped by since I’ve done something as simple and sacred as this daily ritual of movement.

And as I watch the kids run ahead, laughing over who gets to hold the ball next, something hits me:
I feel like I am part of my own life again.

I’m seeing moments I used to scroll past.
I’m hearing the conversations I used to tune out.
I’m rediscovering the man walking beside me, my husband, not as a co-parent in survival mode, but as my person.

This isn’t about slowing down. It’s about finally moving forward.

Leaving that high-stress job wasn’t a loss, it was a homecoming. A return to the parts of me that were buried under deadlines, performance reviews, and the constant pressure to be “on.”

Now, the most important thing I show up for is right here on this evening walk:

✨ My family.
✨ My health.
✨ The little joyful things.
✨ The dog with the gorgeous summer coat who reminds me to enjoy the sun too.

Spring may set off my allergies, but it’s also giving me a season of renewal.

And as the breeze carries a mix of pollen and possibility, I can finally say:

I’m back.
I’m here.
I’m living my own life again, one dog walk at a time.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DR3_rfeAbMX/?igsh=cTVwem1rN2JxaHI3
Creative life, Culture & Heart, Videos

Journey Back to the Needle: Crafting My First Hmong Corset

Video

It’s been a long time since I’ve made something with my own hands. Life has been busy with work, family, kids, travel, and the everyday rush that leaves creativity sitting quietly in the corner, waiting patiently for me to return. For years, I’ve said “one day I’ll sew again.” Then, suddenly, without planning or perfection, that day finally came.

My first project back?
A Hmong-inspired corset.

There’s something poetic about that. A garment designed to shape the body, helping it stand tall and confident… inspired by a culture that has shaped me since the day I was born. As soon as I started choosing fabrics, playing with the lines, sketching ideas, and thinking about embroidery — I could feel something familiar returning. Not just the skill, but the sense of identity that comes with it.

Sewing Hmong elements into a modern piece feels like stitching heritage into the present. Corsets aren’t traditional Hmong garments, but the textiles, colours, patterns and handwork? Those carry memory. They carry my grandmother’s hands, my mother’s stories, and the colours I grew up seeing at New Year festivals, ceremonies, weddings, and family gatherings. Every thread carries something deeper than fashion.

But let’s be honest: the process isn’t glamorous. I’m fully prepared for uneven stitches, fabric that refuses to cooperate, measuring twice and still cutting wrong (😂), and at least one meltdown where I question why I ever thought this was a good idea. Yet even that feels meaningful — because returning to creativity means returning to imperfection.

I’m excited to share the wins, the mistakes, the experiments, the little breakthroughs, and all the messy parts in between. This journey isn’t about making a perfect corset; it’s about reconnecting with culture, creativity, and myself.

So here I am…
Back at the sewing machine.
Hands clumsy, heart full.
Crafting a Hmong corset — one stitch at a time.

Culture & Heart, Family life

When Life Nudges You to Look Up

Today has been a heavy day. The kind that slows the world down just enough for you to hear your own heartbeat and wonder what it all really means. We just found out that my last remaining grandparent  (my grandma on my mum’s side) has been diagnosed with cancer. It started with a scan for a simple rash, and suddenly we’re standing face-to-face with words none of us wanted to hear.

My grandma doesn’t want to know the full results. She’s decided, in the most “her” way possible, that she only wants to talk about happy things. Joy, light, stories. No numbers. No prognosis. No fear.

I admire that. I envy that. And I’m also trying to understand it.

Because at the same time, I’m sitting here having just resigned from a job that took more from me than I realised — time with my family, energy from my days, space from my heart. I thought stepping back would give me clarity, but instead it feels like life has placed a mirror in front of me and whispered: “Now look.”

And so I’m questioning life. Mortality. The fragility of it all. The choices we make by default. The moments we postpone because we assume there will be more. The way we drift through seasons until something — illness, loss, change — shakes us awake.

My grandma doesn’t want to know her timeline. And yet her decision has made me think deeply about mine.

If I have to leave something behind one day, years from now, I don’t want it to be titles, or impressive job descriptions, or a CV that looks good on paper. Those things won’t matter to the people who love me.

I want to leave foundations.
Stable ones.
Warm ones.
Ones my children can stand on when life shakes them.

I want to leave memories that make them feel safe. Values that help them stay kind. Stories that remind them where they come from. Choices that show them what truly mattered to me — family, love, time, presence.

Today reminded me how quickly life can change. How fragile our bodies are. How strong our hearts can be. And how little control we really have over the timeline of anything.

But we can control how we fill the days we’re given.

So tonight, I’m holding my family a little tighter. I’m thinking of my grandma and the strength in her softness. And I’m letting myself feel it all. The fear, the sadness, the clarity, the love.

Life is short.
But maybe that’s what makes it so unbelievably precious.

Family life, Videos

Getting organised. Turns out people use email and digital calendars outside of work too 🤯

I asked my friends how they stay organised in their personal life…
Turns out people actually use email and digital calendars outside of work too. 🤯

Meanwhile me, relying on vibes, memory, and the occasional sticky note: 👀😂

So I did the only sensible thing… took it 1-step further (as an overachiever 🤣), not only set up my calendars but bought myself a skylight too.

Welcome to the era of Personal Admin Helen ✨📅💁🏻‍♀️

Family life

🎾 Mum Duty Chronicles: The Tennis Lesson Edition

Me: professional driver, water-bottle refiller, and motivational coach (for one small tennis star).

Between packing snacks, finding missing rackets, and trying to remember if it’s court 3 or court 4 this week — motherhood feels like a full-time logistics role with overtime in encouragement.

But then I watch her walk out onto that court, ponytail bouncing, racket in hand, confidence growing, and I remember why I love this chaos. Every missed serve, every giggle between drills, every “Mum, did you see that one?” makes it all worth it.

Parenting isn’t glamorous; it’s sweaty, messy, and somehow still the most beautiful thing. Because in between the runs to tennis, the snack runs, and the life runs, we’re teaching our kids to show up, try again, and laugh when it goes sideways.

So here’s to all the mums out there running on caffeine and love, courtside, car-side, or anywhere in between.