100 Hours Club Each of GMI's accomplishments are built upon volunteer contributions. When volunteers join our team, we don't question their background or motivations, because we believe actions can speak for themselves. As it is said, "Time will know”. Although time banking is not yet a prevalent concept in the development world, we are consciously applying this concept and its principles into GMI's work. With each passing day, GMI constantly learns, reflects and improves, continuously evolving to fulfill ourselves while empowering others- in our case, GlobalMoms. 100-Hours is a noteworthy milestone for any volunteer. It demonstrates our value, commitment and dynamic work which, step by step, improves ourselves, our service targets and the world we share. This acknowledgement page showcases all past and present volunteers who have dedicated over 100 hours to the GMI mission. Thank you and congratulations to all. You are more than brilliant, and your potential is yet to be fully revealed. Christina Ren English MomStory Editor “The Light We Carry” - Michelle Obama Emma Zhang Beijing Event Coordinator “Moms make the world go around" Gao Yuan Design Innovation Center Co-Director MomDesigner100 Mentor “Love is the power of sustainable development.” Jane Founder and Chief Volunteer “The best giving is giving without being asked.” No effort will be wasted. GMI aims to mobilize like-minded volunteers globally to build a people-first ecosystem, where women support women, moms support moms, everyone flows. Jane, Founder of GMI Lotus Wang Jobs4Moms Program Lead “Carpe Diem.“ - Dead Poets Society Margaret Nie Writer, Senior Editor of MomStory 100 “Sharing is caring!“ Nina Cheng MomStory100 Editor “Cor Cordium“ - Shelley’s Epitaph Mari International Community Coordinator “Keep the sun in your heart“ Tingfan MomStory100 Program co-Lead “My life is shining“ Sharon Liu UX/UI Designer “Love is an action, never simply a feeling.“ - bell hooks Vivian Wu MomCEO100 Program Lead "Fulfill yourself through empowering mothers" Interested in joining our volunteer work? Join Us

Meet the Team Volunteer Operation Team International Advisory Board Youth Advisory Board 100 Hours Volunteer Club Operation Team+ Alma Liu Legal Consultant Faye Yang GMI art+ Program Advisor Mari International Community Coordinator Sun Lingxi Jobs4Moms Co-Initiator Chai Chai GMI art+ Program Advisor Jane Li Founder and Chief Volunteer Nessie Editor, WellBeing4Moms Program Coordinator Vivian Wu MomCEO100 Program and Volunteer Coordinator Christina Ren Translator and MomStory Editor Joanna Cheung WellBeing4Moms Lead Petru Simion International Youth Volunteer Team Lead Yvonne Sun Jobs4Moms Program Co-lead Eliz Yang GMI art+ Program Advisor Lotus Wang Jobs4Moms Program Lead Pinky, Chen Jiayi MomStory Editor Zheng Xiao 10-Months Writing Program Coordinator Eva, Wang Yiman Editor and Event Planner Margaret Nie MomStory100 Program Lead Sharon Liu UX/UI Designer Ziwei Luo English Podcast Producer and City Chapter Lead (CA) Back to Top Operation Team International Advisory Team International Advisory Board Ms. Charmaine du Plessis Charmaine du Plessis is a global marketing communications professional and has held senior executive leadership roles in marketing, corporate and strategic communication, public relations, and brand and reputation management. Her career is multi-sectoral and she enjoys working across cultures. She has worked and partnered with organizations in South Africa, United States of America, Dubai, India, and Malaysia. Her expertise, as integrated marketing, and corporate communications specialist, covers various aspects, including the development, implementation, and management of numerous integrated marketing communication strategies. She currently resides in Beijing, China. Dr. May Farid She is a political scientist studying civil society, policy and development in contemporary China and beyond. She currently researches education policy in China as a Visiting Scholar at the University of Stanford's Graduate School of Education. Her research centers on the interplay between citizen initiatives and state policy and practice, and the implications of this dynamic for development and governance. Ordinary citizens are increasingly taking individual and collective initiative to address development challenges. Ms. Sonja Ling Sonja has worked as a renewable energy policy advocate and currently works at Sun Path Electric, a socially conscious solar company in Seattle. She is the program director for Global Women Partners in Philanthropy, a project that helps donors worldwide become effective philanthropists in their own communities by adopting the collective giving grantmaking model developed by the Washington Women’s Foundation. Sonja is the mom of two kids and believes we must all take local action on climate change. For over ten years, she served on the board of Washington Women for Climate Action Now (formerly CoolMom), a Seattle-based nonprofit that engages and empowers women to lead equitable climate action in Washington state. She has lived and worked in Taiwan and during the past decade she and her family have spent extended periods of time in both Beijing and Kunming, China. She holds a BA from the University of Washington and MSc in Environmental Change and Management from the University of Oxford, where she focused her research on solar power in Qinghai, China. Ms. Marta Lopez Marta Cámara, also known as Constanza Chesnott, is a screenwriter and fiction author with Penguin Random House, celebrated for over a decade of compelling novels that captivate readers across languages. Her works, translated into English, Spanish, Italian, and Portuguese, bring her storytelling to diverse audiences worldwide. In addition to novels, Marta has written limited series adaptations, original screenplays, and specialized adaptations of Chinese series for foreign markets. With over 20 years as an experienced copyright lawyer, she bridges the creative and legal fields with expertise. In September 2024, Marta participated as a writer and script supervisor in the renowned 48-Hour Film Challenge in Shanghai, where her team’s short film True Artist earned seven nominations. Her passion for culture and exploration is matched by her international life experience—having lived in Taipei, Singapore, the United States, France, Germany, Italy, Ecuador, Spain, and China. She is fluent in English, Spanish, Italian, French, and Chinese, embodying a truly global perspective. Ms. Jasmine Lau Jasmine Lau is a social entrepreneur, educator, and international community builder. She is the Co-Founder and Executive Director of PIM (Purpose in Motion, formerly Philanthropy in Motion), which empowers young people with education, resources, and networks to become effective leaders and changemakers. She is part of the inaugural board of advisors to the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation’s Goalkeepers initiative, which aims to promote collective citizen action globally to accomplish the United Nations Sustainable Development Goals. Jasmine has been recognized by Forbes 30 Under 30 for her work in social entrepreneurship and the World Economic Forum as a Global Shaper. She is a recipient of the Richard Rockefeller Fellowship and the Hong Kong Youth Service Award. Ms. Mari Sharashidze With the educational background in Social and Political Sciences, Mari has worked in non-profit organizational development in Georgia and has seen first-hand that empowering women and girls can bring transformational improvements in families, communities, and societies. She has worked in education industry for over five years while also volunteering for women’s empowerment and well-being in Beijing, China. She has seen the importance of people’s engagement in actions towards positive impact making.With some knowledge in partnership development, community engagement, child and youth education, strategy planning, policy advocacy and parenting, she’s here to contribute to the overall well-being of GlobalMoms. Ms. Wang Le A Chinese mom who lives in New York. She comes with many years’ experience in international development and the Humanatrain sector in Asia and Africa. She worked both on the front line supporting children and mothers in need and influencing policy and political debates at United Nations through inter-government processes. Wang Le also brings experts in Children’s rights, non-profit management and resilience-building for the most vulnerable groups in society. Her life and work in a multi-culture environment have given her a unique perspective on inclusion and diversity. From the most remote area of northern Kenya to the metropolitan of shanghai or New York, mothers play the most important role to ensure their kids are healthy and achieve their full potential in development. This is why the global mums’ initiative is an excellent platform to connect them and empower them to be the best of themselves and be the best for their children and society! Researcher Zhao Jie Zhao Jie has been engaged in women's studies for more than 30 years, and is one of the important promoters and founders of social gender and development in Yunnan. She is currently a board member of the China Women's Studies Association and is also a principal expert adviser to relevant government departments and civil society organizations on projects to promote gender equality and the development of Women/girls. She is a leader in academic theory, policy advocacy and action research, and has extensive experience in gender analysis, participatory ideas and methods, and feminist fieldwork, her works are abundant, and some of her ideas and pioneering research have been praised by colleagues at home and abroad. She retired from the Yunnan Academy of Social Sciences in 2011 and continues to promote gender equality in China and Yunnan. Ms. Kitty Li A Hong Kong returned overseas Chinese youth leader and one of the top ten female entrepreneurs in the Chinese education industry. As the founder of a leading high-end brand in the Chinese family education sector, she has made significant contributions to the development of the Chinese family education market with her practical and unique insights. She has access to high-end educational toys for infants and young children worldwide, as well as abundant resources of family education experts. She pays special attention to the needs of contemporary women and mothers, accumulating rich experiences and venturing into areas such as family offices, law firms, and mommy clubs. She pursues the charm of lifelong growth and is passionate about empowering others. Dr. Samantha Sibanda Born in Zimbabwe and working in Beijing. Founder of Appreciate Africa Network an organization that is there to promote the values of African socio-cultural and economic contributions in the world. She is also the brains behind Pride Of Africa Asia Awards which aims to appreciate African individuals who are making remarkable contributions in Asia Pacific. Ms. Aisha Moffett Aisha Moffett is the Founder and CEO of CORE, a women’s empowerment organization that has successfully built a global community of women that focuses on their holistic wellbeing. Core women share their truth to help each other thrive in their personal and professional lives. Currently, CORE women are from over 30 countries. Aisha is a professional life and team coach. Partnering with individual and teams globally to move forward toward achieving their goals. She’s also a story maven and “trailblazing spouse” that is passionate about empowering women to embrace and live out their story with intention and purpose. Prior to living in China, Aisha had 22 years of operations management experience in the technology, sales, marketing, and human resources industries in the United States. Mr. Chen Jiajun Chen Jiajun, philanthropy adviser, he has served as Secretary General of Beijing Yixingzhe Foundation, Secretary General of Foshan Shunde District Hechuang Foundation, founder of Baike Green Travel Charity Organization, and member of the Guangzhou Yuexiu District CPPCC. He is the winner of the "Public Action Award" of the "First Responsible China Ceremony" of Southern Metropolis Daily (2010). He has promoted Guangzhou to become the first city in the country to disclose PM2.5, and jointly launched the "Reject Road Bully" public advocacy with Didi, ofo, One Foundation, Alipay, and China National Radio. During his past professional career, he has managed, funded and invested more than 250 million RMB of impact capital, helping more than 50 social enterprises and 4,000 small and micro self-employed individuals. Currently, he is a philanthropy adviser for multiple family offices and has in-depth research and practical experience in family philanthropy, corporate "second curve" growth and just transformation. Read More Read More Read More Read More Read More Read More Read More Read More Read More Read More Read More Read More Youth Advisory Board Back to Top Youth Advisory Board Kate, Xu Ting VC investor, venture builder, bilingual podcast host and producer, specializing in cross-border and emerging markets since 2017. "The women/female friends I have met in my life have showed me the limitless possibilities of what it means to be a woman. I am very blessed to have met them and have learned from them to follow your heart, your passion, and to live the life you want. There is magic , strength and power in female bonding." Petru Simon Petru is a seasoned product manager, with +5 years of experience in entrepreneurship, scale-ups and innovation. More recently, also a student in International Development and Management at Lund University (Sweden) and as of latest relocated to Beijing. He is passionate about development across a variety of topics, from climate and wellbeing to social change and women empowerment. Rebecca Zhang Ex-consultant engaged in multiple IPO projects, broasts abudant expertise in market research, market sizing, market data collection and analysis, interviews with client companies and industry professionals. The project ranged from TMT, retail, consumer healthcare, and Pan-entertainment. Founder of an emerging feminsm NGO named 'Your Crescent Moon', providing sex education courses for 1,000 girls in remoted underdeveloped areas. Ms. Zhang holds a Bachelor of Administration in Tongji University and a Master degree of Social Science from the University of Hong Kong. Abuya E. Best Abuya E. Best, from Nigeria. She currently works with the Edo State Government as a Medical Laboratory Technician. Alongside her main profession, she is a passionate UI/UX designer, leading the design team at Kaku Technologies, a platform that focuses on reading, writing, and publishing books online. My skills also extend to No-code web development. One of the roles she cherishs most is her position as a volunteer facilitator at DigiGirls. There, she has the opportunity to empower Nigerian girls and women by teaching them how to build e-commerce websites, enabling them to bring their businesses online. In her spare time, she enjoys brainstorming ideas that can benefit her community and nation at large. Additionally, she has a keen interest in learning about foreign cultures. Sharon Liu Sharon is a mindfulness coach and UX designer currently based in Hainan, China. She has a background in contemporary fine art and visual cultures. As a coach, she supports clients’ sense of self-belonging which empowers them to move through life with easeful authenticity. As a designer, she specializes in working with clients whose work focuses on wellbeing and social impact. Designer of the first GMI website. Nubes Chen With master degree in urban planning in the US, Nubes has abundant consulting experiences in business and public areas in China from 2018 to 2022. She also pays individual efforts to women charities as a volunteer researcher. She highly appreciates GMI’s endeavor to redefine mothers’ values and desires to contribute to women’s development. With the idea of combining her interests in urban development and gender equality, she hopes to instill humanism in our cities and make them places where women's stories are heard, women's power is granted, and everyone is respected as an individual. Read More Read More Read More Read More Read More Read More Back to Top

GlobalMoms Initiative A nonprofit initiative that connects mothers around the world with social, professional, and financial resources as they strive to achieve physical and mental well being. About Us Programs Close Gender Gap for Moms and Everyone While supporting the UN’s Global Goals to achieve a better and more sustainable future for all, GMI intends to draw global attention to the gap between women with children and everybody else. Given that nearly two billion of the world’s population are mothers, identifying their needs and problems and providing support to their well-being has a major impact on the world’s future. MomStory100 Project The MomStory100 Project relies on volunteer story lovers to find, link, and/or interview moms. We also encourage every mom to write her own narrative to identify her needs and the barriers she experiences against individual development. Share Your Story MomCEO100 Club Are you a mom entrepreneur looking for support? Our MomCEO community aims to link key educational and developmental resources such as knowledge, skills, technology, talent, funding and social networks for mom business owners to help them start and grow their business. Join The Club Join Us Who is a globalmom? If you see yourself as a global citizen or care about world issues, and are interested to join hands with other moms to break social barriers for a more equitable society for all, then you should join us! Volunteer GMI Newsletter To keep posted on GMI's milestones, impact, funding, jobs, and partnership opportunities, please subscribe to our Quarterly Newsletter. Subscribe Thanks for subscribing! City Chapters To expand our global network, unite globalmoms, and inspire the world with MomQ, we are activating offline City Chapters throughout China and beyond. View Chapters

photo generated by AI, town of Scunthorpe Written by Joanne English translated by Wang Yiman (Eva)   I am someone who clings to the past. As a child, I couldn't bear to throw away the handmade crafts, the toy cars I assembled, or my notebooks. Back then, the concept of nostalgia hadn’t settled in my mind; I didn’t understand why I felt this way. I simply thought that if I discarded them, a part of me would vanish, and just the thought brought tears to my eyes. There was no space for them at home! My mother would inexplicably scold me, mocking me as if I were Lin Daiyu (A tragic and sensitive heroine from the classic Chinese novel 'Dream of the Red Chamber,' renowned for her poetic talent, intricate emotions, and tragic fate) . I hadn’t read Dream of the Red Chamber ; I only knew that Daiyu was a good girl, so I didn’t hold it against her. My father understood me; whenever he heard my mother planning to throw away my things, he would reprimand her: “These are memories! When she has children, she can share her stories with them.”   At those moments, my mother would soften, transforming from a mother into a woman, responding with a gentle “Alright, alright.” Eventually, I did have a child and found myself sharing my stories with him—stories in which my mother had a happy, joyful childhood. Sometimes he would ask, “Mummy, why are you crying?” I never knew when to tell him that those weren’t just my stories.   At sixteen, I decided to leave home.   Why? No reason, I just wanted to go. In hindsight, I could conjure countless tragic justifications for my escape from my father’s violence and my mother’s indifference. But sixteen-year-old me told me, in my mind, it wasn’t that complicated—I simply wanted to leave. I believed her; she was always so certain, and I liked that about her.   That summer, packing became a torment. What do English people wear? Would the school provide notebooks? Whose letters should I take? I thought I should hold onto something tangible when I felt homesick. It sounds silly, but she kept all her most cherished items filled with memories, and in the dreary town of Scunthorpe, she spent countless nights crying while clutching a plastic bag with “Carrefour” printed in Chinese characters from her mother, which held her slippers. She carefully folded that bag and placed it on her bookshelf. This noisy book would rustle when she took it out, its pages filled with her sobs, yet she read it over and over.   She firmly believed that England was just a temporary refuge. The perfect exam scores, the medals from camping trips, and her most treasured art portfolio—she eventually brought them all back home, to that singular home. Her parents didn’t understand, constantly asking why she needed to bring back such important things! She couldn’t explain; this was the home she wanted to escape from, yet also the place where she held her hopes and her cherished memories. She felt frustrated, her eyes reddening again. “Oh dear, she’s just like Lin Daiyu,” her mother would say. She began to dislike Daiyu, thinking she must be a girl just as sentimental as herself.   At seventeen, she walked home one night, chased by a group of thugs wielding pipes and beer bottles. “Dying far from home,” this phrase appeared vividly before her for the first time. She didn’t want to die far from home. The unfamiliar place must become her home.   At twenty-eight, she achieved that; England became her home. She lived in a little house she decorated with care, held a respectable job, distinguished accents from various regions, and even learned some Latin from her colleagues. Her English was timeless, genderless, and full of confidence. Her Chinese, however… she didn’t like the version of herself that spoke it; it felt like the voice of a sixteen-year-old girl. Shouldn't home and memories be kept at a distance from the “now”? She asked herself. Colleagues joked that she spoke like a Welsh princess. Indeed, in English, her gestures seemed as though she were a white woman.   She thought, now I can rest easy and be buried here.   The life of an expatriate is a performance; she couldn’t fit into the old role nor fully embrace a new identity. When would this absurd act come to a close? She didn’t know. She silenced the Lin Daiyu within her, donned ill-fitting Shakespearean garb, and danced, sang, and performed on this stage of immigration, which had no audience.   She no longer clung to objects; while traveling, her husband would often ask if she wanted to buy souvenirs. “No need,” she would say, “there’s no space at home…” In her mother’s voice, what was there to commemorate? Managing a private museum was too much trouble. Dusting was a hassle, and moving was inconvenient. She feared they would break, shatter, and in the end, she lost her sense of feeling. Yet, she was happy for several years. Following a script we all know, she became a wife and a mother. An actor who performs according to a script and lines deserves praise.   But over time, the ill-fitting costumes began to chafe, and the lines became increasingly convoluted; it wasn’t her language…   At thirty-three, her husband hoped she would accompany him to Canada, while she wanted to write a chapter of her own story—just a small chapter, about her career and passions. The mysterious playwright of life remained silent as ever, offering no answers. She and her husband argued, ultimately compromising for the sake of the child. I asked her, “Did you concede?” “I don’t know,” she replied. “If I made a decision, it must be what I wanted.” Her words softened, yet still carried the certainty of a sixteen-year-old. I liked her.   Can you guess if that mysterious playwright knew that by thirty-five, the word “divorce” had grown like a virus in her mind? She said, “When I stand alone, it’s no longer marriage.” But her mother said, “You’re ill.” Knowing her temperament, and understanding her resolve, her mother only inquired about how the assets would be divided before hastily hanging up. “Well,” she thought, “it’s good that my mother doesn’t ask…” But her mother was right; perhaps she was unwell, suffering from a similar ailment as Daiyu. She began to weep over things—a forest, the moon, photographs, words, caterpillars, even strangers brought her to tears. I asked her, “Do you like the person you are now?” “I don’t know,” she replied, “but I know you will always love me, just as you would love a stone, a gust of wind, a season, or a stranger. I love the honest and brave life I pursue, a life that is the simplest for every woman.”   I believe her.

Photo provided by Charmaine Told and Finalized by Charmaine Interviewed by Qiran Zhang and Liqing Pan Proofread and Edited by Liqing Pan When Jane invited me to take the interview, I jokingly said that she would probably be disappointed as I don’t see myself as a woman of fascinating stories. I lived a generally speaking smooth and peaceful life, without significant ups and downs.   Although my story might not be that exciting, my life is not without passion, joys and sorrows. I have a profound passion for education and communications and have loved working and in education and being an educator myself for most of my working life. I try to stay positive most of the time, and I feel I have been lucky and very blessed.   Throughout my life I have lived in many different places: South Africa, the USA, Malaysia, and now China. In each country I kept learning new things and sharing them with others. At the age of 57, I am still guest-lecturing and teaching part-time, and this time in a new country, a new culture, which is quite exciting although challenging. I like this adventure, but more importantly, I see it as me fulfilling the meaning of life and answering my call of passion. I hope my story will inspire some of you and lighten your heart a little bit.   Passion for education    My hometown is Johannesburg, in South Africa, the country often described as the“rainbow nation”. I was born and bred in a white middle-class family, and my parents have always been very supportive. As I grew up, I realized just how privileged we were as white South Africans. We attended good schools and received the best education, but many South Africans didn’t have that same privilege. And it wasn’t about bad parenting—it was about not having a choice.   Many parents didn’t have an education themselves (then), or the financial means (now) to send their children to school. And this formed a vicious cycle: without a good education, it’s hard to earn money, and then the kids also can’t afford school fees for their kids, in turn poverty gets inherited. It had to do with the social injustice, which was a problem in the past, but as reforms are taking place, hopefully things are changing. But it’s something that has always bothered me because, without proper education, it’s hard for people to reach their full potential.   I didn’t fully understand this until I was older, but now I see that education isn’t just a passion for me—it’s a core belief. I truly believe that education can change lives.   Even when I was working for corporations in my early career days, I enjoyed lecturing on the side.    Before I started my career in marketing communications, I first studied Corporate Communications, and then went on to do a postgraduate degree in journalism and public relations. Eventually, I also completed my master’s degree in cultural diversity, which is something I’m passionate about.   I’ve always been very aware of diversity. In my work, especially in communications and education, I’ve had to deal with people from many different cultural backgrounds. For example, in all my years lecturing in South Africa, I’ve never had a class with just one group—it was always a mix. So, being mindful of cultural differences is second nature to me. That’s why education and communication are so close to my heart, and I’ve always tried to combine the two in my work.   The university where I worked at the time when I considered my master’s studies, underwent a merger with another university - a technical skills college. The culture of the two schools were very different, which led to significant management issues. Although I joined about five years after the merger, things were still messy. That experience inspired my master’s research, and it’s part of the reason why I wanted to go to the U.S. to learn more about higher education and administration.   So, when I was elected for the Fulbright Hubert H. Humphrey Fellowship, I had the chance to study in the U.S. for a year, in Pennsylvania, where I studied Administration in Higher Education.    I remember the stark contrast between my experiences in South Africa and those in the United States. In South Africa, I had become accustomed to teaching in classrooms filled with students from all walks of life—students who brought with them their own unique perspectives and challenges. But in the United States, the focus seemed to be more on individualism, on how each person could stand out and make their mark. This was both inspiring and, at times, disheartening. I realized that while cultural diversity was celebrated in many places, true understanding and inclusion required more than just tolerance. It required action, empathy, and a willingness to learn from one another.   After my year in the United States, I returned to South Africa, eager to apply what I had learned. The country was still grappling with the legacy of apartheid, and Black Economic Empowerment (BEE) policies had been introduced to address the economic disparities caused by decades of racial segregation. While these policies were necessary and long overdue, they also made it more challenging for people like me—white professionals—to find permanent employment.   Black Economic Empowerment (BEE) has made it difficult for any white South African to find work. For example, many women I know didn’t return to work after having children. Some of them just accepted that, and luckily, their husbands could support them financially. For women who wanted to work and needed jobs to provide for their families, it was a huge challenge.   Regardless, getting back into the workplace is tough for everyone. That’s why I am glad I could choose lecturing as a career of choice—it gave me more flexibility. I could lecture after hours or manage my schedule differently. But not everyone has the qualifications or ability to teach or lecture. For many mothers it is not an option.   And this could only be harder for a mother.   Motherhood: my priorities   Parents have great influence on children, and the mother in a family usually has a stronger bond with the kids, therefore they play a key role in children’s upbringing.   This perception is drawn from my personal experience. When I grew up, our family was very close-knit, and my mother played a big role in who I am today. She has a strong personality - determined and persistent. I see a lot of my actions and beliefs a reflection of hers. She taught me perseverance and creative thinking. My father provided stability, and looked after us financially, but my mother provided us with the driving force of living. She wanted us to always be striving for improvement, stay curious and be a life-long learners. That has all been inherited by me, and thinking about that, I can see some similarities in the pattern how I raise my kids and maintain my family relations. It is never easy being a mother, and there were definitely difficult times, especially when my kids were young. For example, I’ve always struggled to sleep well – I never seem to get a good night’s sleep. It was manageable when I wasn’t working, but once you start working, you realize just how important sleep is. Unfortunately, it’s not something you can control. For me, that was one of the hardest things to manage, but somehow, we learn to cope. My kids are two years apart in age, so they were both toddlers at the same time, which made it even more challenging. I decided not to work until they started school, and even after they started school, I was still looking for half-day work, so I could be home when they finished school each day.   The funny thing is, you still end up doing eight hours of work, just crammed into four hours because you know you need to get home. So being a part-time worker does not mean you work less—you just work faster and take work home to do after hours, even though you’re paid half the salary, you’re still doing all the work.   And when I was teaching night classes, I would still have to do all my day work and get the children sorted out first before I left the house. So, I end up doing two jobs without even thinking about it—extra work, and you don’t really get paid for that job (motherhood). I guess that’s why they invented Mother’s Day! Only one day a year is definitely not enough, though.   Being a mother also means constant emotional involvement. I have one son and one daughter, and unfortunately, both my children struggle with depression. The cause for their depression is genetic - it runs in our family. They didn’t start showing symptoms until adolescence—around 16 or 17, both. Maybe it was there earlier, but that’s typically when young people begin to find things harder. At that age, they need to find themselves and to start working through their own problems. As the parent, no matter how concerned or worried, you must give your kids freedom to find themselves while still being there for them - you can never fully switch off. I don’t know if you’d call it ‘tough love,’ but that’s one approach. It’s draining, though, because no matter where I am or what I do, they’re always my priority, and a mother will always only be as happy as their unhappiest child.   There have been times when I had to drop everything, take leave, and go to support them, which I always do. As I’ve said before, you make up the work later—it never takes priority over your children. In terms of my career, I made sure being a mother didn’t hold me back in the corporate world. I just worked twice as hard. I’d do my work at times when I should’ve been sleeping.   So, I’ve always believed I need to be the strong one. My husband takes care of us financially, but I’m mostly responsible for my children’s mental wellbeing. I have to stay positive, show them that I never give up, and be an example of perseverance. My kids are now in their 20s, and they are much stronger, but still, I want to set a good example for them. When I first found out that we would be relocating to China for a couple of years, I struggled with the idea of coming here without my children, but I realized they are young adults, and I must trust and believe that they will be fine because of what we’ve taught them and the example we’ve set for them. I think a big part of why I’m so determined is to show my children that no matter the challenges, I’ll keep going.   Yes, being a mother is not easy, and I must admit that women do carry a much heavier weight than men in that regard. But I am a very positive person, and I don’t have a ‘victim’ mentality. I have never regretted having children and being a mother, or pursuing a career while having children. It is so rewarding that I am quite content in this role, and even in an afterlife, I would not want to trade roles (with my husband).   I love working! Honestly, I’ve always loved working. I wouldn’t say I’m a workaholic, but I enjoy it so much that it’s never felt like a burden to me. It’s almost like my hobby, which helped me keep a balance. As I mentioned before, finding a job in South Africa is very difficult. So, I feel extremely fortunate to be able to work in a field that I am passionate about. No matter how ambitious I am careerwise, I have never felt it necessary to do it at the expense of my children.  I took breaks with the birth of both my children, and I prioritized my children when they were young, but I also felt I need to work for intellectual stimulation. The one doesn’t have to replace the other. It could both be present if society allows.   In South Africa, women are allowed maternity leave, but should they decide to stop working or take additional time off work, there are no guarantees that you will get your job back when you return after a long leave of absence. And the same goes for the current job market - when you give up a job, you pretty much know that you’re not going to get the same one back again. It’s not like they hold it for you, or you can just jump right back into the workforce. Every time I took a break from working full time, it took me years to find another job, literally. As I already mentioned, I didn’t work until my kids started school, and then I was working half days. Once the children started doing more activities, I went back to full-time work. I sometimes also worked after hours if I needed to attend to mentoring or coaching assignments. For some people, that might be a problem, but for me, it was a pleasure because I was doing what I loved. The work is rewarding enough to make up for the time and effort I put in. In terms of balancing life and work, mothers make the best of difficult situations to find balance. I can tell you; my bosses never knew about my struggles at home—whether it was the fact that I didn’t sleep or the issues my children were facing. To employers, it didn’t matter. You just have to deliver. You have your deliverables, and the outcome must be there, no matter how or when you do it. And I think, speaking for other people too, that’s what we do. Women, in particular, just absorb everything that needs to be done, and we deliver on both fronts. People often don’t realize what you’re sacrificing until they experience it themselves. You make it look easy, but in reality, you compromise—whether it’s sleep or other aspects of your life—to deliver at work while also being there for your children. I think it’s just in our nature. We don’t overthink it; it’s survival. You just do what you have to do.   Despite the difficulty of job hunting, I can barely remember it now because, in the end, I was able to find another path forward. But the experience of job-hunting also made me realize how important it is to educate people beforehand, to help them adapt to the corporate environment and succeed in their job applications. Even something as simple as teaching someone how to put a CV together or prepare for an interview can make a huge difference. For us, it feels normal because we’ve done it before, but for someone who hasn’t been in an interview situation for a while, it’s a game-changer.    A couple of years ago, while still in South Africa, I participated in a leadership program where people from the corporate world, like me, were paired with headmasters (principals) of schools in rural, underprivileged areas. The idea wasn’t to give them money—in fact, you weren’t allowed to help them financially. Instead, you were there to mentor and coach the headmaster or principal. What often happens in these rural schools is that a regular teacher suddenly gets promoted to become the leader, but they have never been taught any leadership skills. And thus, having to run an entire school without any guidance on how to lead.   In this program, you’d work with them for a year, meeting every month to coach them on leadership skills, team building, and other important aspects of running a school effectively. To me, that kind of support is way more valuable than financial aid. Financial donations can only go so far, but empowering someone with skills—that’s something that lasts and makes a real difference. I did that for a year, and it was an incredible experience. I think more is to be done in that aspect.   Before I left South Africa, I was the Chief Marketing Officer (CMO) at a private higher education institution, and I worked there for three and a half years. When my husband got transferred to Beijing, I had to leave my job, which was tough because I loved my job and working.     Adapting to new life in China   The decision of coming to China was not simple or easy for me.   I had never envisioned that I would be here in China, and moreover, coming to China means I had to give up my job, which, given the BEE, would not be waiting for me there when we return to SA, not to mention I am already in my 50s. Lastly, the field of marketing is very competitive, and always evolving, with many younger people having more up-to-date skills.    But I was hopeful that I could find something in China where I could use my skills, experience, and knowledge. And you never know until you try! Also, when I’m old, I would like to look back on all these memories as great experiences. That would be incredible! I never want to be bored. I also want to encourage my children in this way, so that they bravely take on the challenges in life.   I think my friends might think I’m a bit crazy for taking this path at this stage in my life wanting to still work instead of just retiring and socializing. But I have nothing to lose; it’s all about gaining experiences, meeting new people and intellectual stimulation.   And now I can say with certainty that I don’t regret my choice to come to China! Every day is a new experience! I’ve been here for two years, but there hasn’t been a day when I don’t see something new or different. I wouldn’t say it’s easy and I definitely don’t take anything for granted. It’s hard to even pinpoint examples, but every day brings something unexpected. I’m enjoying my time in Beijing, and I’ve traveled quite a bit across China. We’ve visited the pandas and the Terracotta Warriors, and there are just so many amazing things to do here.   Yet I am not ready to give up on working yet. After we moved to Beijing, I applied for many vacancies. I was keen to find a way to use my skills, but it’s tough, especially in marketing—you need to understand the market and, of course, the language. So, what I did was to reach out to international universities, offering to do guest lectures for free. Through that, I got a few opportunities to guest lecture (pro bona) at a couple of local campuses as a subject matter expert. It’s been an amazing chance to experience Chinese culture and connect with local students.   I’ve had the opportunity to meet with students in Hangzhou, Shenzhen, as well as young professionals pursuing their MBAs in Beijing. It’s incredibly rewarding because I get to share my knowledge while also learning from them. Honestly, that’s been the highlight of my time in China so far!   While I was still looking for job opportunities and realizing that I will probably not be able to work in China – for many valid reasons, I decided to enroll in an art therapy diploma course. I thought, if I can’t find work, I can at least study something meaningful, like art therapy, which I could one day apply either in the corporate world to help executives manage stress or with underprivileged children who don’t have access to therapy. Mental wellness is crucial for a quality life, and so many people struggle with their mental health.   I figured that by focusing on studying, I’d take my mind off the job hunt. And I believe something will eventually come through for me. If I can’t find a job, then I’ll use my art therapy skills to work with people in underprivileged communities. I’ve always been someone who sees the glass as half full. If one door doesn’t open, I’ll find another way and give back to the community in the process.   Of course, like anyone, I do get discouraged when I don’t hear back from recruiters or get rejected. It can be demotivating. But I still try to see it as an opportunity to learn something new. In my spare time, I read books. I love historical novels. The last book I read was about women in medicine throughout Chinese history, exploring how they passed down knowledge through generations. It was fascinating. I also love biographies and various academic/non-fiction books on marketing, critical thinking, and leadership.   Moving forward   Although I have not found any formal job yet, I am adjusting myself to enjoy this “leisure time”. When I was working full time, there was definitely no balance for me. During my full-time employment there were hardly any time for my hobbies or interests. Now I can pursue these interests – art, art therapy and reading all the books that I’ve always wanted to read but never had time for.   Work is still important to me. I need purpose in my life. I look for ways to utilize my skills and experience, and to pursue my goals and interests. That is how I ended up connecting with Jane through the U.S. Embassy—she was also part of an exchange program. I felt like maybe this (GMI) was a space where my experience and skillset could make a difference, and where I can collaborate with GMI, under the guidance of their amazing founder Jane, on some projects to help woman cultivate career skills and be better positioned and prepared for the workplace.   Living abroad, like in Beijing was not without its personal challenges. As a mother of two young adults—my daughter studying in the Netherlands and my son working in South Africa—the distance between us is often hard to bear. My husband and I have always been close with our children, and the time apart is difficult for all of us. We make it a priority to visit them as often as we can, and we stay in close contact through calls and messages. It is not the same as being together in person, but we make it work.   Now, I find myself at new crossroads. My children are (young) adults, my husband’s career continues to take us to new places, and I am constantly looking for new ways to contribute to the world around me. Whether through art therapy, guest lectures, or mentoring, I know that my story is far from over. There are still so many more things to explore, so much work to be done, and so many opportunities to make a difference.   As I look to the future, I am filled with hope. My journey has been anything but linear, but that’s what makes it so exciting. Each new chapter brings with it new challenges and new possibilities, and I am ready to embrace them all.

AI generated photo to resonate with Monica's Chinese Name   Story Told by Monica Interviewed by Margaret Nie & Jane English translated by Qiran Zhang / English Proofread by Liqing Pan   I am a very simple person. Now 37, I was often labeled by my manager as naive and innocent. Actually, I suppose I am not that innocent after all, but spiky. In these thirty-some years of life, I feel both lucky and unfortunate, which probably is just like everyone else.   I have a spiky personality and have been fearless from an early age. My family often said I was as stubborn as a donkey. I used to run away from home, as there were too many things I couldn’t stand. I just live a life full of edges and corners. One of my teachers particularly admired me, and he told me that "You must hold on to your individuality and never simply follow the crowd." However, more voices around would tell me that this prickly nature would only get me into troubles. They would warn me against being spiky and never like other girls, who would talk softly, compromise easily, and act obediently.   I was given a Chinese name that embodies resilience and toughness, and I do things like a man, which means I don’t give up easily and always have high standards for myself. Speaking of which, I lived the first half of my life relatively smooth.   Although I was not gifted at studying, I got admitted to a prestigious 211 university because I learned art. The ‘turning point’ in my life probably is year 2006. That year I was a junior in college, when my father passed away unexpectedly. After handling his funeral, I returned to the college and back to my studies in Beijing.   At that time, I was not yet aware of the striking impact his death would have on me.   My father left me on November 29, 2006. This November 29th will mark the 16th years since then. It still deeply hurts whenever I think of him, for the drastic change of our life after his departure, living like a footless bird, endlessly drifting from one place to another, and never rest...     My Father in My Memories   My dad, according to my memory, wasn’t the kind of man you would call “great”, and would not be called meticulous either. But since he passed away, most of what I could remember were his former kindness, although also a few not-so-good moments, due to his bad-temper.   One childhood memory stands out. One evening, he came home after drinking a lot of alcohol and found me playing with a friend. He asked my friend, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" She replied immediately with confidence, "I want to be a doctor." Then he turned to me, "And you?" I said, "I don’t know."   We were munching on a snack called Halihali, and upon hearing my uncertain response, he snatched the snack from my hand in a sudden burst of anger and throw it to the top of our woody cabinet. I had such a clear memory of that day. My friend was let go, and my dad took off my pants and gave me a spanking – I didn’t even know why I got beaten. After that, he probably sobered up, and regretted, so he apologized to me and handed me two Yuan to make up for what he had just done. That money was enough to buy a treasure trove of treats in those days. I was dazed, and unable to make sense of all that.   My father was not a frequent drinker. I’m not sure what troubled him that day, but it was the first time I got beaten. As I grew older, I wondered for years why he did that – I couldn’t stop thinking. As I become a mother myself, I find myself looking back with a new perspective, and with that I try to grasp what once eluded me. Now I believe that he must have had harbored great hopes for me to become a successful person, or at the very least, a person of value, but my response probably disappointed him, making him ashamed for my lack of ambition.   But there are also moments he treated me well. When I was in high school, I had to leave home at a bit over 5 am to take a bus to have classes, and the bus station is 10 minutes- walk distance from home. He rode his bike to take me to the bus station literally Every Day - from summer to winter, then from winter to summer, regardless of weather. Till today, I still can see that moment in the flashbacks of memory, of him riding that bike as I look from behind him, from the backseat. Another memory etched in mind is of him waiting for me in a long and dimly lit alley after my evening classes, hands clasping behind his back, holding a teacup. He was always waiting for me there to walk home with me, especially in the winter. I was a bit rebellious then, and I said to him, “Dad you don’t have to wait for me! I am familiar with the place, and I can go back very soon.” Then he replied:” If I don’t see you back, I would always wait for you here.”   He ran a small business, and the burden of supporting our family is heavy on him, especially as he was an overly nice person. I remember on one particular New Year’s Eve, after he got the payment for his project with the government, he handed out every last penny to his workers, forgetting that our family is almost out of money for the new year. I complained and said  “Why do you leave us in such a miserable state, you could have kept the money but you gave them all away!” I muttered, feeling deprived of the usual treats and new clothes that marked the holiday.“Do you have any idea how tough life is for folks in Zhangjiakou?” he asked“They only  have meal of plain potatoes, while we, at least, can afford steamed buns.” Then, as if that wasn’t enough, he added quietly, “They workers need money more badly than us. They can only wear clothes with patches.”   He was too kind to be a good businessman. Because he was not ruthless enough, his business was never a success.     My Father's Sudden Death   Years before he passed, I often saw his room with lights on till two or three in the morning. As I quietly pushed open the door, I found him huddled over his desk, meticulously going through a stack of invoices, calculating something over and over. He was always like that, working late, often pushing himself.   The day he died started off like any other. He was with his business partner, discussing the usual things, and had a little bit of wine over lunch. On his way back home, he began to feel sick. My mother was out at the market stall, as usual. By the time she returned, he was seen lying on his cot, which upset her, since she had to be out to make a living because of his incompetency in supporting the family. Frustrated, she glanced at him, thinking he was just sleeping off the alcohol.   She called his name, but he didn’t respond. She noticed some vomit in the toilet and the lingering scent of heart medication in the air. She tried to wake him again, but by then, he had already slipped away.   When I got the news that something happened to my family, I rushed home, not knowing what exactly had happened. I called the boy who later became my boyfriend, and he picked me up from the train station. The fog that day was thick, almost surreal, as if the world itself was clouded in mystery. At first, I thought it was my mom who had an accident, since her health condition was always not good.   The boy didn’t say much until we almost reached home, he turned to me and said, "There’s something wrong with uncle... your dad."   I paused in a shock. "What do you mean? Is he in the hospital?"   He hesitated, "It’s worse than that."   A chill ran through me. "What's that? He is in the ICU or what?"   He looked down, unable to meet my eyes. "Worse than that. Your dad passed away."   I dropped my school bag right there and ran as fast as I could, my heart pounding in my chest.   When I got home, I found him lying there alone. In our Hui ethnic tradition, we keep the body at home, not in a hospital or a funeral parlor. It was November, and the cold had already settled in. But in the room where my father’s body was kept, the heating had been turned off. The furniture was moved out, and he lay there on a wooden board, supported by two legs underneath, covered by a simple white cloth. I couldn’t bring myself to lift that cloth and look.   My thoughts flashed back to the last time I spoke to him before leaving for school, when he promised me to buy me a Motorola V80 cellphone. The first thing that came out of my mouth when I saw him was, "Dad, you promised to buy me that phone... haven’t you bought it yet?"   But he lay there, still and silent, and I knew I would never have his answer.     Returning to Beijing to Finish My Studies   After my father’s funeral, I returned to Beijing for school. Strangely, I didn’t feel much at the time.   I am a huge fan of Leslie Cheung, and when he passed away in 2003, I was utterly heartbroken. I even wrote letters to him, which were tied to balloons and released, hoping they’d somehow reach him in the sky.   On the day of Leslie Cheung's funeral, I was desperate to watch the live broadcast on Phoenix TV. I made up an excuse at school, claiming I had left a pot of water boiling at home. I rode home on my bike in a rush, and unlike usual, I left it outside the room instead of locking it in the room that day, which caused it to get stolen.   My mother would often make joke at me about this, saying that the funeral cost me a bike. I have a deep memory that my dad asked me then "if I am gone, would you also be like this?" And the fact is, when my dad passed away, the pain didn’t hit me the same way it did when Gege died (Our fans like to call Leslie Cheung Gege). Probably the loss of Gege only brought me nostalgia, while losing my dad became a lingering ache, a wound that never really heals—a pain that stays with me for a lifetime...     Leaving Beijing and Returning Home   I often felt like a speck of dust drifting in the air, never truly finding a place to settle. My father’s death didn’t greatly impact my physical life, but with my mind it left a deep sense of instability, which worn me out. Maybe it was this very situation that eventually forged my resilience.   Things went on well for both my study and career. In 2008, I had the privilege of participating the Olympic torch relay all the way across China for three months, leading the cheerleading team of the organizing committee. After the opening ceremony is over, I returned home. I originally didn’t plan to go back to hometown after graduation, since I had already secured the job as a teacher in a primary school in Haidian District, Beijing. But what happened at home drove me make the decision of returning to hometown. My younger brother was only 14 when our father passed away, and I am the eldest daughter, so I had to take more responsibility than before.   At graduation, I packed up everything by myself and sent them home. While my classmates celebrated their triumphant graduation surrounded by family, I was alone and returned home silently taking a free ride from a fellow student. I used to hold a grudge against my mother for not attending my graduation ceremony, but now I understand—she had to work to earn the money, which although meager, is all that she could make to support the family.     I Had a Quick Marriage   Once I’m back, my mother urged me into marriage, driven by traditional values that favor males over females. My mother was born in a low-class worker’s family, and the traditional value that girls should marry early resonated with her, especially so after the death of my father, which made the family difficult to support anyone other than my younger brother. After numerous failed matchmaking attempts, I eventually made match with someone through family connections. My mother had always hoped I would marry into a family with better financial standing, and this man seemed to fit the criteria.   On the day of our blind date, I heard a message on the radio that said, “You should only marry someone you truly want to spend your life with.” The words struck a chord deep within me. Still, I chose to marry him—not out of love, but because he checked off most boxes I thought were important.   I had a flash marriage. One month after meeting each other for the first time, we got our marriage certificate, and the wedding ceremony was held only three months after we met. I barely knew anything about his family. He treated me kindly, but there was a big issue with his family, the fraught relationship between him and his parents, which I only found out later. When we just got married, he would frequently curse his mother by name, and I tried to stop that, naïvely believing I could help mend their bond somehow.   Now, over a decade into our marriage, his relationship with his parents remains as strained as ever. No one, not even I, could fix it. He carries a deep resentment towards them, convinced that they are dragging him down. I didn’t fully grasp the impact of this tension until we had a child, eight years after our marriage. Before that, I had very limited interactions with my parents-in-law, mostly only in occasions of family dinner on New Year’s Eves. Even after our child was born, I once thought I could manage without their involvement by hiring a nanny.     First Job After Graduation   After graduating, my first job was as a teacher at the local media college, a position I held for 12 years. I quit that job the year before last. I started to think quitting because every day felt like a rerun of the one before. I could predict exactly what the next few years would be —each day a mirror image of the past. I had become so skilled in teaching that I no longer needed to prepare for classes; I knew the routine by heart.   Even when I was in college, I knew I wouldn’t want to have a plain and dull life, since I only have one life to live. And at that time, an opportunity came to knock at my door—to join a foreign language education group as the course director for the art department of student elective classes—I took it. For about a year, I immersed myself in that new challenge, but then, life threw me a curveball: I found out I was pregnant, and not just with one child, but twins. This reason, together with several others, led to a pause of my job.   During my pregnancy, I didn’t work in the office anymore, but I kept myself busy by tutoring art students, helping them get into their dream colleges. It was a smooth period in my life, with everyone in the family pitching in. I’ve always been independent, so even when I got married or became pregnant, I didn’t expect any special treatment. I never saw myself as someone who needed to be catered to.   I never had the thought that I should be given privilege for pregnancy, but I surely miss that time, because it was 2019, and it was before pandemic.     Giving Birth During a Pandemic   After I’m pregnant and before the baby was born, I didn’t worry much about my family, for instance my husband. He was busy running his company, and I rarely involved myself in his business affairs. He’s always been a strong-willed person, and I mention him now because of his influence on me later on--very negative influence.   My husband was of same age as me, only one month older. The pandemic took a toll on everyone’s mental state, and our family was no exception. I gave birth to the twins on January 10, 2020, just 5 days before the outbreak in our hometown. The situation in Wuhan was growing dire, but we were still largely unaware of just how serious things were.   As I held my two newborns, I posted on social media: "I’m going to make peace with the world!" Before they came into my life, I was headstrong and fiercely independent. But with my children’s arrival, I became willing to compromise in ways I never imagined, accepting things that I never would have tolerated.   The pandemic brought tremendous financial hardship to our family, and my husband was under immense stress. The past three years have been a nightmare that I can hardly bear to remember. There were moments when his frustration turned violent—he would take a knife and threaten me, the children, even my mother. He once said he would kill the baby, and even took actions, which freaked me out. I didn’t know how to deal with the world anymore. We fought fiercely when he directed all his anger and resentment to our baby, and our relationship is at the edge of the cliff.   I thought I would be given care and support after giving birth to the babies, but rather, I experienced the most difficult time of my life. I would wake up every day in tears, overwhelmed by despair. The thought of ending my life together with my babies often came to my mind in those days, as I assumed no one else would ever take care of them if I’m gone. The thought even went concrete to include details such as where and how – jumping from a certain building with one child on my back and the other in a carrier in the front. But fortunately I eventually gave up those thoughts.     Life's Darkest Hours   When my babies were six months old, our home had become unsuitable to live any longer. I told my husband, “I’m taking the babies and leaving.” Since my auntie still got an empty place, I moved there with a nanny. During that time, my husband rarely visited; he just paid for the nanny.   I almost felt I was the most miserable person in the world, until I met two incredibly nice nannies, who gave me enormous encouragement and were like my family. They weren't just tending to my child—they were my biggest emotional support. They filled the gap left by my mother, who was on completely different wavelengths with me and could not communicate well with me.   When the twins were two and a half years old, my husband told me he could no longer afford the nannies, and that‘s when my parents-in-law started to took over caring for the children.   Throughout this time, I kept a diary. In this thick diary, the words “almost suicide” appeared in a daily frequency. But amid the darkness, a new perspective started to grow insides me. I often told my friends and the nannies, “I have a very good friend who gives me advice on doing this and that.” And my nannies would echo “She is right! You must cherish this friend. She’s guiding you to the right path.”   When I finally had to say goodbye to my nanny, I say to her, "I need to tell you something." She asked, "What is it?" I said, "Actually, I never had this friend."   I saw the fine hairs on her arms erects on the backlight of the sunshine. This was how I survived the most depressed time of my life. I told a friend who was a psychiatrist about the imaginary friend thing and asked, "Do you think I’m schizophrenic?"   He replied, "Technically, yes. But it was good for you—it was your mind trying to save you from despair."     Finding My Way Out   When my children were six months old, I went back to work. My nanny, wise as ever, urged me on that, “You’ve got to get out. You can’t keep carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. How’s your mom? How your brother lives and how your mom lives is not your business. You can’t live for them. You need to live for yourself and your kids.”   So, I took her advice to heart. Later I found a job related to performance art, and I worked there till September of this year. Then I had a new job opportunity, introduced by some very nice and elite people, filled with creativity and energy, and I joined the insurance company and work there till today. I’m genuinely happy every day, because I’m surrounded by people who radiate positivity, helping me find my direction and purpose.   I’ve stopped wasting my energy on pointless worries. It’s like a ray of sunshine finally broke through the clouds of my life. I no longer struggle to find out what kind of person my husband really is. The three years since I had my babies have completely transformed me. I’ve learned not to look to anyone else for validation, not to rely on anyone but myself. The only person I truly trust now is me.   Recently, I initiated a program of Swing Musical, where we indulge in the joy of swing dancing. Through this activity, I’ve met so many like-minded friends, and I’ve come to realize that sometimes, the people who at first are total strangers could also end up being providing huge support. As a Muslim, my faith is in Allah, and I believe He knew my family couldn’t be my anchor, so He surrounded me with friends who could. People like Sister Yuan, who introduced me to GMI—I feel truly blessed.   My children are turning three now, growing up so quickly, and they’re incredibly understanding and well-behaved. Life doesn’t feel so daunting anymore. When I look back at everything I’ve been through, I’m actually grateful for those three tough years. They forced me to grow in ways I never imagined.     The Day My Family Unraveled   After my dad passed away, our family was never the same, but at least I still had a place to call home. But then my brother, who used to be a good kid, started to drift. I attributed that to a great part to my mom’s way of education but have to admit my dad also played a part in it. He spoiled my brother, and even offering him cigarettes when smoking sometimes. By the time my brother was 14, he already learned to smoke.   After Dad’s death, my brother would often say, “Mom, I’m going downstairs for a bit.” When my mom asked “what for”, he’d answer, “Tell you what, I’m going down to smoke.” I told my mom she should not have let him but should instead taking the death of our dad as a lesson and talk him into focusing on forming good habits as a young and prospective pal. But instead, she only said to him, “Don’t go outside and let the neighbors then, just smoke at home. ”   After I got married and moved out, my brother’s behavior worsened. He started staying out all night, and before long, he got into drugs. It was also me who found he was using meth, because I noticed how erratic and irritable he’d become. Before, when I talk to him and he got impatient he would say, “Sister, I know,”  but then he was yelling, “Shut up! Don’t you talk to me like that!” I felt strange and wondered what has changed him, so I searched his room and found his drugs. These drugs surely made him broke and owing a lot of money. My mom sold our family’s old house, our only home, with the original plan to buy a new one near my home, where the environment is good, and price is also good. But before I knew it, she gave half the money to my brother to pay off the debts. My mom rented a small house instead of buying, which didn’t bother me too much at first—after all, as long as we were together and I still get a place to go to, I still have a home.   But until I got pregnant, my mom always talked about her finding a new partner, something I couldn’t understand. I often voiced my frustration directly to her, and she would get defensive, saying, “I’m doing this for the family, for you and your brother. It’s hard to support everything on my own…”   Eventually, my mom remarried. She met someone before I got pregnant, and after they got married, she moved into his place and ended the lease of the other house. That was the moment I realized I no longer had a home to go back to. The feeling of being a floating puffball that had begun with my dad’s death intensified. My mom’s remarriage made it clear—I had nowhere to go. If something happened between I and my husband, there wouldn’t even be a place for me to retreat to.   I don’t harbor resentment toward them—my mom or my brother. I just didn’t know how to face them for a while. My brother, despite everything, had always been good to me. I remember one time we had meal together, and he drank a bit, he turned to me and said, “Sis, you know what? If not because of the law and order thing, my brother-in-law would have been taken care of, by me.” He was talking about my husband, who had been almost entirely absent in childcare for the three years after the babies were born. My brother saw it, and he had a lot of sympathy for me.   I always tried to keep him grounded, telling him, “Don’t ever do anything rash. The one who deals the first blow loses out.” Things have not reached that point, but I knew if push came to shove, my brother would definitely stand up for me.   Now, my brother has been clean and out of drugs for a long time, also working normally, which I have great admiration for.     Living in the Moment   Sometimes, separation is better than staying together and torturing each other. My husband and I haven’t divorced, and neither of us has brought it up. He focuses on his business, and we live our own lives without interfering each other.   It’s been three years since the pandemic, and three years since my twin sons were born. When I married my husband, part of the appeal was that he didn’t smoke or drink. But somewhere during these three years, he picked up smoking. My friends tried to console me it’s probably his way of coping with stress, and I’ve tried to understand. After all, it’s not like he has done anything worse.   This current state of separation is the best thing for us. He usually stays at his parents' house, and when we do see each other, it almost always ends up with quarrels. We’re both so on edge that we can’t get through a conversation without it turning into a fight. That kind of tension isn’t good for the kids, so it’s better for me to live on my own. Even the kids don’t like going to their grandparents’ place because they sense the constant conflict.   Right now, all I can do is pull myself out of the shadows. I’ve become the manager of the first local swing music club, and it’s been a lifeline. Combining swing dancing with drama and musicals, the club is finally taking shape. Working with people who share my passion has brought new joy and inspiration into my life.   I’m also working as a life insurance financial planner. My team leader is a fantastic person who told me something that really stuck with me. He said, “You’ve got an aloof personality, and that might not be the easiest fit for this industry, but please don’t change yourself. You’ll attract people who are on the same wavelength as you, and you just need to make friends with them. Don’t try to change yourself just to fit in.” That advice resonated with me. I am never willing to change my edges and corners, I even use this lyric from my brother’s song as my social media signature: “I am me, a firework of a different color.”   Motherhood has changed me in so many ways. I’ve always had spiky personality, but having kids somewhat altered it. I’m made more empathetic, more able to put myself in others’ shoes. I’ve become more understanding, more open-hearted. Where I used to see things only from my perspective, I can now approach life with a sense of calm and tolerance that I never had before. My children have made my heart softer, and I’m grateful for that.   These past three years have been incredibly challenging, but I’ve made it through.   What storm could possibly shatter me in the future?