Home

  • When Love Felt Like a Performance (And I Finally Walked Off Stage)

    When Love Felt Like a Performance (And I Finally Walked Off Stage)

    When I was 25, I believed that love had to be earned and happiness was hard work.
    If you wanted to be loved by a “good man,” you had to be the hottest girl in the room, make a six-figure income, cook every cuisine, and master every technique in bed.

    And honestly? I believed I was close.
    Okay—maybe I only knew how to cook a few Asian dishes, but I was trying.

    And then I was cheated on.
    More than once.

    It shattered my ego.
    I started questioning my values, my identity, my worth.
    I thought I had done everything “right”—so why wasn’t I enough?

    Thankfully, I met a wonderful man who later became my husband.
    We were soulmates. We understood each other without words—
    Until we had children.

    Then came the exhaustion.
    The sleep-deprivation.
    And the slow unraveling.

    He still wanted us to be affectionate and intimate like when we were dating.
    And it wasn’t just him—there were expectations from my in-laws too.
    Because when you marry a man, you don’t just marry him.
    You marry his entire family.

    Suddenly, I was expected to be a good wife, a good mother, a good daughter-in-law, and a good business owner.
    And for a while, I tried.
    I ran around trying to meet everyone’s expectations because I thought it was a woman’s job to keep everyone happy.

    Don’t get me wrong—I love taking care of people.
    But only when it comes from the heart.
    When I gave from love, it filled me.
    But when it became an expectation, it drained me.
    And eventually, I broke.

    I had panic attacks.
    My mind ran in loops—
    What should I do? What’s the right thing?
    What do I feel? What am I allowed to feel?

    I was raised to believe that I could only be loved if I was perfect.
    I remember my aunt saying she stopped talking about me to her coworkers because I became a freelancer instead of a government worker.
    My mom only called if I kept sending money home each month.

    So I asked myself:
    Why do I deserve love if I don’t bring value to anyone?
    If I stop giving, will I stop receiving love?
    If I stop smiling, if I show my sadness—will anyone stay?

    The idea of being unavailable terrifies me.
    Because I fear it means losing connection.

    So I tried harder.
    I gave more.
    Until one day, I collapsed.

    I cried hard.
    I shut the world out.
    And during the holiday—when everyone else was gathering together—I stayed home alone, in bed, quietly.

    And for the first time, I decided:
    I will not perform.
    Not today.

    I needed a moment with myself.
    To stop betraying the quiet voice inside me that had been whispering:

    “Slow down. I can’t catch up.”

    I had ignored that voice for so long.
    I thought self-love was giving yourself the best things in life—
    Nice clothes, expensive skincare, good food, travel, education.
    But now I see:

    Self-love is loving yourself right now,
    when you feel broken, messy, ugly, useless.
    When you’re not pleasing anyone.
    When you’ve got nothing to offer.

    If I can love my husband and children no matter who they become,
    then I have to love myself the same way.

    No fixing.
    No pretending.
    No rushing to “get back to normal.”

    Just be.

    Even when the world says I don’t deserve love unless I burn myself up for others—
    I will stay by my own side.
    I will not abandon myself to be who others want me to be.

    I will give myself love, freely and abundantly.

    Because that’s what real love is.
    Free.
    It is not earned through sacrifice.
    It is not deserved through usefulness.

    I deserve love
    even when I give nothing to anyone.

    , , , , , , , ,

  • Did You Ever Stop and Ask Yourself—Why Am I Doing This?

    Did You Ever Stop and Ask Yourself—Why Am I Doing This?

    Did you ever think something was impossible…
    until one day, you paused and thought: “But what if it’s not?”

    Maybe you once said, “I’ll never move countries just for love.”
    And then… you did.
    Maybe not out of logic. But out of feeling.
    And that feeling opened a new chapter.

    I remember when I told my Hebrew classmate that maybe she shouldn’t rush into moving to France with her new boyfriend—
    that maybe it wasn’t “rational.”
    She looked at me and said, “You’re saying that? Didn’t you move from Vietnam to Israel for love?”
    And I laughed. Because yes.
    I did.

    That’s when I realized:
    We all make choices we never imagined we’d make.
    But the real question is—do we know why we made them?

    Sometimes I catch myself in the middle of a busy day,
    wondering:

    • Why do I live here?
    • Why did I choose this partner, this work, this life?
    • Did I choose them? Or did they just… happen to me?

    And then I ask:
    Am I happy with these choices?
    Maybe not happy, but… content?

    When everyone around me started pressuring me and my husband to have a third child,
    I had to stop and ask:

    “Do I want another child? Or do I just think I should because everyone here has three?”

    Back in Vietnam, two children is normal.
    But here in Israel, three is the default—even for families that aren’t very religious.

    But…
    Do I want to go through postpartum depression again?
    Sleepless nights, clogged ducts, broken nerves?

    I couldn’t find a real yes.
    I already have two beautiful children.
    And I have ideas. For my life. My own life.
    I need time, energy, a body that still belongs to me.

    And yet, there was that little voice:

    “But everyone else here has three…”

    That’s when I realized:
    So many of my choices had been automatic.
    Not conscious.
    Not questioned.
    Just… copied.

    I once joined a work meeting just one week after giving birth.
    The HR manager asked, “Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve rescheduled.”
    And I said, “Never mind. I can handle it. I’m planning to come back to work soon anyway.”

    She looked at me and asked:
    “But why do you work so hard?”

    And I didn’t know what to say.
    Now, I do.

    Because I was raised to never stop.
    Because rest felt like failure.
    Because I thought being “valuable” meant being busy.
    Because the women in my country lived through war and poverty and scarcity—and I inherited that fear like a birthmark.

    It wasn’t until I burned out and finally rested that I could see it all clearly:
    That I wasn’t weak.
    I was just… following an invisible program.

    And now, I try to ask myself:

    “Why am I doing this?”

    Even small things.
    Like if I feel guilty for buying good shoes for my knee pain.
    I pause and ask:
    “Do I really need to feel this guilt? Or is it just a habit I inherited?”

    If my finances are fine, then the guilt isn’t rational.
    It’s psychological.
    And I have to consciously tell myself:

    “It’s okay. I’m allowed to have comfort. I’m allowed to choose what supports me.”

    So here’s the invitation:

    If something doesn’t feel right—
    stop. Ask.
    Don’t just keep going.

    Maybe your discomfort is not a flaw.
    Maybe it’s a clue.

    To your old patterns.
    To your invisible fears.
    To a choice you didn’t know you had.

    And maybe, just maybe—
    you’ll find that you’re allowed to choose again.
    you’ll find that you’re allowed to choose again.

    , , , , , , ,

  • Dear Exhausted Mom: You’re Doing Enough

    Dear Exhausted Mom: You’re Doing Enough

    Once, I saw a video of a so-called psychologist who said she felt like slapping some parents when she saw them let their kids use tablets or phones at restaurants.
    I couldn’t help but think: What am I supposed to do if I have small kids and just want to feel like a human being again? To sit at a restaurant, enjoy a nice meal and a peaceful atmosphere instead of being surrounded by a messy house and the smell of pee or spilled baby milk?

    Any parent knows restaurants can feel like a waste of money—because at any moment, your child might throw a tantrum simply because you peeled a banana the “wrong” way.

    So what am I supposed to do to stay sane, without a phone?

    Some people say, “Our mothers raised kids without phones, so we can too.”
    But when my mom gave birth to me, my brother, and my sister, she wasn’t alone. She had her sisters, cousins, parents, uncles, aunts—an entire village living nearby. People brought her food, took the kids to their house, or just came over to sit and talk while keeping an eye on us.

    And my mom didn’t work. My father provided financially, and life was simple. My grandparents had everything they needed in their backyard: chickens, cows, pigs, and a whole garden full of vegetables and fruit trees.

    But now, things have changed.

    We survive as nuclear families. Grandmothers don’t think like their mothers did. Everyone wants to live their own life—travel, explore the world, do all the things they never had the chance to do before. I think that’s beautiful.
    But it also means our generation is struggling—quietly—while raising children mostly on our own.

    I now have to work like a single woman, cook healthy meals every day, take the kids to after-school activities, be emotionally present, and constantly see social media posts reminding me of all the other “super moms” who seem to do it all and still look amazing.

    One day, after 8 exhausting hours of work, I took my kids to an indoor playground. I sat in a corner with my back against the wall and whispered in my head:
    “Thank you, government, for building this place. My kids can play, and I can sit down for just a few minutes and recharge.”

    Some days, I manage to take them to the playground. But on rainy winter days, when everything is wet and cold, we go straight home. I turn on a cartoon so I can rest for 30 minutes, cook dinner, give them a bath, clean up, and get them to bed.

    And yes—on those days, I tell myself, “I’m not the best mom today.”
    But I’d rather let them watch some creative kids’ content than force myself to “be present” while my patience is gone and risk yelling at them—saying things I’ll regret.

    I live near an Orthodox Jewish neighborhood. Every time I see a woman walking down the street followed by six or seven kids of her own, I’m amazed.
    But then I remember—they have each other. They live in close-knit communities. The older siblings help care for the younger ones. They don’t have smartphones, not because of discipline, but because of deep religious values.
    But they do have a village.

    So to all the moms out there:
    You’re doing a great job.
    You made the brave decision to bring a new human into this world, and you’re doing the best you can while navigating life—often alone.
    Yes, many of us are married, but let’s be honest… it still feels like being a single mom in the marriage sometimes.

    Don’t feel guilty if you give your child a phone just so you can breathe.
    You’re not lazy. You’re not doing it wrong. You’re human.

    Don’t let the “perfect moms” on Instagram make you feel less than.

    And at the end of the day, when your child hugs you and whispers, “I love you, Mom,”
    take a moment to hug yourself, too.

    You’re doing enough.
    And you’re doing beautifully.

    , , , , , , ,

  • Why I Stopped Chasing Happiness (and What I Found Instead)

    Why I Stopped Chasing Happiness (and What I Found Instead)

    I used to look for a shortcut in life.
    I thought I was smart enough to figure out how to live this life happily all the time. I read dozens of self-help books—they were great, but something still felt missing. Then I listened to hundreds of YouTube videos on spiritual teachings and the wisdom of ancient cultures, trying to find what people had learned from life. They were deep and exciting, but still, they didn’t answer my biggest question:
    How can I be happy all the time, no matter what happens?

    I tried meditation. Every morning, I would wake up and sit for 10 minutes just to observe my thoughts. It helped calm the noise in my head that started the moment I opened my eyes. But still, something felt unresolved.

    Because honestly, I couldn’t even remember the last time I felt truly happy.
    Maybe when I looked at old pictures—my smile when I was a child, when I got accepted into university, when I graduated, got married, or welcomed my children into the world. Those were brief moments of “happiness.”
    But what about the rest of my 35 years on this earth?
    How did I feel all that time?
    Did I feel empty? Confused? Anxious? Depressed?
    I just wanted to know: How do I feel happy ALL THE TIME?

    Then one day, I came across a video about the ventral striatum—the part of our brain that lights up when we experience excitement and curiosity. It explained that our brain is wired to seek more and more novelty to feel alive.

    Wait.
    If that’s how we’re wired, then what about what Buddha said? That the way out of suffering is to let go of desire. But if my brain needs newness to feel alive, how can I let go of wanting more?
    If I try to fight my brain, isn’t that already a form of suffering—a desire to escape myself?

    Then I had a realization:
    Maybe it’s not possible to be happy all the time. Maybe we’re designed to move through cycles—joy, confusion, boredom, curiosity. We get excited when we discover something new, until we master it. Then comes the emptiness, the longing for the next thing.

    It’s kind of like those men who cheat on their wives and say, “I found my true love. She makes me feel alive.” Really? Didn’t your wife make you feel that way when you took her on dates, when you saw her name pop up on your phone, when you were nervous about proposing to her? And now, just because you think you already know everything about her, you’re bored—and chasing a new heartbeat again?

    So I realized: It is what it is.
    Life has seasons—ups and downs, sunshine and rain. And like Buddha said, the only way to truly live is to live in the moment. Life will be joyful when it is. Miserable when it is. Confusing when it is. Trying to keep our mood high all the time is exhausting—just like trying to keep our brain focused every second is impossible. There will be moments of dullness, boredom, confusion, even depression. But if we accept them as part of life, we’ll eventually come out of them—renewed, refreshed, full of new energy and new ideas. And then a new adventure begins… until the dullness returns again. And that’s okay too.

    So if you’re lying in bed, feeling anxious about the future, asking yourself: “What’s next?” — know that it’s part of life too. As I approach 36, I’ve gone through that cycle more times than I can count. But I’m still here. Still going. Still learning.

    And that reassures me: as long as I keep going, keep trying new things without worrying if they’ll be “serious” or what people will say, I’ll be just fine.

    And maybe… that’s the answer to my question: not how to be happy all the time, but how to keep dancing through all of life’s rhythms, without needing to always feel good to keep going.

    , , , ,

  • I wondered why I cannot stick with the same job and now I know the reason

    I wondered why I cannot stick with the same job and now I know the reason

    I used to wonder all the time: “What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I stick with the same job like other people?”
    I watched friends stay in the same job from the moment they graduated until now. Meanwhile, I’ve changed jobs more times than I can count. The only times I stayed with something for years were when I had my own business.

    I’ve always loved solving problems—logistics, marketing, product design. But the traditional office? Wearing uniforms, making small talk with colleagues and bosses? It never felt right. My mind tends to wander, to imagine, to create—not follow routine.

    Back in Vietnam, I ran a jewelry business. Every time I got a list of new designs from suppliers, I felt a spark. I would imagine the woman who might wear each piece: how she’d look, where she’d go, how stunning and unique she’d feel. That thrill kept me going for years.

    Then I moved to Israel and started a nail business. In the beginning, I was in love with it. Even while caring for a small child, I used every spare moment to explore new nail art and techniques. My first set was a disaster—but instead of giving up, I got curious. I watched dozens of YouTube tutorials and kept practicing until even my husband was shocked at how professional my nails looked. Every new trend lit up my creativity, and I couldn’t wait to share them with customers.

    But slowly, the work shifted. Most clients wanted simple, fast, no-frill nails. Don’t get me wrong—those sets paid the bills. But I lost the spark. I told myself I couldn’t just change jobs again. I was 35 now. It was time to be “stable,” right?

    So I kept going. I worked efficiently. Customers were happy—they got beautiful, long-lasting nails in under an hour. But I wasn’t happy.

    Then I signed up for an esthetician course—just hoping it might reignite something. And it did.
    While others stressed over the complexity of skincare, cosmetics, and biology, I was thrilled. I couldn’t wait to dive deeper every day. Thanks to technology, I could explore beyond the textbook, follow my curiosity, and connect the dots myself.

    Then today, I learned about something called the ventral striatum—a part of the brain’s reward system that lights up when we’re driven by curiosity and discovery. Suddenly, everything made sense. I feel alive when I’m learning something new. But when I’m forced to repeat the same task over and over like a machine, I feel drained.

    So maybe that old saying is true: “Do what you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life.”
    Not because you’re not working—but because your brain, your hormones, your whole being is aligned with what you’re doing. And that feels good.

    And now I realize—nothing was ever wrong with me. I’m just wired to follow what excites me.
    I’m not driven by money, social status, or stability.
    I’m driven by curiosity—and that’s enough.

    , , , ,

  • Why I left the hustle behind (even though I loved it)

    Why I left the hustle behind (even though I loved it)

    One day, while I was doing nails for a regular customer, she asked—again—why I didn’t take clients in the evenings. I smiled and kept working. I was used to her complaints about my working hours. But this time, instead of explaining, I simply asked:
    “Why should I work in the evening?”
    She replied, “Because most people work during the day and only have time after work.”
    “So?” I asked.
    She continued, “Because you want more customers.”
    “And why is that?”
    “Because you need money,” she said, now clearly irritated.
    “Really?” I asked again, “Why do I need more money?”
    She went quiet. I think she got tired of my questions.

    The truth is—I’ve always been a “why” person. Since I was a child. But somewhere along the way, I stopped asking. I started living the way I thought I was supposed to: finish school, go to university, get a job. I followed the path everyone else was on, without really knowing why.

    What was different for me, though, was that I could never keep a job for more than two months. Not because I didn’t work hard—I did—but because I didn’t know how to “belong” in the system. I didn’t know how to build relationships with coworkers or play office politics. Eventually, I was pushed to build something of my own—and that’s when I discovered entrepreneurship was the right path for me.

    But I didn’t find that truth easily. For years, I thought something was wrong with me. I read endless self-help books trying to fix myself so I could fit into the system. I felt like a failure because I couldn’t stay at a job like my friends did.

    It took me a long time to understand: I wanted to work—I was even a workaholic. But I didn’t want to work for a title or a position. I wanted to create something meaningful. I wanted to know something so deeply that I could confidently share it with others when they asked.

    When I opened my nail salon here, it was the same. I loved the art of it. I loved the beauty, the precision. And my clients could feel that—because when I work, I give it my full attention. The result was always perfect, just like the pictures on Instagram.

    But once I became a mom of two, I chose to work only during school hours. I used to work all day, every day—building my portfolio, proving myself. But eventually, I had to make space for my children, my husband, and my health.

    Even then, I reached burnout. Like many nail technicians, I was thankful for a full schedule—but the exhaustion was real. My fingers ached. My back was in constant pain. I couldn’t even sit through a family dinner. I didn’t care how much money I made. All I wanted was to run away.

    And that’s when I finally stopped and asked myself:
    Why am I doing this?
    Why can’t I say no to bookings?
    Why do I feel like I can’t stop?

    My husband kept reminding me that we were financially okay. He told me I could take a break, and he would support me. But I just couldn’t. I felt trapped—like an addict who says, “I know it’s hurting me, but I can’t stop.”

    It wasn’t until my body and my mind broke down together and told me, loud and clear: “We can’t do this anymore.” That’s when I finally sent the message to all my clients: I’m taking a break.

    And in that space, I realized something important.
    I wasn’t afraid of quitting the job—I was afraid of disappointing people.
    I was afraid of being judged as lazy or weak.
    I was afraid of the unknown, of “what if” something goes wrong and I need money.

    But deeper than that, I realized:
    I love working.
    I love creating something I’m proud of.
    I just don’t want to do it from a place of fear, pressure, or obligation.

    I’m back to my business now and have created a new pricelist and policy as well as studied a new profession to add to my salon: skincare. I want to wake up excited about my work—not just rush through it so I can rest. I want work to bring me joy and purpose—not just income.

    They say, “If you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life.”
    And I used to think that was a cliché.
    But now I understand—when your why is clear, work feels different.
    And that, to me, is worth everything.

    , , , ,

  • Do You Want to Change by Choice or Be Forced to Change?

    Do You Want to Change by Choice or Be Forced to Change?

    Lately, I’ve been reading a lot of news about people losing their jobs—whether due to the economic downturn or AI replacing human roles. While I’m also worrying about the future like everyone else, but I still spend time taking a break from work and searching for new opportunities. I know that worrying won’t change anything. If I go back to a job that no longer excites me, I’ll just be stepping back into the rat race—one that drains me and, in the long run, leads to regret. So instead, I’m choosing to stay calm and think deeply about what I truly want to do with my experience and what genuinely excites me.

    Even though my plate is full of life’s responsibilities, this year, my life seems to have shifted toward learning. Suddenly, I find myself diving into skincare, biology, chemistry, and even traditional medicine—fields I never imagined studying before. But it all started with one simple moment. While doing nails for my clients, I noticed that many of them were exhausted, barely enjoying the service, likely wondering when it would be over. It made me think: If nails are considered a luxury service, why do so few people actually enjoy them? For most, it’s just another chore, something they “have to” do.

    That realization sparked a question in my mind—how could I offer services that help people truly relax and enjoy the experience? I thought about spa treatments, where in Vietnam, clients lie comfortably on a bed while multiple people work on them.

    So I started exploring different beauty services to add to my salon, eventually choosing skincare. I assumed it would be simple—just applying masks and doing massages. But instead, I found myself immersed in biochemistry, skin science, and even traditional medicine—because I believe in holistic wellness. When I was younger, I didn’t care about these things, but now, at 35, I feel how much more maintenance my body needs. I don’t wish to look 20 again, but I do miss the glow and vitality I once had. Every time I look at old photos, I feel a longing for “her.” And I know I’m not alone. Women my age, juggling demanding careers, children, and the ever-growing social pressure to look put together, want the same thing—to feel good in their skin, inside and out. That’s why I want to study, to learn, and to share all I discover with them.

    Believe it or not, I actually love learning all these complex things. I enjoy solving problems—just like when I did nails, wondering why a certain product worked for me but not for my clients. Now, I find myself diving into AI as well, not seeing it as a threat but as a tool to make my life easier. I imagine a future where I master these AI tools, allowing me to run my business with ease.

    It feels like I’ve suddenly been thrown into a new world—a world full of knowledge, possibilities, and excitement. But my mind sometimes struggles to keep up. It whispers that I’m too old, too tired, too busy for all this studying. It tempts me with the comfort of staying in what I know—after all, the money was good. So why change?

    But I know that if I stay in bed too long, I’ll miss the morning sunlight and a beautiful day filled with new opportunities. One of my classmates is 68 years old and still dreams of opening a home spa. If she’s not making excuses, why should I? Learning something new is challenging—but also incredibly fun.

    So even if no one fires me and my life is thankfully stable, I’m still choosing to change—to embrace new possibilities, to challenge myself, and to make my short time on this earth as fulfilling as possible.

    , , , ,

  • The 500 Dalton Rule: Understanding Skin Penetration & Optimizing Your Skincare Routine

    The 500 Dalton Rule: Understanding Skin Penetration & Optimizing Your Skincare Routine

    When it comes to skincare, not all ingredients penetrate the skin equally. Some stay on the surface, while others absorb deeply and deliver transformative effects. The 500 Dalton Rule explains which molecules can pass through the skin barrier and influence skin health.

    What Is the 500 Dalton Rule?

    The 500 Dalton Rule states that only molecules smaller than 500 Daltons (Da) can penetrate the stratum corneum (outermost skin layer) and reach deeper layers to have biological effects.

    🔹 Molecules smaller than 500 Da → Can penetrate the skin and work on deeper levels
    🔹 Molecules larger than 500 Da → Stay on the surface, providing hydration and protection

    This rule is used in dermatology and pharmaceutical science to determine which substances can be absorbed through the skin.

    What Ingredients Penetrate the Skin (< 500 Da)?

    ✅ Active Ingredients That Can Penetrate

    These small molecules can pass through the skin barrier and work on deeper layers:

    ✔ Hyaluronic Acid (low molecular weight) (~500 Da) – Deep hydration
    ✔ Vitamin C (L-Ascorbic Acid, ~176 Da) – Brightens skin, fights free radicals
    ✔ Niacinamide (~122 Da) – Strengthens skin, reduces redness & oiliness
    ✔ Salicylic Acid (BHA, ~138 Da) – Exfoliates inside pores, clears acne
    ✔ Retinol (Vitamin A, ~286 Da) – Stimulates collagen, anti-aging
    ✔ Caffeine (~194 Da) – Reduces puffiness & improves circulation
    ✔ Azelaic Acid (~188 Da) – Treats pigmentation & acne
    ✔ Glycolic Acid (AHA, ~76 Da) – Deep exfoliation, improves texture

    These ingredients are often found in serums because they are designed to penetrate deeply and treat skin concerns at a cellular level.

    ❌ What Stays on the Surface (> 500 Da)?

    These larger molecules work on the outer layer of the skin and provide hydration, protection, or barrier repair:

    ⛔ Collagen (~300,000 Da) – Hydrates, but doesn’t absorb deeply
    ⛔ Hyaluronic Acid (high molecular weight, ~1,000,000 Da) – Sits on the skin, locks in moisture
    ⛔ Peptides (often >500 Da) – Some signal skin repair but don’t penetrate deeply
    ⛔ Silicones & Dimethicone – Forms a breathable skin barrier
    ⛔ Ceramides & Lipids – Strengthen the skin barrier and prevent moisture loss

    These ingredients are usually found in moisturizers and occlusives to lock in hydration and reinforce the skin barrier.

    How to Build a Skincare Routine Using the 500 Dalton Rule

    To maximize penetration and ensure skincare works effectively, products should be layered in the correct order:

    1. Cleanser (Removes dirt, oil, and impurities)

    • Gentle non-stripping cleansers help maintain the skin barrier.

    2. Toner (Optional) (Balances pH, Prepares Skin)

    • Hydrating toners help pre-soak the skin for better product absorption.

    3. Serum (Deep Penetration, Active Ingredients < 500 Da)

    💡 Serums contain small molecules that target specific concerns like wrinkles, pigmentation, or hydration.
    Example: Vitamin C, Niacinamide, Hyaluronic Acid (low molecular weight), Retinol.

    4. Moisturizer (Hydration & Skin Barrier Support, > 500 Da)

    💡 Moisturizers contain larger molecules to seal in hydration and provide a barrier against environmental stress.
    Example: Ceramides, Peptides, High Molecular Weight Hyaluronic Acid.

    5. Facial Oil (Locks in Everything, Seals Moisture)

    💡 Oils do not hydrate, but they prevent moisture loss by forming a protective layer.
    Example: Jojoba Oil, Squalane, Rosehip Oil.

    6. Sunscreen (AM Routine Only, Protects from UV Damage) ☀

    Essential for preventing UV-induced pigmentation, wrinkles, and collagen breakdown.

    Why Serums Go Before Moisturizer & Oil?

    • Serums contain small, active molecules (< 500 Da) that need to absorb first.
    • Moisturizers help hydrate and reinforce the barrier but don’t penetrate deeply.
    • Oils should be applied last because they act as occlusives to lock everything in.
    • Applying oil first would block serums & moisturizers from working properly.

    Common Skincare Myths About Skin Penetration

    🚫 “Collagen creams will boost collagen production.”
    🔹 Truth: Collagen molecules are too large to penetrate (~300,000 Da). Instead, use peptides or Vitamin C to stimulate natural collagen production.

    🚫 “More tingling means better absorption.”
    🔹 Truth: Tingling can be a sign of irritation, not effectiveness. Low pH products (like acids) will feel tingly, but that doesn’t mean they work better.

    🚫 “Drinking collagen is the best way to get youthful skin.”
    🔹 Truth: Collagen supplements may improve skin hydration, but studies are still inconclusive on whether they directly boost collagen production in the skin.

    Final Thoughts: Why This Matters for Your Skincare Routine

    Understanding the 500 Dalton Rule helps you:
    ✔ Choose effective products that actually penetrate the skin
    ✔ Layer skincare correctly for maximum absorption
    ✔ Avoid wasting money on products that don’t work as claimed
    ✔ Know when to use serums vs. moisturizers vs. oils

    Want to optimize your routine? Focus on small molecule actives for treatment and larger molecules for hydration & protection.

    , , , , , , ,

  • Overachievers – Where Are You?

    Overachievers – Where Are You?

    If you were like me, you’d understand how hard it is to be the eldest child in an Asian family—especially as a girl. From the moment you could walk, your parents expected you to be a Wonder Woman. You had to figure things out on your own, excel at everything (because an “A” wasn’t enough—it had to be A++), and, on top of that, take care of your younger siblings.

    So when I gave birth to my first child, my in-laws came to help me. They assumed I’d be overwhelmed as a new mom, living in a foreign country with no family of my own nearby. But the truth? I already knew how to care for a baby—I had practically raised my younger siblings back home. What was new was motherhood, in a new country, without the familiar support system I had always known.

    Then I went back to work, despite barely speaking Hebrew and having only two years of experience living in Israel—one of which I spent pregnant and working in a hotel, and the other at home with my newborn during COVID. Out of necessity, I bought nail equipment to do my own nails at home, and that small act of self-care turned into something bigger: I became a nail technician. I memorized just enough Hebrew words to communicate about colors and nail shapes with customers. Thankfully, I met patient and kind women who sat through my slow work as I perfected my craft.

    I worked hard, built a business, had two beautiful children, and survived six years in Israel through COVID, wars, and everything in between. Like many, I struggled with depression from time to time. Most of the time, I managed to pull myself out with work, exercise, meditation, and journaling (not much, honestly). And with a lot of support from my husband.

    But last year… last year was different.

    The Breaking Point

    One evening, while having dinner and listening to my children quarreling, I found myself overwhelmed—trying to catch up with customers’ messages before they got upset, worrying about potential rocket sirens, and stressing over my business’s future as my arthritis worsened. Then, out of nowhere—a panic attack.

    I had never experienced one before. I didn’t see it coming. Even in that moment, my overachieving brain thought, Not now. I have too many things to think about. But my body didn’t care. The pain was too intense to ignore.

    After that, I changed.

    I lost my appetite. My hair started falling out. I had no motivation to work, no desire to meet or talk to anyone. More than anything, I just wanted to be home. Vietnam. I wanted to sleep in my childhood bed, eat my mom’s food, wander through street markets with my siblings, and talk for hours about everything and nothing.

    For the first time in my life, I let go.

    I sent messages to my customers, telling them I was taking a break—until when, only God knew. For someone who had never taken a break from work, this was unimaginable. Guilt, shame, and confusion consumed me. But after a month, something unexpected happened.

    I started feeling lighter.

    Slowly, my energy returned. I began cooking again. Ideas for a new business started forming. And for the first time in a long time, I felt excited.

    I still loved doing nails, but my body couldn’t keep up anymore. So I decided to evolve—to transform my nail business into something even more fulfilling: a holistic wellness business.

    Falling Apart to Come Together

    During what felt like the darkest period of my life, I found my light.

    In my search for answers, I discovered Buddhism and the work of scientists like Robert Sapolsky and Ellen Langer, who helped me understand why I do what I do and how I can live more joyfully and meaningfully.

    For the first time, I paused. I observed my own patterns and realized—I had been reacting to what everyone else wanted from me my entire life. Saying no had always felt impossible.

    But now?

    Now, I’m learning to enjoy my life.

    I’m stepping into a new chapter—one that I believe will be the most fulfilling yet. Because I’ve learned the greatest lesson of my life, and I want to share it with you on this journey:

    Balance

  • Why Practicing Gratitude Can Give You Everything You’ve Ever Wanted

    Why Practicing Gratitude Can Give You Everything You’ve Ever Wanted

    If you’re anything like me, you’ve probably heard countless experts say, “Write down what you’re grateful for every morning or evening.” But why? Just to feel good? If someone does something nice for me, I say thank you in the moment—why should I sit down at the end of the day and force myself to recall things to be grateful for? Honestly, it felt a little weird, and I rarely remembered to do it consistently.

    Then, by accident, I came across Donald Hoffman, a cognitive scientist who suggests that we don’t see reality as it is—we see it as it’s useful to us. He gave the example of the Australian jewel beetle, which nearly went extinct because male beetles kept mistaking beer bottles for female beetles due to their glossy brown color. The bottles weren’t actually female beetles, but the beetles’ perception wasn’t about truth—it was about survival.

    And suddenly, something clicked.

    Maybe we, as humans, don’t perceive reality objectively either. Maybe we use mental hacks—shortcuts that help us navigate life. And perhaps gratitude is one of those powerful hacks—not just a feel-good exercise, but a tool to help us experience a more fulfilling life.

    How Gratitude Actually Rewires Your Reality

    The reason this works isn’t just some feel-good philosophy; it’s backed by neuroscience—specifically, the Reticular Activating System (RAS) in our brain.

    The RAS acts as a filter, deciding what we pay attention to and what we ignore. It’s why, once you focus on something, you start noticing it everywhere.

    Here’s a personal example: One day, I had a conversation with a French guy on Tinder. After that, suddenly, I kept meeting French people—at restaurants, in the supermarket, in my classes, even at red lights on the street. Had they all been there before, and I just hadn’t noticed them?

    Or take my husband—when he decided to buy a Nissan, he suddenly started seeing Nissans everywhere. His father asked him, “Why did you pick that car?” He said, “Because I see them all over the streets.” But were they really more common, or had his RAS just tuned in to them?

    This isn’t coincidence. Our brains don’t passively perceive reality; they actively shape it.

    The Life-Changing Shift: Your Focus Creates Your Experience

    When I realized this, it changed everything for me.

    Hoffman suggests that the reality we experience is subjective, meaning I have the power to shape it. That I can choose to live a life of abundance, happiness, and ease—without exhausting myself to the point of burnout, like I did for 35 years.

    I used to believe that happiness was something to achieve, something to chase. But what if it was always there, waiting for me to notice it?

    That’s when I finally understood:

    Saying “thank you” for what I have isn’t just a way to feel good in the moment. It’s a way to train my brain to notice more good things, which in turn brings more into my life.

    How to Rewire Your Reality Using Gratitude

    If your brain is constantly filtering reality based on what you focus on, then reshaping your experience of life is as simple as choosing what to focus on—intentionally.

    Here’s how:

    1. Set Clear Intentions

    What do you want to notice more of in life?

    • If you want to feel more joy, tell yourself: “I am looking for moments of happiness today.”
    • If you want to attract opportunities, remind yourself: “I am open to new possibilities.”
      Your RAS will start highlighting moments that match what you’ve programmed it to find.

    2. Use Positive Affirmations

    Your beliefs influence what your RAS filters for you.

    • If you repeat “I am capable and worthy”, your brain will scan for evidence to support that.
    • If you think “I’m unlucky and nothing ever works out”, your brain will show you proof of that instead.
      Your thoughts create mental algorithms that your brain follows automatically.

    3. Visualize What You Want

    When you vividly picture yourself achieving something, your RAS primes your brain to recognize real-world opportunities to make it happen. Athletes and high achievers use this technique to train their minds before taking action.

    4. Change Your Questions

    The questions you ask shape your reality. Try shifting them:
    ❌ “Why is my life so hard?” → ✅ “How can I make today better?”
    ❌ “Why do bad things always happen to me?” → ✅ “What is one thing I’m grateful for?”
    Your RAS will scan for answers that align with the questions you ask.

    The Key Takeaway

    Maybe happiness, success, and fulfillment aren’t things we have to chase. Maybe they’re already around us, waiting for us to notice them.

    And just like training your body, you can train your mind to see a different reality—simply by shifting what you focus on.

    , , , ,

thuychi2609
thuychi2609

Home