When part of your family thinks that doctors are the “persecuted class”

I think it can be universally stated no matter what country you are in that doctors, as a group of people, can be considered a “prestigious” profession or class of people. They are known to earn good money regardless of where in the world they live. There’s pretty much no one you would meet, regardless of nationality, ethnicity, race, or gender, who would say that to be a doctor is not a ‘high class’ profession. And there is no one who would say that nurses are equal to doctors in prestige and/or pay.

But then, I met my in-laws and listened to a very big and loud debate they had with Chris tonight, and I realized that they are actually the only two people I have met on planet earth who actually do believe that doctors have the same level of “prestige” or “status” as nurses, and would even argue that nurses get paid the same — at least, in Australia. And I also heard my mother-in-law say that she thinks that doctors are a “persecuted class” of people in Australia.

I asked my good friend Claude (AI) what the average salaries are in Australia for nurses versus doctors. Claude informed us that on average for the last available year of data, doctors as a group make about double what nurses make there. Both in-laws refuted the data and insisted the stats were inaccurate. My mother-in-law kept insisting her own personal experiences were representative of all doctors in the country, and that her own anecdotes held more weight than national statistics.

I love my in-laws and think they are generally good people. But this doubting of real statistics feels like the spread of fake news. Now I understand why Chris and his brother always say they’d never take real career advice from their parents.

Suicide ideation in a 9-year-old

Over the last decade, suicide rates among people under 18, and youth in general, have increased overall. There has been an upward trend pre 2020, a spike around the COVID period, and some recent improvement, but still elevated levels. Suicide has remained one of the leading causes of death for adolescents, and overall youth suicide rates are much higher today than they were just 10 to 15 years ago. Mental health struggles have increased in surveys of teens, especially among certain age sub groups. I’m aware of this not just because of my involvement with AFSP, but also because I generally follow mental health and overall health news and developments.

Today at an afternoon catch up with a friend, I was saddened to learn that her 9-year-old niece had attempted suicide by slashing her wrists. In the last few months, she’d already started withdrawing from friends and activities that usually interest her. She’s not even officially a pre-teen yet, yet she’s already feeling depressed. She has intense pressure from her mother to “make it” as a child model, and she’s constantly told she has to smile 24/7. It sounds like a pretty miserable life for such a young kid.

My friend is naturally a caring (and sometimes over-caring) and concerned person. She always wants to help and “fix” problems as best as she can. But this is one of those issues where I told her flat out that it would not be something to “fix”, but rather would need to be seen as a “work in progress.” At this age, kids need to know that they are good and enough as they are; they need a strong emotional foundation, and it’s up to the adults in their lives to help provide them that. Given she barely sees her niece once a month, she’s going to need someone more often present in her life like a counselor or closer family member to help reinforce this. She needs low-pressure, consistent communication. She also needs to know she has a safe space to openly speak her mind about anything and everything.

I think back to my old childhood and to Ed’s. And I know without a doubt that Ed had no adult he could rely on to be his safe person, his safe space. I eventually found two teachers in middle and high school who became mine, and ultimately my de factor mentors. If every little child growing up had real safe spaces with reliable, well-intentioned, kind-hearted adults, I think we’d have less mental health challenges amongst young people. But I guess we can all only try to do our own little parts to contribute to this.

Chè Thái (Vietnamese fruit cocktail)

I grew up eating many variations of chè, or traditional Vietnamese sweet soups and puddings. As a child, I enjoyed them just as much as I enjoyed western desserts like cake or ice cream. Plus, I didn’t have easy access to these Vietnamese desserts unless we stumbled upon a Vietnamese bakery or were in San Jose or Orange County. My mom never made very much Vietnamese food given our favorite Vietnamese dishes can be very laborious, and there was no way she’d ever go to the great lengths it takes to put together a Vietnamese dessert like these.

I never realized when I was younger how much healthier most of these Asian desserts were because they actually had good-for-you ingredients like real fruit and even beans — yes, beans! The one my mom got for me most often in my early years was che dau xanh, or mung bean pudding. It’s a pudding-like che that has mung beans cooked down until soft with some sugar, and sometimes flavored with pandan. Then it’s topped with a very luscious, whipped coconut cream. Another one I enjoyed occasionally was che ba mau, also known as “three colored dessert.” This one has layers of pandan jellies, mashed sweetened mung bean, red beans (sometimes even kidney beans), and a thick layer of sweetened coconut cream.

One version of che that I’ve been thinking about a lot since we were in the Philippines (halo halo!) was che thai, which is translated to mean “Vietnamese fruit cocktail,” in the style of many Thai desserts, hence the “Thai” in the name. I suppose that to describe it a a “fruit cocktail” is fairly accurate given it’s a few different types of fruits and jellies served in a sweetened “soup” that uses coconut milk/cream as its base. So I decided that once the weather got warmer and we had company over that I’d make it. Chris’s parents have arrived for their annual visit, so this will be their first dessert at home with us. It’s pretty straightforward and easy given most of the ingredients are from cans: canned longan, lychee, jackfruit, toddy palm seeds, young coconut flesh, and even aiyu jelly can be used. If you don’t want to use aiyu jelly from a can, you can either make your own, or make a pandan jelly. I made and cubed pandan jelly this morning using agar agar (seaweed) powder – it took less than ten minutes! I also sliced up some jackfruit and toddy palm seeds, and then peeled and cut some fresh mango. I added some canned longans whole. And as the last step, I mixed the “soup” base, which was about a cup of coconut milk, some coconut water, and added some jackfruit syrup/juice from the can until the sweetness was just right. I mixed everything in a big bowl and put it in the fridge to cool.

The che thai was a success: everyone enjoyed it! Chris’s mom even had seconds. And Kaia finished the little bowl I prepared her; she was especially fascinated by the pandan jellies and got so excited she was able to eat jellies with her mama’s approval ( did make them, after all!). If it were in season, I would have liked to include pomegranate seeds to give the che thai a red color to make the soup “pop” more, but I guess I can save that for another time. Some recipes, to add a “red” fruit, will take canned Chinese water chestnuts, chop them into small pieces, coat them in tapioca starch and red food coloring, and then boil them to infuse the red color into the water chestnuts. But I am trying to avoid artificial colors and flavors as much as I can, so I nixed this. And I don’t think anyone would have thought that could enhance tonight’s dessert. Sometimes, it really is the simplest desserts that are quite delicious.

Making strawberry matcha latte at home

The last time I was at a matcha cafe, I was very tempted to get their strawberry matcha latte. But then I balked at the price — $9. I thought to myself, I know I can easily make this for so much less at home, and I would enjoy doing it. So I ordered a cheaper matcha latte that day and made a mental note to myself that I had to buy strawberries when on sale next and commit to making the strawberry sauce base.

So I got two pounds of very ripe strawberries from a street vendor in Astoria last weekend, and this time I knew I was finally going to make this happen! I washed and cut up the strawberries, tossed them into a little saucepan with a little bit of sugar. Then I boiled and simmered it for about 10 minutes. I pureed the sauce and stored it in a jar in the fridge. The “hard” work was done here.

Today, I finally put it all together: I added about a quarter of a cup of the strawberry sauce to two tall glasses (for both Chris and me), then poured in about half a cup of milk to each. I took some of my Costco everyday matcha powder and whisked it with some hot water. I added this to the glasses along with some ice and stirred a bit. Then I took a sip.

This was definitely tasty, and likely more satisfying knowing that I made this all by myself… And knowing that each of these glasses did not cost $9! I am more than happy to pay for lattes or tea/coffee drinks out when I know I cannot be bothered making the equivalent at home. But for me, a strawberry matcha latte is very low effort, high reward. And as long as I have matcha at home and affordable access to sweet strawberries, then I’m all in on making these and enjoying at home.

When your esthetician actually compliments your skin

Since about 2013, I’ve been getting a facial about once a year to treat myself. There have been some anomalies where I’ve gotten two facials in a year, but that was either because I got a second one because of President’s Club at my last company, or because some friends wanted to have a spa day together. Then in 2024, I got referred to a skin clinic in Midtown Manhattan by a friend, and I really liked the esthetician who worked with me. Since then, I’ve committed to about two-ish facials per year, plus a few laser treatments since in my middle age, I’ve discovered a little hidden body dysmorphia (I have a great track record for being slow to almost everything…). In this entire time, I’ve pretty much never gotten any compliments on my skin other than that I’ve always looked young for my age. (I will note that when I went to my first and only dermatologist appointment back in October, the doctor said my “skin looks great!” But alas, she said this in the context of moles and potential skin cancer, so take that with a grain of salt). Other than that, most previous estheticians have told me that I have “very congested” skin, or a congested nose (I mean, I do have Asian genes, so this tracks). And in the last few years, I’ve been told that my oily skin has morphed into “combination skin,” meaning that I am dry in some parts but oily in others. So, this has been a lot of fun!

So yesterday, I went in for a facial with my now-regular esthetician. And after the full facial treatment, she took a few photos for me and compared these to when I first started seeing her in mid-2024. And she said to me, “Yvonne, your skin is looking so good! It’s so much brighter than it was before. Just look at these before vs. now photos. Have you been doing something different to your skin lately?”

Well, yes. I started an Australian 20 percent azelaic acid cream every morning since the end of December. And then I started 0.025 percent Tretinoin two days after my birthday in January for about four days per week, so I guess I have been doing a lot that is more intense and different for my skin than before. So maybe this is what is making it “brighter?” I have no idea. I look at my face every single day and probably scrutinize it more than I should, but if she didn’t show me the photos, I likely would have thought my skin was never going to do any better than it did in 2024.

It does feel good when an objective other person can share with you that something about you is improving for the better, though. I hope my skin health keeps up!

The high protein life

One of my friends who has an insulin resistance recently gifted me three boxes of bean-based dry pasta: they are chickpea, edamame (soybean!), and black bean based. She told me that given her health condition, she actually doesn’t have any regular (wheat) pasta at home, so this is all she has when she says she eats pasta at home. I tried the edamame spaghetti and used it for this oven roasted tomato sauce I’d made about a month ago and defrosted. Chris tried the pasta before I did, so I asked him what he thought.

“The sauce is very good,” Chris said to me.

“Okay,” I started, “But what about the pasta?”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “The sauce is very good.”

Okay, so he hated the pasta. Then he eventually elaborated, saying that the edamame pasta was clearly not going to fool anyone who knew what “the real thing” tasted like. He said it felt like he was “eating for the sake of eating.”

Then, I tried the pasta with my homemade sauce, and I understood what he meant. It just didn’t have that nice mouthfeel and texture that durum wheat-based pasta has. Plus the texture was very questionable. I cooked it al dente according to the box cooking time, and this pasta… just felt like a lighter form of leather.

But I’m still going to keep going with this, and I will most definitely use and cook the two remaining bean based pastas. Today, I tried the tofu bread rolls I made from Hetty Lui McKinnon’s Linger cookbook. These tofu bread rolls are made with zero dairy or eggs: the majority of the dough is just silken tofu and bread flour for high gluten development (i.e. extra, extra fluffiness and lift). And while the texture and fluffiness were very good, I think it may have needed some extra sugar to be more of a standard dinner roll-type bread. I couldn’t imagine eating this bread plain on its own; it definitely either needed a high quality, salted butter, or a fruity jam.

So, this is the high protein life I am exploring. It’s an interesting one, and I am definitely learning a lot about how the foods we know can evolve!

All relationships are work

The Oxford English dictionary defines work as, “activity involving mental or physical effort done in order to achieve a purpose or result.” If you know the strict definition of work, I think most would agree that all relationships are work. It doesn’t matter if it’s the relationship you have with your spouse, child, mother, friend, or colleague: all require a certain level of effort in order to sustain the relationship — at least, in some semi healthy way.

Chris and I just hit our 10-year wedding anniversary last month. His parents sent well wishes on our family Whatsapp group. Then his brother wished us a happy anniversary, also saying, “Good work on reaching 10 years of marriage!”

I looked at his message and smirked. “Thanks!” I responded back. “Ummm, yes. It is most definitely work!”

I told my friend, who is uncoupled, that we had reached our 10-year wedding anniversary and had been together for over 14 years now. She was flabbergasted.

“Shit, I don’t know how you do it!” she said to me after wishing us a happy anniversary. “How can you stand someone for that long, constantly in your space and not doing things the way you want them done?”

This friend knows I am anal-retentive with cleaning. She knows I like everything done in a very certain way in the kitchen. She also knows that I have very strong opinions. And on top of all that, she’s met Chris a number of times now and has had the chance to speak with him a decent amount, so she said she could already imagine how ridiculous and intense our disagreements and arguments would be.

I always wanted to get married. Ever since I learned what marriage was, I wanted to get married and live “happily ever after.” But I don’t think Disney fairy tales or the example of what “marriage” is supposed to be like based on my parents’ relationship were ever the best examples that set me up for success. I’ve spent decades reading psychology and sociology articles and studies, and took a number of classes on these topics. Hell, I even took a sociology course on sociology of marriage and family in college. And when I did therapy two different periods of my life, I spent a good amount of time talking about my relationships with my parents, friends, and Chris, and what I want and do not want to be or become. All of this has been really hard work and required a lot of thinking and introspection. Sometimes, getting to a state of self-awareness can be quite painful. Yet despite all that hard work, I still mess up and do and say stupid things I don’t really mean to say or do in the way it comes out. It’s like every day, I am trying to break out of inherited intergenerational trauma and redefine what I want to be in my relationships with Chris and others I love. I guess everyone is a little bit like that: we only know what we know — until we try to break unhealthy cycles — again, assuming we have a certain level of self awareness, or someone helps point it out to us.

But the work we put into relationships with those we love most is important. It’s probably the most important work of your life. It’s hard for me to imagine a life without those who are closest to me who I love the most. Frankly, I don’t want to be my dad in that sense: I don’t want to be a total loner with zero friends. I also don’t want to be in a marriage where I feel emotionally estranged from my spouse. So while many reject close friendships or serious romantic partnerships, I guess at the end of the day, I am still a romantic and want all these things to be a part of my daily reality.

So, the work continues.

A sore left hip flexor, and when cortisol spikes in middle age due to slowing metabolism

I only did one run this week on Wednesday, which isn’t normal for my weekly workout routine. I did my usual warm up, then as soon as the run was done, I could tell my left hip flexor was tight. Then annoyingly, it remained tight all day… through today. I’ve never had a tightness in my left hip flexor before. After weaning from breastfeeding and doing more high intensity runs back in 2023, I discovered tightness on the right side for the first time in my life. The amazing trainer at my gym gave me suggestions for strengthening exercises for my glutes, hamstrings, and hip flexor to prevent the tightness. In addition, I did more hip flexor stretches and incorporated a yoga session per week to increase mobility. That seemed to do the trick: I cannot remember the last time my right hip flexor was sore. But now, it seems my left hip flexor is crying out for help, asking, “Hey! Remember me! You need to help me, too!” Those exercises I did for my right side were also done on my left side, too. So this may just be a new weakness I’ve identified that may need to be addressed in a slightly different way.

Aging is a gift. Not everyone is lucky enough to see their next birthday, to live up to the age you or I am at. And I’ve embraced it with more confidence every year. But I will be honest: identifying these new changes in my body and trying to figure out how to troubleshoot them have not been very fun. I am extremely active, exercise far more than the average person does, and try to take care of myself the best I can to ensure optimal health and fitness. But finding out about all these new physiological shifts of midlife, such as declining estrogen that slow metabolism, is challenging. Just a few years ago, if I knew I needed to burn some extra fat, I would just do a harder, more intense run and for longer. I’d do barre or pilates fusion until it burned. And it always worked then. This isn’t the case anymore, and it isn’t that simple where I am now. I’ve already been going hard for the last few months since coming back from Australia and the Philippines, and I’ve only lost about 3-4 pounds out of the eight I wanted to lose. The extra belly fat is just stuck there and doesn’t want to leave. No one else would notice it other than me, though. Running more intensely is NOT producing fat loss because it doesn’t address this age-related shifts that slow metabolism. Plus at this age, steady-state running can even spike cortisol levels, signaling that the body needs to protect itself and guard the fat more, especially in the abdominal area. I guess that’s why I have a little more pudge around my lower waist than I did pre-weaning.

I guess I will need to embrace brisk incline walks a couple times a week now, in place of 2-3x week runs. I will see if it results in any change because I have a feeling my cortisol must be spiking. I suppose this is the right attitude: test and learn, test and shift when things don’t work! These are the new things I am learning to live with — the fact that I cannot control all the changes happening to my body as easily as I did before.

Transitional weather conundrum: what am I supposed to wear?

The weather has been pretty wonky here in New York the last couple weeks. This last week, it’s been so cold that even after doing a thorough wash of our down-like winter coats to (originally) put away until next winter, I actually had to take them out again for Kaia and me. Kaia wore hers twice this week, and I wore mine once! It’s April, and we still need to turn the heat on at home…

So today, it was actually supposed to hit low 60s F in the city. Kaia wore a light jacket to school. I wouldn’t leave the house until the afternoon to meet my friend, and I had no idea what I wanted to wear. Because I tend to run cold, I put on a sweater, plus a medium-weight coat on top of it. I walked outside for two blocks and already felt too hot, so I took off my scarf.

Everyone who is into fashion always goes gaga for “transitional” seasons like spring and autumn. These people love their autumn or spring jackets, their cute tops and skirts, and count down the days when they can put together these nice outfits. I, on the other hand, am not at all a fashionista, truly dislike both of those seasons for dressing myself. I never have any idea what to wear, how to layer things. And since I run cold, I tend to overdress, which then means I will need to shed layers, which then means I will need to either carry said layers or stuff them in a bag. And that is so annoying to me. It’s even more annoying now that I have a preschooler, who always insists I carry her crap, as well!

I met my friend for tea today. After she hugged me, she looked me up and down, then back down and up. Then she said, “Are you a bit warm in this?”

Sometimes, I wish I could just go outside wearing a big warm brown paper bag and call it a day. That would be so much simpler.

When Kaia wants to choose her clothes, even the under garments

The last couple of weeks in the mornings, Kaia has had strong opinions about what she wears to school. She’s rejected a few of the pieces I picked out and insisted that she pick out her own t-shirt (which no one would see since it’s still cold, and she wears a warm sweater layer on top…) and even her own socks. I know that at her stage of development, allowing her some level of autonomy is key so that she “feels” like she has a sense of control. So in most of these cases, I relent and just let her choose… assuming she doesn’t take more than three minutes to select the substitute clothing.

But she’s actually shown preference for clothing since she was as young as 2.5 years of age, if not younger. She does not like plain tops of any kind; she needs to have a design of some sort on them. So when it comes to layering pieces, I often have to force her to wear a plain shirt underneath. She’s always loved lighter, summery clothing over the thick layers of winter. She loves colorful printed dresses and is completely obsessed with tutus. And she really does not seem to be a fan of warm winter dresses at all. She refuses to wear anything black, with the exception of a black t-shirt we got her that has a spider web fully made of rhinestones. And she needs to be cajoled into wearing black pants (everyone needs something basic, even at that age, right?).

Today, she asked to wear her Mickey Mouse and mango shirt we got her while in the Philippines. This t-shirt was part of the Uniqlo location-specific collections: this one was themed “Mickey goes to the Philippines.” But on top, she wanted to wear her Elsa sweater. Chris watched her undress this evening and said, “Isn’t that kind of a waste to wear that underneath since no one will be able to see it?”

Yes, it kind of is. But at the same time, Kaia wanted to wear it underneath, and she knows she is wearing it underneath, and that makes her happy. And sometimes, if not all the time, as long as she knows she has it and is wearing it and likes it, then that’s all that really matters, doesn’t it? I think of it like nice, super comfortable or fun-printed (and oftentimes expensive…) underwear or bras. Most of the time outside of maybe your partner or kids, no one will ever see you wearing these under garments. But they make you happy and feel good. Therefore, your happiness, knowledge, and comfort are all that should matter when deciding to wear them.