When your esthetician actually compliments your skin

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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

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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

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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

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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?

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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

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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.

Bibimbap with a gochuchang-based sauce that doesn’t have corn syrup

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I have been working to slowly but surely use all the meat in our freezer up before our next Costco run that is coming up soon. I defrosted some ground beef and decided that I’d make bibimbap this week, especially since as I was going through my pantry, I realized I had purchased a Trader Joe’s brand gochuchang sauce. And I really wanted to finally open and use it. The reason I got this gochuchang was that this is the very first gochuchang I’ve ever purchased that did not have either corn syrup or high fructose corn syrup in it. When I used to go down the entire aisle at HMart or other Korean markets, a gochuchang paste that had neither of these corn-based ingredients was simply nonexistent. And I really wanted to use gochuchang, so I felt like I had no choice but to settle on one of these versions, so I’d just pick the one that got the highest ratings. Corn syrup is pretty prevalent in Korean-made products since it’s cheap and gives the gochuchang an attractive, shiny glaze. It also acts as a stabilizer in sauces and processed foods. The Koreans were likely heavily influenced by Americans in using this cheap ingredient, and so it became a thing.

So now when you see modern, new-age independent Korean food companies rolling out new products, you can see immediately that they reject corn syrup/HFCS and proudly state on their label, product, banner, or website that they use real sugar and no corn syrup-type ingredients. You also see these items marked up quite a bit since obviously, real cane sugar is much more expensive than its crappy corn-based substitutes.

Anyway, so I used the gochuang paste in my bibimbap sauce tonight. I mixed it with some sesame oil, sugar, water, roasted sesame seeds, apple cider vinegar, and garlic. Once you combine these simple ingredients together, you get the magic of a gochuchang-based bibimbap sauce. Bibimbap, aka “mixed rice,” is always satisfying because of all the different flavors and textures of the various vegetables and protein, all pulled together with the sweet-savory bibimbap sauce.

I asked Chris what he thought of the bibimbap, and he said it was good, but noted that he thought he might have liked the previous gochuchang-based sauce I made more.

“That’s the one with the corn syrup!” I said. “This is the first bibimbap sauce with a gochuchang that has no HFCS or corn syrup!”

I guess the moral of the story is: Chris likes corn syrup. 🙂

Kaia wrote my name correctly for the first time

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On our Sunday slow day at home two days ago, I spent the afternoon going between playing with Kaia, cooking, and cleaning in the kitchen. She’s gotten a lot more into coloring lately, so she’s been using the princess coloring book I got her from Asheville on the weekends and self-restricting her coloring to one page per day. When she does activities like this where we can’t really do it “together,” she’s been asking me to simply sit there with her and keep her company.

“Sit with me, mama!” she says in her sweet little voice.

It’s been really sweet — for her to just ask me to sit with her and just be with her. It’s also been an exercise for me in truly just being in the moment with her and not preoccupying my mind and body in thinking about or doing something else. When I sat there watching her color on Sunday afternoon, I thought about how the years will go so quickly and soon, she will not want me anywhere near her while she’s sitting doing anything. And while I thought about it, I just smiled at her.

Another activity she wanted to do was to use this digital doodle pad that my friend got her. She loves trading it back and forth with me while we write and draw different things for each other. After I drew several objects she requested, Kaia then said, “I’m going to write your name!” And she started spelling my name out loud, writing each letter very slowly and intentionally. And while she did write very big and run out of room writing from left to right a couple times while using capital letters, when she finally did it, it looked really good! I smiled so hard that my face almost started hurting.

“Pookie, you did it!” I yelled. “Very good, Pookie Pie! I’m so proud of you!”

She beamed at me. “This is Mama!” she shrieked back at me.

Soon, she’ll be writing full sentences, then paragraphs, then even essays. She’s getting bigger and more mature every day. I guess I am getting more “mature” every day, too: I looked down and saw two aging 40-year-old hands. The older she gets, the older I get, too. These are the special moments of witnessing her growth that hopefully will stay with me — even when she’s driving me mad by running like crazy on the street or refusing to hold my hand in big crowds. All these moments feel so fleeting.

The overachieving babysitter

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Tonight, we went out to dinner at a new and impossible-to-get-reservations restaurant with two friends who had a food distributor hook-up. We got the same babysitter who came over the night of my birthday dinner party this year. She is a complete overachiever: she came about fifteen minutes earlier than I asked the last time, and she followed all my instructions to a T. She probably even did more cleaning around my kitchen than I asked her to do the first time around. She especially stands out because of how meticulous and into detail she is, and also because she is so early.

Today, about 15 minutes she was supposed to arrive, this babysitter texted me. When I see a text coming from a babysitter just before they are supposed to arrive, I immediately assume it’s because they are running late and want to give me the head’s up. In this case, it was the total opposite: she wanted to let me know that she would be “late” as in, she would not be able to make it to our house ten minutes early. And she apologized in advance.

This babysitter is amazing. She is so nice, so prompt, so attentive to detail. And the best part is that Kaia truly adores her. She’s the only babysitter who Kaia has actually asked to see again, and demanded that she come back the next weekend. Our other regular babysitter… is regularly late. And she rarely apologizes for being late and rarely gives a head’s up she will be late unless I text her to ask for her ETA. And to make matters worse, she just raised her rate by 20 percent — and at last minute notice just four days before she was supposed to come babysit. So, yes, all of this has definitely left a sour taste in my mouth.

We don’t get a babysitter very often given it’s not cheap — it probably evens out to about once a month (when we’re here), or even less. But this babysitter is definitely on the real favorites list.

Sluggish two days later

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On Friday night when we had dinner and a comedy show with friends, our friends got to the restaurant early enough for Happy Hour, so they ordered a bunch of items off the Happy Hour menu, including two orders of Korean fried chicken that came with two buckets of beer, for a total of ten beers. I figured they would get a single order of fried chicken with the beers, but I didn’t realize they would get two buckets. I had asked my friend to order me a specific Happy Hour cocktail without realizing they got so many beers. And because I hate waste, I felt bad leaving so many beers behind. So I decided that on top of my cocktail, I would have a beer… and then I opened a second beer and probably had a quarter to half of it. During dinner and the show, i felt completely fine. I did not turn red (no, I don’t get Asian glow). I felt sober and clear-headed.

That was until the next morning, when I woke up feeling sluggish in the mind and body. I wasn’t in pain, and I did not have that “hung over” feeling. It wasn’t like I couldn’t think straight, but I definitely did not feel good or refreshed in the slightest bit. I just felt… off. I could still follow conversations, do my usual tasks, and even did some yoga that morning. But “off” is the only word I can use to fully describe how I felt. And if that was not enough, today, which is two days later, I still don’t feel right. It’s like a foggy brain without being fully foggy, if that makes any sense at all. My motivation to do anything productive is extremely low. And given it was threatening to rain and did rain today, we ended up staying indoors all Sunday. I made one dish, and that was it.

I wonder if I would still feel this way if I didn’t actually know I was 40. I feel like because I know I am in my 40s now that I’m feeling more of these “your metabolism is slowing” feelings. As I read, your metabolism doesn’t just fall off a cliff at 40; that’s not really how metabolism works. It slows gradually over your late 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s. Regardless, this wasn’t a great feeling, especially as I’ve actively cut back on alcohol in the new year. And I don’t think I can drink that much anymore — for my mental clarity, but also for my general fitness goals.