Kate LSY

In the spirit of starting the year off slow, as one should in the season of hibernation, I’m taking my sweet time to conclude 2024, which has just become past tense, before beginning anew.

Thank You 2023, Next! <- Clearly, Kate ’23 had similar foresight. 

If ’23 was the year I awoke to the idea of taking good care of myself, and actually succeeding, then ’24 was the year I both found and lost myself, over and over, only to realize:

To be found is to be lost.
To be lost is when you will be found again.

– Kate LSY ’25

Here’s my homework report for 2024 that no one asked for, but I know future Kate will appreciate.

1. On Writing – The struggle is real.
2. On Walks  – From solitude to Skye-induced chaos.
3. On Fitness – Maintenance mode, finally.
4. On Self – The cycles of being lost and found.
5. On New Experiences 🏡 Homecoming, ✈️ Travels, …💍 Engagement?!
6. On What’s Next?  – Project Mom, I am A Rich Man (MIAARM)

On Writing

I was in desperate need of inspiration for how to structure this post, so I took a trip down memory lane and revisited my 2023 recap. Gotta give it to past Kate—she did a beautiful job. Not to toot my own horn, but damn, she was so poetic and careful, like she was holding her own delicate heart in her hands. What a sweet baby angel. I wish I could squeeze her into a hug. 

Ohhhhhh, how things have changed in the span of a year.

Kate ‘23 wrote with such gentle reverence of her journey, like every step was sacred.
She polished each word like she had something to prove.
Now, I write like I have nothing to lose. 

– Kate LSY ’25

I followed my Year Zero roadmap, which, Thank gawd, past Kate had the foresight to start, because I’m reaping the rewards now and stacking them like Lego bricks.

Sure, my posts haven’t been consistent, but progress is progress. Me thinks.

I’m not kidding when I say writing is one of the hardest things I’ve ever committed to. It’s like knowing I’ll be constipated but I take a seat anyway in front of the keyboard, hoping, grunting, crying…Writing is definitely not for the faint of heart. I vastly underestimated how difficult and lonely it can be. The crippling self-doubt, the perfectionist paralysis, the tubs of anxiety—goddamn, it’s a special kind of torture that has cemented my identity in masochism.

And yet, I’m still here.
Still writing.
Still very much committed to the Year-I-Don’t-Know-How-Many goal of being a published author.
So, at least there’s that.

P.S. If you’re a writer and are tired of suffering alone, hit me up on Threads. We can cry and rock in fetal position together.

On Walks 

Happy to report that I’ve kept the insomnia demons at bay this year. If my daily walks and exercise routine helped…it wasn’t quick. But hey, we gotta start somewhere if we ever want to reap what we sow.

Walks also changed for me this year.

In ‘23, I walked alone. Usually in peace.
In ‘24, I walk with a menace. -> The Other Side of The Puppy Blues & Reactivity

Some months, I didn’t even get the chance to look up at the sky, let alone enjoy 诗和远方—poetry and the distant place; dreams, passion, and adventures beyond the routine. You know, the whole shebang where I found contentment in just being.

Walks used to be a time when I willingly lost myself in the beauty of the world or in my own thoughts. Now, I walk with a purpose—to tire out the gremlin on four legs, rain or shine, in snow or wind chill of -40°C. I don’t just wander around humming in my head thinking “waw, what a beautiful day” anymore. I watch Sunny to make sure she’s not eating shit off the ground or on the verge of a full blown breakdown at the sight of another dog (updates to come on her journey of reactivity). 

But even amidst the chaos, I still manage to find a few stolen moments of stillness.

On Fitness

Similar to walking, fitness has officially exited Year Zero, the “building a habit” phase, and entered maintenance mode, Year Two. I’m still fencing (update post coming soon), still following Caroline Girvan’s videos.

It took years to get here, but I’m here! There’s no more fuss about it. It’s just part of my life now.

Whether I train or not, the time will pass anyway. And that’s the motto I’m gonna use for every new habit I want to build.

Never give up on a dream just because of the time it will take to accomplish it. The time will pass anyway.

– Earl Nightingale

On Self

My writing has changed (evidently so compared to ‘23), my voice has changed, and consequently, I’ve changed. 

To be thrown into the void, zooming through the tunnel of darkness, catching slivers of light, and finally arriving—I could only describe the feeling as alive.

– Kate LSY ’25

There’s a level of liberation and exhilaration in embracing the odyssey of self-transformation that also comes with a crushing weight of fear. The fear of who or what I need to move on without, so I don’t need to retain the smaller and boxed-in version of myself just to keep the equilibrium. The weight I needed to shed made me feel lost as quickly as I felt found.

But if I learned anything, it’s this:

I will be found again.
It’s just a matter of time.

– Kate LSY ’25

And that changes everything.

On New Experiences

Six weeks of soul-traveling
Three weeks of fun in Japan

Three weeks of rediscovering where home had been (China).

The menace that makes me question if I’m fit to be a parent.
The Other Side of The Puppy Blues & Reactivity

On What’s Next? 

‘23 was a year where I took care of myself, ‘24 was an odyssey of being lost and found, over and over, and ‘25?
It’ll be the year where I take control.

I’m initiating Project MIAARM—Mom, I Am a Rich Man. Laugh. But seriously. I mean it.

Every road I take leads to MIAARM, working towards a life where nothing is ever a need, but a choice. It sounds nice, doesn’t it? But I wonder if I’ll get there and still feel like it’s not enough. Whatever. I’m doing it anyway, because the time? It be passing.

Oh, and I’m toying with the idea of getting a motorcycle.

There, I said it. Laying my desires, wants, and ambitions bare. Scattering them in a world that tells us not to speak of them. Where we’re taught to hide what we crave until it becomes crystalized realities, so no one can mock our hope or bruise our pride. Where even success comes with caution—to not celebrate too loudly, or you’d be labelled as arrogant.

Fuck. That.
I’m planting seeds, throwing them to the wind, and shouting it from the rooftops.

Let the manifestation begin! 

Don’t be afraid to tell the world what you want.
And don’t be afraid to tell it again when you change your mind.
Because the world doesn’t care, and neither should you.

– Kate LSY ’25

So, Kate ‘25. When you inevitably look back in 2026, because I know you will. Tell me:
Are we published?
Are we A Rich Man yet?
What bike(s) are we riding?
How’s that fencing medal looking on the wall?
Tell me everything.

Catch me up, bestie.

Oh my gawd, this year is going to be unhinged, and I’m already loving it. Eeeeeeee!
Kate