This is when I decide I want a healthy habit

 I thought I should start a reading habit; it is more mentally therapeutic and better than scrolling on social media all day long.

I have always wanted to read and consume books, but I’m a cheapskate *oops. And, it is so hard to just go around the bookstore and pick one that I like. I just don’t have the time.

Cheapskate and no time - why I never make reading as a habit.

So I explore my options. It turns out there is a platform where you can read books online. And the books are good too, thank God! I can choose from millions of books and authors, plus I can also choose unpaid/paid story. How convenient!

Friends, mark this day. The day I, Ivy James started a reading habit.

So let’s talk about goals.. what goal do I want to achieve by reading? Also, what kind of book do I want to read? There are so many genres to be picked. How many minutes/hours do I want to spend reading? When do I want to read? *deep breathing. Hold your horses, Ivy. One at a time.

What goal do I want to achieve by reading? The goal is so I don’t invest too much time on social media. So, I targeted 1 book/month. I hope it is not so hard. *sweat

What kind of book do I want to read? I like contemporary literature, with some romantic comedy. I want the laugh, the aww moment and the imaginations. *cough.

How many minutes/hours do I want to spend reading? When do I want to read? I wanted a time where I can focus and be myself. So it is 30 minutes /day on wee early in the morning, or before going to sleep.

*making a mental note

That’s it! The new and improve Ivy James habit, August and onwards.

(me reading according to my imagination)

Current Status: Searching for My "Passion"

 (Has anyone seen it? It’s small, glowing, and currently missing.)

Okay, I’m having a moment. A Life Crisis moment. You know the one—where your gut feels like it’s doing somersaults and you start questioning everything down to your choice of cereal.

For years, I’ve been on this quest. The Quest for Passion. I’ve treated it like a high-stakes scavenger hunt. I thought, "Aha! Stationery! I love pens!" So I reviewed them. I even started a YouTube channel! (Which was very professional for exactly twelve weeks, until it became a digital ghost town four months ago.)

Then I thought, "Videos! I’ll document the children!" Result? Same four-month disappearing act.

Then—my grandest plan yet—I decided I was basically the long-lost third member of The Home Edit. I was going to color-code the world! I set up an Instagram account... and that is literally all I did. My pantry is still a chaotic land of expired lentils, and the Instagram grid is just... blank. Empty. Judging me.

Why is it so hard?! I look at everyone else on my feed and they all seem to have Found It. They’re all "living their truth" and "monetizing their joy" and looking incredibly smug in linen aprons. How do they do it? Is there a secret meeting I wasn't invited to?

I desperately want to leap into something new. My current job is... fine. The salary is lovely (it pays for the pens and the un-filed tax reliefs!), but my soul is currently at a 0% battery notification. It’s just not Me.

I’ve Googled "How to Find Your Passion" (obviously), and the internet—which is usually so helpful—just tells me to "Do what you love!" BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT I LOVE ANYMORE! (Sorry for shouting, but the frustration is real.)

Every time I think about it, I just feel... deflated. Heavy. Like I’m stuck in a giant vat of marshmallow fluff. I try to work, but I end up doom-scrolling on social media for three hours instead, which is basically the mental health equivalent of eating a box of stale crackers for dinner.

I think I need help. Or a sign from the universe. Or a very, very powerful prayer. I’m just waiting for that "click" moment... I just hope it happens before I buy another set of neon highlighters I’ll never use.

Does anyone else feel like they’re still waiting for their life to start? Or is it just me and my empty YouTube channel?

The "Passion Hunt" Tally:

 * YouTube Channels abandoned: 2

 * Instagram accounts with zero posts: 2

 * Google searches that led to more confusion: 4,892

 * Current Mood: In desperate need of a map (and perhaps a hug).

This is when I feel like I'm stuck in my 20s

Current Status: Chronologically 30-something, Mentally 22 (and slightly confused about it)

Is it just me, or did everyone else get a memo about "Becoming a Grown-Up" that I somehow missed?

I look in the mirror and I see a Mother of Three. A Working Woman. A Wife. I have a calendar! I buy detergent in bulk! But inside? Inside, I am still definitely in my twenties, wandering around a department store, staring longingly at a pair of impossibly high heels and thinking, “Yes, I definitely need these for my glamorous life,” before remembering that my "glamorous life" currently involves scraping dried pasta off the ceiling.

It’s not that I don't love my kids—I adore them! They are my world! But sometimes... I just want to be Me. Without the "Mom" prefix.

I’ve been spiraling. Did I not "Live My Best Life" enough back then? Was I supposed to be more... wild?

I blame Spotify. Specifically, I blame Michael Learns to Rock. I just listened to “Blue Night” and honestly, I’ve been compromised. The lyrics! The romance! Have you seen the video? They are literally serenading girls outside their apartments! Actual serenading! Why did this not happen to me? Did I miss the Serenade Window? Was there a sign-up sheet?!

I started thinking about my own "wild" youth. And by wild, I mean... The Library. Yes, you heard me. My friends and I were regulars. We went almost every day—not just for the intellectual stimulation, obviously, but for the Air Conditioning. It was bliss. We felt so rebellious, gliding through the streets on a single motorcycle. Three of us. On one bike. It’s a miracle we weren't arrested! We thought we were the Easy Rider crew, but with more library cards.

And the highlight? The Kebab. From that specific bakery. We would sit there, windswept from our three-person motorcycle journey, eating kebabs like they were Michelin-starred delicacies.

It was so sweet. It was so incredibly stupid. And now I’m sitting here, laughing at myself while my three kids probably plot to turn the sofa into a fortress.

Tell me I’m not the only one? Does anyone else feel like a teenager trapped in a "Responsible Adult" costume?

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The "Why I am Not an Adult" Checklist:

• Song that triggered the crisis: Blue Night by MLTR (10/10 for romance, 0/10 for my emotional stability).

• Most Dangerous Youthful Act: Fitting three people on a moped to go read the news in the AC.

• Current Craving: That specific bakery kebab. (And maybe a serenade. Is that too much to ask?)