The Universe Said “You’re a Writer” Before I Did
On burnout, following my passion, and being invited into a room I didn’t think I belonged in.
Welcome to part 1 of my new series — Burnout BFF Presents: Life After Tech — where I’ll be sharing stories and adventures from my reinvention journey after quitting corporate tech to follow my creative passions.
When Burnout Meets Serendipity
Last week, I went to my first writing retreat—something that would’ve felt completely unfathomable to my burned-out corporate self just a few months ago. Not only did the retreat itself feel like a dream, but the path that led me there was filled with small, serendipitous moments that I could never have planned.
It all started in June 2025. I had recently moved to Seattle—exhausted but cautiously hopeful after recovering from a deep burnout from my job in big tech.
I was so drained that I made a commitment to myself: I would only do things that felt healing to my inner creative. Corporate politics and meaningless tasks had sucked the soul out of me, and after reading The Artist’s Way, I decided to find myself again through art.
Saying Yes to Creativity Again
I started small—signing up for makerspace workshops at the library, planning outings around free museum days, taking a handbuilding pottery class, and researching every local art nonprofit I could find. That’s when I learned about Seattle’s monthly art walks—where you wander through galleries, look at art, and…socialize?
The thing is, I love art and museums, but I had no idea what you’re actually supposed to do in a gallery. Whenever I passed one, I’d peek inside but never go in—curious but indimidated. It also didn’t help that they were usually empty, and I’d feel awkward just standing there pretending I knew what I was looking at.
As an introvert used to hiding behind screens and Zoom meetings, going to an in-person event alone took some effort—and a pep talk. In my head, art walks were filled with fabulously dressed artists sipping wine and saying profound things about brushstrokes—definitely not my usual vibe. But I had promised myself I’d try, and I needed new friends in a new city. So I sucked it up and went.
Little did I know that stepping out of my comfort zone that night would open a whole new chapter for me.
Spotting a Kindred Spirit
At first, I did what any anxious introvert would in an unfamiliar setting: hovered near the snack table, nibbling free cheese cubes in the corner. But eventually, I warmed up—and my old MBA networking skills kicked in.
I found myself chatting about astrology and energy with a spirited art collector (he was a Pisces), learning from a curator how artists sell their work at local cafés, buying a zine from a Gen Z artist who reminded me of my younger self, and talking to a guy with long purple hair who did puppetry. It was unexpectedly fun—but after a few hours, I was ready to wander off on my own. That’s when I stumbled upon Christiana.
She immediately caught my eye: live-painting an oil piece (a medium I’ve always wanted to try) and an Asian woman openly creating art in public—something I rarely saw, coming from a social circle mostly made up of friends in corporate jobs.
We started talking, and it clicked right away. We both came from tech, both burned out under toxic management, both left to rediscover ourselves through creativity. She was warm, open, and felt like someone I’d known for years.
The Invitation
We met for coffee a few weeks later and dove into a deep conversation about work, art, identity, and healing. We shared frustrations as Asian women trying to survive in systems that were never built for us. But we also connected over the joy of rediscovering our creative sides—and the courage it takes to start again.
We both love art in all kinds of mediums, and I was inspired by how fully Christiana invested in her creative life—from visual art and music to photography and film—always seeking, and sometimes building, her own little creative community along the way. The experiences weren’t always smooth, but they were full of interesting stories and lessons. I shared that same desire: to explore and find my own community of people who are committed to building an intentional and creative life.
And that’s when she told me she was organizing a small writing retreat with a few like-minded women—and invited me to join as the fourth member.
I was stunned. Just weeks earlier, I was researching art residencies and dreaming about someday building up enough of a portfolio to apply. Now, here I was being invited—no application, no approval process—just genuine connection.
It felt like the universe winking at me.
Redefining “Real”
Writing retreats had always felt like something reserved for people in MFA programs or academia. I had always dreamed of being a writer but told myself it wasn’t practical—that it wouldn’t pay the bills. So I consumed other writers’ memoirs instead of writing my own.
It’s funny how we build these constructs around identity—as if we’re not “real” writers or artists unless someone else says so, or unless we’re making money from it. I’ve been writing poetry and drawing manga since I was five, yet somehow I never allowed myself to claim that identity. The truth is simple: if we make art, we are artists.
Still, I caught myself calling myself an aspiring writer. Being invited to that retreat helped shatter that narrative. Christiana reminded me that we don’t need permission from institutions or systems. If we want to create, we can simply gather and do it.
It sounds obvious, but after years in corporate, it’s a hard mindset to unlearn. We’re taught to polish résumés, mask ourselves in interviews, and prove our worth through performance reviews. That’s how we’re conditioned to believe success works.
But this journey—my “reinvention gap year”—keeps showing me otherwise.
The Lesson the Universe Keeps Sending
Sometimes just being yourself is enough. You don’t need to chase validation or wait for permission. Opportunities come when you lead with curiosity and genuine connection—and when you follow what lights you up.
I’m not an “aspiring” anything anymore.
I am a writer and an artist.
And this was only the beginning.
This is Part 1 of Burnout BFF Presents: Life After Tech—my stories from leaving corporate tech to explore a creative career✨ In Part 2, I’ll share how a small writing retreat taught me to trust my voice, be vulnerable, and find community through creativity. Subscribe and drop a comment if you want to join me for Part 2!
"Christiana reminded me that we don’t need permission from institutions or systems. If we want to create, we can simply gather and do it."
Love this!
Find peace, ease and serenity in your writing 🤗❤️