Body Positivity: When Self-Love Becomes Self-Destruction

Let’s talk about something that’s probably going to sting a little — but it might also change your life.

You’ve probably heard it all before:

“Love yourself at any size.”

“Every body is beautiful.”

“Embrace who you are.”

And to a point, yes — of course you should love yourself. But here’s the real question:

Are you truly loving yourself? Or are you just avoiding the hard conversations you need to have with yourself?

This isn’t a hit piece. It’s not about shaming or forcing anyone to look a certain way. It’s about waking up — before it’s too late.

When Positivity Becomes a Mask

There’s a growing trend online of people calling unhealthy habits “empowerment.” But too often, what’s hiding behind that mask is pain, trauma, and a deep fear of judgment. We tell ourselves we’re confident. We tell others to accept us as we are. But sometimes… we’re just trying to make peace with choices we know are slowly destroying us.

Loving your body is important — but real self-love isn’t just acceptance. It’s accountability. It’s asking hard questions like:

• Is this lifestyle going to let me live the life I truly want?

• Am I healthy? Not just “okay for now,” but actually well?

• Am I fighting for myself, or just fighting anyone who makes me feel uncomfortable?

The Pressure to Conform — Even in "Non-Conformity"

We see it everywhere. Influencers preaching self-acceptance… until the sponsorships roll in and suddenly, it’s nose jobs, fillers, and gym selfies.

Or people saying “I love my body!” while ignoring health issues that are slowly catching up with them — until one day, they don’t wake up.

Let’s be real: the world has made it incredibly hard to just exist.

Some societies push thinness. Others glorify curves. Some push filters and surgeries until everyone starts to look like the same person. And the more we chase these extremes — even in the name of "body positivity" — the more we lose ourselves.

This Isn’t About Fatphobia or Beauty Standards — It’s About Surviving

You don’t have to believe in religion to understand that what you feed your mind and body shapes your future. But if you do believe in something greater — ask yourself if treating your body recklessly is honoring that.

If not for faith, then at least do it for joy. Real joy — not the kind that comes from one more dopamine rush, one more viral post, one more excuse to eat whatever, whenever. Think long-term. Think clarity. Think about waking up in your 60s, 70s, still moving freely, still living fully.

Because yes — obesity can kill you.

So can starvation.

So can depression masked as “self-love.”

The truth is out there. Statistics, studies, stories — they’re not hard to find. What’s hard is facing them.

Social Media Is a Trap — And You're Not the Only One Caught

You’re not weak if you’ve been manipulated. We all have. The entire system is designed to make you want more, feel less, and compare endlessly. It rewards the insecure. It feeds off your confusion. It’s not your fault — but it is your responsibility to start waking up.

Try a detox. Just a few days without social media. You’ll be surprised how addicted your body feels to scrolling, comparing, consuming. It’s a little scary — like breaking out of a hypnotic routine. But once you do… you start to see clearly. You start to remember who you were before all the noise.

Real Self-Love Is Quiet, Honest, and Brave

It’s not a hashtag. It’s not a selfie. It’s not saying “I’m fine the way I am” while secretly feeling stuck.

Real self-love is looking in the mirror and saying:

“I deserve better. I want better. And I’m going to fight for it — even if it’s uncomfortable.”

You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t need to hate yourself to change. You just need to want a better life more than you want to protect your ego.

So yes — love your body. But also… love your mind. Love your future. Love your soul.

Because self-love without self-awareness?

That’s not love.

That’s denial.

The Obsession with Luxury: Status vs. Quality

In today's world, the obsession with luxury goods has reached new heights, particularly with items like branded handbags. It’s interesting to note how people’s buying choices are more influenced by logos and brand recognition than by the actual quality of the product. It made me reflect on how fabric and genuine leather, when crafted well, can offer durability and longevity. Why then, is it that so many people are willing to pay exorbitant prices for bags with logos, when a simpler, no-brand option might last just as long, or even longer?

The truth is, it's not just about quality anymore; it’s about status. Owning an item with a well-known logo is a form of validation. People feel a sense of pride when they purchase a luxury item, not necessarily because of the craftsmanship, but because of what that item represents. It’s a way to signal to others, "Look at how successful I am," or "I’ve made it." It's a social tool. This concept is particularly evident in the world of luxury handbags, where the cost often skyrockets because of the logo. Take a designer bag, for instance. A high-quality bag made with genuine leather could cost you $1,200 USD without a brand attached. Yet, if you add a logo to that same bag, the price could easily jump to $30,000 USD.

This phenomenon can be observed in different places—such as in popular culture, where luxury items are often idolized. For example, watching Korean dramas, I notice how women treat their branded bags as precious possessions, protecting them at all costs, while non-branded bags are simply tossed aside, sometimes even used to shield themselves from the rain. It’s fascinating. Aren’t these bags made from real leather? Doesn’t real leather have the strength to withstand wear and tear? So why this obsession with keeping the bags in pristine condition?

Moreover, another thought that crossed my mind is the fact that many luxury brands now produce their goods in countries like China, where labor costs are lower. The prices of these bags, despite being manufactured in countries with cheaper labor, still remain sky-high. It’s a business model that maximizes profits by paying workers less and charging consumers more. The disparity between production cost and retail price is staggering, but it's a truth many are blind to.

As I reflect on these observations, I can’t help but think about my own perspective. I’m 30 now, and I find myself observing people’s behavior and reactions with a curious mind. I try not to judge, though. I understand that everyone’s journey is different, and we all come from unique backgrounds that shape the way we see the world. We can’t expect everyone to have the same mindset or understanding, especially when it comes to wealth and status.

I find it particularly interesting to watch how "nepo babies" (children of rich and famous parents) behave. They have never had to experience what it's like to build from the ground up. For them, life comes with certain expectations and privileges that many others never had. I don’t want to sound judgmental, but it’s clear that their mindset is shaped by their environment. They are often trapped in a world where the only thing that matters is reputation. They may work hard in their own way, but their primary worry seems to be maintaining their status, rather than the daily struggles that many of us face.

One person I find particularly intriguing is Jeffrey Star, the YouTuber. Despite his controversial history, there’s something humble about his approach to wealth that I admire. He buys luxury items, sure, but it doesn’t feel like he’s doing it for the status. It feels like he worked hard to get there, and that makes all the difference. His demeanor shows a level of appreciation for what he has, which contrasts with people who flaunt their wealth without understanding the value of hard work.

On the flip side, I know of a girl who is constantly in and out of high-end shops, buying things without even looking at them, as if they’re disposable. She owns warehouses filled with items she never uses, and yet doesn’t seem to appreciate the value of the items she purchases. Her relationship with luxury goods is purely about consumption and not about valuing the things she owns. This type of behavior is quite different from those who have had to work hard for every cent. It’s fascinating how different people interact with the same wealth.

In contrast, there’s something refreshing about people who come from humble beginnings. I’ve met individuals who are poor but carry themselves with such pride and dignity. They don’t feel ashamed of their background; instead, they embrace the value of hard work and dedication. I’ve met someone who, despite being born into a poor family, has worked tirelessly to support everyone around him. His story is one of resilience and determination. He has earned everything he has, and it shows in his humble, yet unwavering attitude towards life.

And then, there are those who were once average and then became rich, often through social media or entertainment. This is a fascinating category because they often go through a strange transformation once they hit it big. Some may start out humble, but as their bank accounts grow, they begin to act like snobby individuals. They put on airs, perhaps without realizing it, and some only humble themselves when their popularity starts to fade. Human emotions and decisions, it seems, often follow similar patterns. People get used to their circumstances and their mindset shifts according to their experiences. But in the end, the root cause of most behaviors—whether they come from wealth or poverty—boils down to how a person was raised and the environment in which they grew up.

In the end, the obsession with luxury is not just about material items—it’s about the meaning we attach to them. Whether it’s for status, security, or the simple desire to feel appreciated, our choices often reflect the values we’ve been taught and the paths we've walked in life. As much as we might judge others for their choices, it’s important to remember that everyone’s journey is different. We’re all just navigating through life, trying to make sense of the world around us. And in the end, maybe that’s all any of us can do.

Conclusion: Embracing Minimalism

In my case, I prefer to invest in quality. I don’t want to constantly buy new things, only to have them break down after a while. Instead, I want the items I buy to last. My journey toward minimalism has helped me realize that I don’t need excessive possessions to be content. I don’t need to wear something different every day or constantly buy new things to feel validated. In fact, clutter only creates distraction. I would much rather live with a smaller collection of meaningful items that enhance my life, rather than surround myself with stuff that doesn’t truly serve me.

Minimalism works for me because it allows me to live with peace of mind. The world around us is already cluttered enough—physically and mentally. I’ve taken a break from social media, and that’s helped me realize how much we can be consumed by the idea of status and constantly trying to keep up with others. I hope that others, especially those who are obsessed with status, can step back and ask themselves: "Is this the life I want to continue living?" Too many people are focused on external validation, leading to anxiety, stress, and in the worst cases, depression. We've seen it happen to celebrities who, despite their wealth, struggled with mental health issues because they couldn't escape the expectations placed on them. It’s a reminder that material wealth doesn’t guarantee happiness or peace.

Furthermore, some people live in constant debt due to poor spending habits, but they rarely reflect on the consequences. It’s easy to get caught up in the cycle of buying things you don’t need, especially when you think you can afford it. But true wealth is measured not by how much you spend or the items you own, but by the choices you make and the way you treat others.

At the end of the day, I prefer to see people who work hard and appreciate the things they have, rather than those who merely flaunt their wealth without understanding the true value of hard work. Humans are predictable in many ways, but it’s the ones who are grounded, humble, and sincere in their efforts that truly inspire me. If we can all focus on what truly matters and embrace a more mindful approach to life, perhaps we can create a better, more fulfilling world for ourselves and those around us.

Why I Decided to Cancel My Sun Life Insurance After 6 Years of Loyalty

For six years, I faithfully paid into my Sun Life insurance, but it came with struggles to keep it up. I was pressured into signing up by Sun Life, and the more I paid, the more it began to feel like a trap. The guilt trips and promises of security left me with nothing but stress and confusion. I was locked into a system that seemed designed to keep me paying without offering any real peace of mind.

Over the years, I found it increasingly difficult to keep my premiums up. With just one income coming from my husband and my own side hustle, the payments were a constant source of worry. Each year, I had to pay RM3000, and I realized that in 11 years, I would have paid RM33,000 for something I didn’t even need. In the back of my mind, I kept thinking: What if that RM15k runs out? I got that RM15k from my previous insurance, which my mom made for me years ago before she canceled it. I then passed it down to my daughter's bank account.

It all started with a call from Sun Life, telling me about a package I needed to take for my daughter’s future. I told them no, but they insisted and even guilt-tripped me into taking it, saying that my daughter would get a lot of money if something happened to me, helping her financially in the future. But the aftermath only gave me headaches, constant worrying, and stress to keep up with the payments. I’m not like other people who live in debt; I like to be debt-free, but I felt like I was fooling myself. So, of course, I continued listening because I love my daughter, and money was tight at my end. But it was weird that when I had my RM15k and put it in my daughter's bank, they suddenly called me. It was obvious they were trying to take my money with their false promises. But out of love for my daughter, I gave in. That’s how I started being manipulated into joining this Sun Life cult.

Over the years with Sun Life, I slowly began to think more clearly. Yes, death is unpredictable, but so is life. I’m still young. If I were to pass away, the funeral could cost around RM15k, but in Malaysia, there are ways to reduce costs if you're good at researching and preparing for the "what-ifs" earlier in life, so your future generations don’t suffer. Sure, government hospitals may be slower, but they’re still affordable. I understand why people complain, but remember, we are all poor, so stop complaining if you can’t afford a private hospital. Also, I have family members working in government hospitals, and I know I could count on them if anything went wrong.

In the end, I had to ask myself: Was all this stress worth it? Was it worth the endless payments when I didn’t even need it to begin with? The insurance was supposed to provide peace of mind, but it only drained me emotionally and financially every day! I realized that my insurance wasn’t providing what I needed, so I decided to cancel it, and I don't regret it at all. Though I lost about half of my money due to cancellation fees, I know it’s better to deal with it now than to keep stressing over it. I can always start over from scratch because I’m still in my 30s. If I were in my 50s, then yes, I’d probably be screwed because it's hard getting a job with this age, but it’s still not impossible. I’m lucky I made this decision now, before I literally died from the stress and heart attack that this whole insurance situation was giving me.

I know that insurance can be beneficial for some, especially those with medical issues or people who want to buy a house or car. But that’s not me because there’s always another way without needing insurance. My husband and I decided we don’t need a car or a house right now. We’ll rent a place and use public transport. If we find a suitable rental home in KL, we might consider rental insurance, but that’s something for future me to handle.

I also started thinking about my daughter’s future constantly. If I could change my past, I would have taken my daughter’s insurance money and just put it in her bank so the interest could grow. I wish I’d learned about the importance of bank interest in my 30s. I wish someone had told me this when I was growing up. Instead, my parents never taught me how to manage money, and now I’m stuck playing catch-up.

But here’s where my frustration really kicks in: The insurance industry, especially Sun Life, is supposed to build on trust—trust that was shattered for me. I’ve heard countless stories, one of which was when someone's loved one died. They knew the person had insurance from Sun Life, only for the insurance company to refuse payouts. The beneficiaries were left to pay funeral costs out of their own savings, despite having been loyal to the insurance company for years. Sure, this doesn’t happen to everyone, but the fact that it happens at all makes me lose all faith in the system. Another story was about a person who wanted to cancel their policy with Sun Life after having it for just 2 years. They were told by their financial advisor that they shouldn't cancel their policy, even though they had the right to cancel. I found out that the financial advisor needed the person to keep the policy for at least 3 years to earn their commission. How greedy is that?

There’s a culture in the insurance industry that’s all about sales. I experienced this firsthand. I went to Bundusan CIMB Bank, which was closest to my house because I want to avoid going to KK which was always jam on a weekdays, just to update my card for the new "tap to pay" feature. It should have been a quick visit, but it turned into a nightmare. The bank employee saw that I had RM20k in my account, which my husband and I had worked hard to save, and asked me to meet with one of their financial advisors. She immediately tried to convince me to "upgrade" my Sun Life insurance. I told her I already had one, but she insisted it was necessary for "better benefits." She didn’t correct me or explain in detail that it was a different policy, so I ended up thinking it was my current policy because she used the word "upgrade" and not "getting another insurance."

I was kept there for over 2 hours, just to "upgrade" my policy. But did have my suspicion about why I was asked to pay another RM3000 to upgrade my current policy so in total I paid RM6000 on the spot using my daughter's savings. After everything was done and we said our farewells, I decided to check the Sun Life app for this "upgraded" policy and was shocked to find that I was being charged for 2 policies! TWO! I couldn’t believe it. This employee, whom I foolishly had trusted with something as simple as updating my card, was now draining my hard-earned money. Instead of paying RM3000 in a year now I have to pay RM6000 in a year for two policies! She had tricked me into getting a second insurance policy, purely for her commission. I realized I had been tricked again, and yes, I’m naive—say what you want about me. When I realized what had happened, I went to my usual bank at KK near Suria Sabah, and luckily my financial advisor there canceled the extra policy under the free-look option. I felt a huge relief, but I lost RM3000 because of the opening fee. My financial advisor even said it was unnecessary to have another insurance policy when my old one was still ongoing and wondered why that employee is stupid enough to tricked me into doing it.

This kind of behavior is the reason I lost all trust in insurance. Insurance companies and their advisors treat their clients like cash cows, always looking for ways to make a quick sale, even if it means sacrificing integrity. It’s all about putting money in their pockets, not the well-being of the people who put their trust in the system. For me, it was a scam, plain and simple. And I’m not the only one. I’ve heard too many stories of people being taken advantage of by Sun Life, people who were loyal to their policies only to have them fail when they needed them most.

I’m done with all of that. Because of this stupid insurance, I made the decision to cancel my policy, even though I lost half my money due to the cancellation/surrender fee. It’s best I just canceled it anyway because I don’t want to constantly stress and be loyal to a company that only steals. I don’t need insurance like this in my life, and I certainly don’t need an industry that uses guilt and manipulation to get people to keep paying.

Now, my focus is on my daughter’s future. I want to teach her the financial lessons I’ve learned, even if it’s a slow process. I won’t expect much from her at this age, but I’ll continue to remind her about the importance of managing money, saving, and planning for the future. Things are only going to get more expensive, and I want her to be prepared when she grows up. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure she’s set up for success. And if she needs help, I’ll be there for her.

Lastly, if you get a call saying they're from a certain insurance. Just hang up and blocked. 

Stop Calling It Art: When AI Replaces Effort With Laziness

Let’s get real for a second. I'm not here to sugarcoat. I'm tired of pretending AI "art" is some kind of revolutionary gift to creativity. Because the truth is, it's being used less like a tool and more like a shortcut. A way to skip the time, the learning, the failure, the growth that real artists go through.

Billboards, social media ads, posters, even Shopee listings; everywhere you look, AI-generated images are being pushed as if they’re meaningful creations. Companies do it. Small businesses do it. Even random online sellers trying to make RM1 off AI art. And guess what? It’s not inspiring. It’s not clever. It’s just lazy.

Why Use AI? Let’s Be Honest.

Let’s not pretend. People use AI because it’s fast, cheap, and doesn’t need human connection or skill. No brainstorming with a designer. No paying a fair rate. Just a few prompt words, a few clicks, and suddenly you're a "creator."

Sure, there are pros:

• You save money.

• You get instant results.

• You don’t need to know how lighting, anatomy, color theory, or storytelling works.

But at what cost?

When companies choose AI over real creatives, it sends one message loud and clear: “We care more about saving money than creating quality.” It’s not innovation. It’s cost-cutting disguised as progress.

An Insult to Artists, Designers & Creative Work

As someone who understands how long it takes to learn composition, how hard it is to study marketing, branding, and visual communication. Seeing people throw it all away for a free AI app is just... insulting.

There are people out here spending years mastering their style. People who pour their soul into their work. They don’t just “make something pretty.” They think about your audience. Your message. Your brand identity. The kind of emotion you want people to feel when they see your poster or product.

AI can’t do that. It can only guess based on patterns. It doesn’t care about your story. It’s not here to help your brand grow with integrity. But sure... if you want your brand to look rushed, soulless, and inconsistent, go ahead. Use AI. It’ll reflect exactly how much you don’t value creative depth.

The Ghibli AI Trend: A Violation in Plain Sight

And then there’s the Ghibli AI trend. Remember that? People started generating fake Ghibli-style art using AI. Some even fed other artists' work into the generator. One artist drew her own beautiful Ghibli-inspired piece, only to have someone take it, run it through AI, and claim it was “better.”

That’s not just disrespectful. That’s violating.

Imagine putting hours, days into a painting. Your emotions. Your vision. Your sweat. Only for someone to erase it with one click and say, “I improved it.” That’s not inspiration. That’s theft.

And let’s be honest: a lot of people wouldn’t even care. Because at the end of the day, it’s about convenience, not craft. Fast food art. Cheap. Quick. Disposable. And totally forgettable.

We’re Tired. But We’re Still Here.

Artists are tired. Tired of being undervalued. Tired of explaining why this matters. Tired of seeing passion replaced with shortcuts. But we’re still here. Creating. Studying. Evolving.

I’ve seen artists break down because their portfolios, years of effort got ignored, while someone with no skill just generated 100 AI images in an hour and got viral attention. It’s heartbreaking. And worse? Some of those AI images were trained using stolen artwork from actual artists who never consented.

Using AI Responsibly? Totally Fine.

Let me be clear: I’m not against AI. I’ve used it when I had art block. It gave me a push, a vibe, a spark. Sometimes it helps me imagine angles I hadn’t thought of. But I would never post that and say “This is mine.” I would never sell it. I would never act like I created something out of thin air with my words.

Pinterest exists. Instagram exists. Even artists browse for ideas. But when you start claiming, profiting, and pretending, that’s when it crosses a line.

There’s a Difference Between Using & Exploiting

Using AI to explore? Cool. Using AI to learn? Fine. Using AI to replace real work and make money off it without giving credit or effort? That’s low.

When someone posts AI art and says, “Look what I made,” I cringe. When they sell it to others who don’t even know free AI tools exist? I gag. Because it’s not about art. It’s about cashing in. And honestly, it’s disgusting.

If You Use AI, Just Be Real

I don’t hate people who use AI. I hate dishonesty. If you make AI art, just be upfront about it. Say, “I used AI.” Own it. Be transparent. That’s the bare minimum. That way, people can make their own choices. Respect is a two-way street.

But if you lie, pretend, and profit off it like you’re some visionary creator? That’s when you lose all credibility. And no, putting some grainy filter over an AI piece doesn’t make it yours either.

Final Thought: Artists Deserve More

AI is not going away. I accept that. It’s a powerful tool. But that doesn’t mean we should throw real artists under the bus. If you truly value creativity, then pay attention to where your art comes from. Support artists. Pay designers fairly. Stop treating creativity like it’s a vending machine.

Because if the world keeps choosing fast, free, and fake over thoughtful, human-made art... we’re not just losing jobs.

We’re losing respect.

VGen's Dumb Invite-Only System Needs to End!

In recent times, I’ve been reflecting on the issues surrounding VGen’s verification process for artists, and honestly, it’s hard to ignore how broken the system feels. VGen's decision to limit verified status to only those with an invitation code is not just unfair—it’s downright frustrating. The idea that anyone can get verified simply by receiving an invitation, regardless of their skill level, is a system that feels lazy and inadequate. Worse yet, it undermines talented artists who truly deserve recognition for their work.

As an introverted artist, the thought of begging for an invitation feels like a slap in the face. Why should I have to prove myself over and over just to be considered legitimate? Shouldn’t the platform be the one verifying artists properly instead of relying on a biased, closed-off invitation system? This approach not only excludes talented people but also gives the title of "verified artist" to individuals who may not necessarily have the skill or passion that should define it.

Recent events have only highlighted the flaws in this system. The recent scandal involving a fake emergency commission serves as a prime example of how VGen's current verification system is failing. When anyone can get an invitation code, it opens the door to scammers and fraudulent behavior, as we saw with someone who stole money by faking an emergency commission. This wouldn’t happen if the platform took the time to verify who they were letting in.

If VGen truly wants to protect both the integrity of their platform and the artists who rely on it, they need to take verification more seriously. The platform should be doing more than just handing out invites to anyone who asks. They should be looking into artists' work, reviewing commissions, and verifying progress to ensure legitimacy. This would help ensure that only qualified, potential artists are given the "verified" title.

As an artist who believes in the value of real, hard-earned skill, I can’t help but feel disappointed by how VGen is handling things. Their failure to thoroughly vet artists makes it difficult to trust the platform, and I know I’m not the only one feeling this way. It’s clear that they need to overhaul their approach, prioritizing more thorough checks for artists who want to get verified, rather than relying on a broken invitation system.

If VGen wants to regain the trust of its community and avoid being seen as clumsy or negligent, they need to change their policies immediately. No more "invite-only" systems—just thorough, legitimate verification processes that will allow real artists to rise to the top.

Let’s hope that other platforms are paying attention and learning from VGen’s mistakes. It’s time to stop gatekeeping, stop relying on invitations, and start verifying real artists based on merit and integrity.

What I Learned as a Freelance Artist in 5 Years

Being a freelance artist for five years has been a journey filled with growth, challenges, and unexpected lessons. When I first started, I had no idea what I was getting into—I just knew I loved creating art and wanted to make a living from it.

The Early Days

I started freelancing when my husband couldn’t work due to COVID, and money was tight. I decided to draw again, noticing that streaming was on the rise, meaning streamers might need emotes and other artwork. My first client was my friend, who asked me to create five emotes for RM300. It was a high amount because he lived in New Zealand, so I calculated the price slightly higher to cover PayPal fees. That first job led to more opportunities, especially when I started streaming on Twitch myself. Through mutual connections, I slowly gained recognition.

Learning to Adapt

Pricing was one of my biggest struggles. I doubted my own art quality and didn’t know whether I was charging too high or too low. Eventually, I based my pricing on the Malaysian economy—asking myself if I would pay for my own work at that price. I also realized that if I wanted this to be a full-time job, I needed to price accordingly. If it were just a part-time gig, lower prices might have made more sense.

The Challenges

There was a time I considered quitting. Business was slow, and I had to wait half a year for a single client. But I valued my customers because they chose me, so I always gave them my best service. During slow periods, I kept myself inspired by looking at other artists’ work and making sure I didn’t get stuck in an art block.

I also tried different platforms to get clients. I created a virtual business card through Carrd and even opened a Shopee store. Surprisingly, Shopee brought in a lot of customers. To avoid issues, I made sure to have clear Terms of Service (TOS) so buyers knew exactly what they were getting.

Different Types of Clients

Some clients make freelancing a great experience—especially those who give me creative freedom and time. I do my best work when I’m not rushed. I’m not an AI that can produce a drawing in one second.

Then, there are the difficult clients. Some demand too much and rush me, which led me to stop offering free sketches. I learned from other artists’ experiences and added a clause in my TOS stating that excessive revisions require additional payment. One of my biggest mistakes was accepting a job to create a 20-frame GIF for only RM50. If I had properly calculated my time and effort, it was worth much more. But because I feared disappointing my client, I just did it. This experience taught me that it’s crucial to discuss expectations with clients and know my own limits before accepting a commission.

I also had another bad experience with a client who made their own pricing. Besides art, I also do basic graphic design, and they wanted to pay me only RM200 for seven poster designs. It was frustrating because the amount of work didn’t match the price, but at the time, this was when I realize it's okay to decline a commission because you value your work and time. This was another lesson in knowing my worth and standing firm in my pricing.

Unexpected Client Gestures

One of my sweetest client experiences was on Shopee. I was selling premade panels for just RM3, and one buyer purchased another set just as a tip. It was my first tip, and even though it never happened again, I was really happy. Tipping culture doesn’t really exist in Malaysia, but I don’t mind. Whether a client tips or not, I feel blessed that they hired me and bought my art in the first place.

The Rewards & Looking Ahead

One of my proudest moments was setting my emote price at RM30 and having a client pay me RM500—the highest amount I had ever received at that time. That one client made me so happy. Although I haven’t had many clients, moments like that remind me why I love freelancing.

For now, I plan to continue freelancing until I save enough money to move to Kuala Lumpur for a stable job. Even after settling in KL, I’ll keep freelancing part-time. While I know my experience as a freelance artist may not help me get a traditional job, I still value the journey it has given me.

Final Advice

Make yourself clear and be firm in your own belief in your art. Don’t give false promises—if you can’t do something, be honest with your client. It’s not fair to them or to yourself. Having a solid TOS and knowing your worth will help you navigate the ups and downs of freelancing.

Freelancing isn’t easy, but if it’s something you love, it’s worth sticking with.

Taking Care of Business: An Unpaid Reality Check

Helping out in a family business feels like a privilege, especially when it’s your in-laws’ shop. I wanted to impress them, to show that I could run things smoothly. But I quickly realized that running a store isn’t the hardest part—it’s finding and managing the right employees. A shoe store needs active staff, people who can move, find stock fast, and handle peak seasons efficiently. That’s easier said than done.

The Struggles of Keeping Order

My role was mainly to supervise, making sure the employees did their work. If there were flaws—dirty displays, misplaced stock—I had to step in and guide them. But stock kept moving around because different employees had their own way of doing things. Now that I’ve been away for a while, focusing on my freelancing and housewife duties, coming back is stressful. Every time, I have to relearn where everything is and make sure they don’t undo whatever order I try to maintain.

Managing employees and organizing the store are the real headaches. It’s chaotic. They used to have multiple shops, but now, with only one left, all the stock from the closed locations got crammed into one space. The storeroom is a mess, so packed that you need someone skinny just to squeeze in and find things.

The Challenge of Family Dynamics

If my husband and I had full control, I know we could make the store more efficient. Right now, it takes too long to get things done. At first, I didn’t want to change much—I had to understand how the shop worked. But after 11 years, I see exactly what could be improved. The problem? My mother-in-law.

She’s the reason things stay messy. My husband has argued with her, asking her to focus on accounting and let us handle the shop, but she insists on being involved. Instead of letting us fix one problem at a time, she adds extra tasks and derails our focus. She also wrongly scolds employees for things that aren’t really their fault. Since she’s family, I usually keep my mouth shut, but her way of doing things makes life harder for everyone. Ironically, she’s also the one who forces lazy workers to find stock, which is sometimes necessary. Some employees deliberately put shoes in the wrong boxes or hide stock to avoid doing work, which creates more confusion.

What I’ve Learned About Business

One thing I noticed about handling customers is that it follows a pattern. At first, I wasn’t sure if I was giving the right answers, but over time, I realized most customers ask the same types of questions. As long as you know store policies—fixed prices, one-day exchanges, no bargaining—it’s easy to handle them. after all, we have to keep the shop open, put food on the table, maintain a roof over our heads, and pay our employees. We don’t waste time on customers who keep second-guessing their purchase when there are others who need real assistance.

Through this experience, I’ve learned that I could do better if I had control. I can’t predict every challenge, but I know I’d focus on making things easier—better layouts, efficient stock management, and proper organization. Right now, things are unclean and cluttered, which I hate. A clean, organized shop means faster service and less stress.

The Reality of Working Unpaid

I help out because of my husband. But he doesn’t take the business seriously. If the shop is busy, he works. If it’s quiet, he disappears—going out for smokes instead of using the downtime to clean or reorganize. He blindly scolds employees like his mother does, instead of handling issues properly. It’s frustrating to watch.

If this were my own business, I’d do things differently. Realistically, I can’t start a business with no money, but I’ve thought about what I’d do if I could. A well-planned layout, an easy-access storeroom, proper labels, and minimal clutter so customers focus on the products. Since shoe boxes always get dented, I’d find a way to store them better, maybe with proper racks.

No Regrets, Just Experience

Even though I don’t get paid, I don’t regret helping. It’s all experience. One day, when I move to Kuala Lumpur and look for a job, this will help me land a retail position. Maybe one day, if I have the income, I’ll open my own business—a laundry shop instead of retail.

For anyone who finds themselves in an unpaid family business situation, my advice? Do it for the experience. And if nothing else, it shows your in-laws that you’re not just sitting at home doing nothing.

Minimalist without a choice.

Minimalism is often seen as a lifestyle choice, owning fewer things, decluttering, and focusing on what truly matters. But for me, it wasn’t a choice. It was a necessity.

Why I Have to Be a Minimalist

Money. It all comes down to money. My husband and I rely on a single income, his job at his family’s company, where he has no fixed off days. If he skips a day, he loses RM50, and to make things worse, the company car (which is also his family’s car) is often unavailable, making it hard for him to work consistently. His income is usually lower than RM1500 because most of the time, he can't even go to work. At our lowest, we only had RM500. We’re lucky to still live with our parents, but as parents in our 30s, it feels humiliating.

The Impact on Daily Life

I have to make conscious spending choices every day. I love buying things I want, but now it’s all about survival. Do I need this or not? Skincare is a must for me because without it, my dry skin leads to inflammation and itchiness. My daughter’s school expenses also take priority, with sudden fees appearing out of nowhere. We get by without worrying about food or shelter, but I truly wish we could stand on our own two feet with a stable lifestyle.

What I Had to Give Up

The biggest sacrifice was traveling. My husband and I once saved up and went on a backpacking trip to Bangkok. We were proud of how we managed everything on a budget, making it a fun and rewarding experience. But now, travel is out of the question. I also stopped buying clothes. My daily wear consists of torn clothes, but since I work from home, I don’t mind. I have two decent outfits for going out, so I basically look like a cartoon character repeating the same clothes. Luckily, my husband isn’t materialistic and doesn’t care how I look most of the time.

The Hardest Part

The hardest part is not having the money to regain our independence. We used to live on our own before we got married, renting a small place and working retail jobs. We were so happy and free back then, but we were childish with money. Looking back, we regret not saving more. We now realize that living simply while saving a little could have made our lives happier in the long run. The best feeling was knowing we did it on our own.

The Plan to Escape This Cycle

Right now, our goal is to save enough money to move to Kuala Lumpur and work hard to build a better future. The plan is for my daughter to stay with my parents in Sabah while we find stable jobs in KL. Once we’ve saved enough and she finishes high school, she can move in with us and continue her studies there.

The Biggest Challenges

Finding work and a place to rent will be the hardest parts. Food isn’t a major issue, we can survive on cheap meals, and honestly, I see it as an opportunity to lose weight. But we need jobs that pay well enough to sustain us in KL and allow us to save for the future.

The Mindset to Push Through

To succeed, we need to be independent and stay focused on our goal. Life in Sabah has been relatively easy, but we know that moving to another city means working harder and proving ourselves. We are ready to push through the struggles, knowing that one day, we will stand on our own again.

Minimalism isn’t a choice for me, it’s survival. But with the right mindset and determination, I hope that one day, it will no longer be a necessity, but a choice we make on our own terms.