scribbles from my notepad

The relationship I might have with my parents one day... I think it’ll only exist, healthily, once I move out. I can’t imagine ever becoming the peaceful, grounded, light-filled version of myself while I’m still here. Still stuck. Still absorbing the chaos. It’s not that I think my parents are evil. That’s not what this is. They’re just deeply broken people who were thrown into parenthood without the emotional tools or support systems they so clearly needed. They were not regulated. They didn’t have the language for softness. They didn’t know how to meet a child’s needs because no one had ever met theirs. And I know, in some buried, far-off part of my heart, that if they’d had the space, the rest, the right community, the right healing, maybe they would’ve parented differently. Maybe they wouldn’t have hurt me the way they did. Because when I think about the version of myself who was mentally unwell, who was drowning and barely holding on, I remember snapping at people I lo...

There’s something quiet powerful about writing that doesn’t demand your attention, but earns it anyway. It doesn’t shout. It doesn’t boast. It simply helps. That’s the kind of writing I fell in love with. For a long time, I thought content writing had to be loud, witty, clever. The kind that stops you mid-scroll with flashy headlines and buzzwords. But the more I wrote, the more I realized something deeper: the best writing often goes unnoticed, because it’s doing exactly what it’s meant to do. The beauty of writing that serves Whether it’s a blog, an onboarding screen, or a microcopy on a button, the purpose of good writing is to guide the reader. To move them from confusion to clarity, from hesitation to action. And that’s what I love most about content writing, and UX writing in particular. It’s not about glorifying the writer. It’s about serving the reader. It’s about knowing when to say more, and when to say nothing. It’s about word choices that feel human, structure t...

And maybe.. just maybe,  Real success looks like  Waking up excited for each day A calm and regulated nervous system  Having free time  Not comparing yourself to others Noticing the tiny daily miracles that others often miss Being able to accept your human-ness Staying kind Not taking life or yourself or anything so seriously  Knowing when to rest without guilt Laughing till your stomach hurts Taking long walks without a destination Feeling safe in your own company Letting go of timelines that don’t belong to you Being proud of how far you’ve come Learning to speak kindly to yourself Crying without shame Saying “no” without over-explaining Trusting that slow growth is still growth Creating without needing applause Letting joy be enough Letting peace be enough And maybe… just maybe, This is the kind of success that truly matters,  Not loud Not flashy Not measured in numbers, But felt deeply in your heart. A life that doesn’t just look good from t...

UX writing isn't just about clarity, it's about understanding human psychology. As a UX writer, your job goes beyond crafting clear microcopy. You need to understand how people think, feel, and behave, especially when they're distracted, stressed, or tired (which is often). When you incorporate psychological principles into your writing, it becomes more than just functional. It becomes impactful. Here are five psychological principles that have transformed how I approach UX writing: 1. Cognitive Load Humans can only process so much at a time. The more decisions users have to make, the more likely they are to leave your product. Keep this in mind when designing interfaces. Simplify processes, and reduce the number of choices wherever possible. This reduces cognitive load and helps guide users to where they need to go. 2. The Fogg Behavior Model According to this model, behavior is determined by three factors: Motivation Ability Trigger No matter how good your mic...

With the CA Final results being announced today, I felt it was the right time to share my CA journey. Dropping out of CA was the BEST thing I ever did.  I never imagined I’d be writing this. A few years ago, I was chasing Chartered Accountancy, the golden standard of “success” where I come from. It wasn’t just a course. It was the plan. The identity. The answer to every adult’s favorite question: “What are you going to do with your life?” And for a while, I believed it. I buried myself in books, solved problems, memorized laws, and went through the motions of what “ambition” looked like. But deep down, something never clicked. I wasn’t excited. I wasn’t curious. I was exhausted. Not just tired from studying.  Tired of pretending and tired of living a lie.  So I gave myself an ultimatum.  If I cleared Group 2 this time, I’d continue CA. If not, I’d walk away gracefully. No drama, just dignity. With that line drawn, I dove in. Joined a solid class. Studied ...