Moving again: what we keep and part with tell us who we are.

Packing and unpacking is a rite of passage that leads us into a new phase in life.

If you’re new to Every Tiny Thought, Welcome!

I write about many things personal: growing up in China and finding home in the U.S., the bittersweetness of a life between two cultures, and the stories that gave me strength along the way, from books, films, and real life.

If you’ve been here before, I appreciate you for sticking around!

Two months ago, when I started packing for our move, a thick white envelope with my mom’s handwriting stood out from my postcard and letter pile, inside was an eight-page handwritten letter my mom sent me when I was two months into my freshman year in the U.S. I asked her to write the letter, for reasons I cannot recall anymore. All I could remember was that I was very into hand-written letters at the time and was terribly homesick. It traveled by sea or air for a month before it landed in my mailbox, and it has been with me since then.

With no families close by, moving has been some of the most vulnerable and unclear moments in my life: moving into my freshman dorm by myself when everyone else was surrounded by their families; moving to a new state after college graduation with no job lined up; going to graduate school alone in Michigan not knowing what the future holds, and starting a new job alone in Arizona not sure how much longer would it be until I could be in the same city with my partner.

In her hand-written letter, my mom talks about many things: