“Am I happy?”
I remembered vividly the day I turned 21 (20 years ago). Perhaps because, in Singapore, that’s what people define as “adulthood” – men finish the army – and I had 5 Singaporean roommates at a time. Perhaps, because we were in New York City, first time for me, and Asians (and Vietnamese in general) have always romanticized America and NYC. It was cold and wet, we had been walking outside for hours, and I only had a salad. Most of my roommates just got to know me by then, so there was no fanfare or anything about my birthday. I remember that vividly. Perhaps, maybe, for the first time in a very long time, I was hopeful. Not happy. Hopeful.
That young man is still here somewhere, inside of me, I think: full of hope, full of naïveté, and full of internal struggle. A monk once told Trevor Noah, “If you are having a bad day, just remember the version that you are today is the version the past you would have dreamed to become.” That young man has dreamed of being with a beautiful, bearded, tall man. That young man has dreamed of a safe place called home and a family. That young man has dreamed of a career to be proud of, to be a leader, and to achieve success.

So here we are, today. “Am I happy?”
I should be happy. I should.
Twenty years ago was also the first time I saw Wicked (I know, a gay who loves Musicals, how fucking original!), but there’s a song that resonates deeply with me years later.
“Happy is what happens when your dreams come true!
I couldn’t be happier. Simply couldn’t be happier
Well, not “simply”, because getting your dreams, it’s strange, but it seems a little, well, complicated.”
Turned out the beautiful, bearded, tall man can’t solve all your problems. He doesn’t want to hear about racism in the gay community on a regular basis. Turned out your beautiful, safe home can be at risk of being invaded by the world’s ugliest Orangutan. Turned out an illustrious career built by hard work and dedication is nothing compared to a bunch of overinflated grifters and internet “thought leaders”. Turned out (some) friends may decide to stay or to go depending on your utility function of the day.
So yes, I am proud, grateful, and loving the life I have. “Am I happy?” is a bit more complicated than that.
There was one thing that the same young man had/has. An answer. Not the answer, but an answer. A good answer at that. In my darkest time in Singapore, in the darkest day of my depression and before coming out, that 20-year-old kid found Buddhism, meditation, and learning to sit with all this darkness and uneasiness, and be with himself. A monk once asked: “What makes people so unhappy?” After I gave him a long-winded answer about philosophy, socioeconomic inequality, and all that, he said, “Craving.” We crave for more, for better, for the things we don’t have / never had. Now that is not to say we stop fighting for loving kindness for all beings (That Buddhist philosophy about “do no harm” vs “do nothing” is for another discussion). I have been avoiding that answer. Not because it is not a good answer. It is because it is a hard answer. It’s tough. It’s hard to sit with yourself in the silence. It’s hard to sit with the silence. It’s hard to face inequality and anxiety and fear and darkness just by yourself. It’s hard not “trying to find” happiness. But it is an answer. It’s not the only answer, but it’s a good one to try. I was afraid to go back there. I think I was afraid to go back there in 2019, throughout the pandemic, when I turned 40, and even now. Because when I sit with myself and meditate and gain insights to what is this lump that is stuck in my chest, the answer could just be “Abandon all hope” and “Leave”. It might be a good answer, but it is a damn hard one to face.
So what now? So what next?
As usual, I am full of questions. No answer.
