Feeling the Fear and Doing It Anyway

A week of discomfort, growth, and choosing to show up

The past week felt intense - uncomfortable in that unmistakable way that signals growth. It was truly a week of feeling the fear and doing it anyway.

It began with the anxiety of planning for the year ahead in my business - a feeling like a huge wave crashing over me. Overwhelming, disorienting… and yet, I still chose to show up, knowing that I have the support of my business coach.

Goofing my way out of discomfort as a table topic master - with my bag of topics inside fun gacha capsules!

The next discomfort came from Toastmasters - which I finally joined as a member late last year - and being more present in meetings and speaking up is one of my goals for 2026. I was invited to be the Table Topics Master, and I decided to make it fun - placing each topic inside a gachapon capsule for speakers to draw from. I also volunteered myself as the first Table Topics speaker (kill 2 birds with 1 stone!). Of course, I picked the topic I secretly hoped I wouldn’t get *slaps forehead*. Cue a brief brain-freeze moment mid-speech… and then, in a bizarre twist, I won Best Table Topics Speaker of the night.

Speechless at winning this. What did I even say for my speech? 😂

Then there was the vulnerability of presenting my new work at Mastery Expressions 2, surrounded by immensely talented artists and masters. I could feel my imposter syndrome creeping in - eerily similar to how it felt three years ago (I wrote about it here).

Behind the smile hide my nerves, especially on opening night. With my new work: "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway". How apt for the situation!

I felt like I was shrinking with every minute of socialising - especially around master artists. My nervous system wants safety, familiarity, people I already know, yet as a 2/4 profile in Human Design, I’m a walking paradox: I enjoy social settings, yet deeply crave my hermit time. Singapore Art Week always amplifies this internal tug-of-war.

And yet, in the midst of these nerves, I still showed up fully to facilitate the Create Your Heartbox group workshop.

My incredible human powerbanks that recharged me to the max! Love you ladies for the wonderful energy!

What surprised me was how nourishing it felt.

Despite my own inner turbulence, I was able to hold space - and in return, I was recharged by the participants. It was a privilege to witness quieter participants gradually warm up, relax, and begin having fun together.

The moment I treasure most, every single time, is when they write a love letter to their future selves. For many, it’s unfamiliar territory - not knowing how to be gentle, encouraging, or kind to themselves. And yet, beneath that awkwardness, there’s always a longing: a deep desire to receive that love from themselves, to themselves. It’s always so tender. I can’t wait to mail their Heartboxes out on Chinese New Year’s Eve, so their creations arrive in the new lunar year of the Fire Horse.

Later in the week, I attended Art SG with a friend (thank you Jasmin for saying yes!) as a way to recharge.

Thanks, Jasmin, for the great company at ART SG!

With one of my favourite piece, Waterfall on Colours, by Hiroshi Senju. Photo courtesy of Jasmin!

Even then, mixed emotions surfaced - running into university seniors now represented by esteemed galleries stirred comparison and self-doubt. I could feel myself shrinking. And I knew: this was my own mind at work.

That night, I did mirror talk - one of my favourite self-love practices. And what emerged was something simple, yet profound:

I own the process.

I don’t own the outcome.

That distinction changed everything.

It allows me to honour my experiences, my journey, and the work I put in - without tying my worth to outcomes, accolades, or external validation. Measuring life that way would be deeply unfair. Life isn’t linear. Although the tender feelings are still there, the shift in perspective really helped to balance what I was feeling inside from time to time.

This is a lifelong work in progress.

What I realised is that what I felt this week mirrors my imposter syndrome back in 2023 - almost like a Part 2. But the Caihui in 2026 is not the Caihui in 2023. I now recognise where these feelings come from, and I no longer run from them.

I hold myself with kindness.

I seek help and support, knowing I don’t need to face this all alone.

I don’t force myself when my body and nervous system don’t feel safe - and I respect that.

Integration and growth can only happen from safety, not threat.

Growth doesn’t feel comfortable. It feels uncomfortable - and we show up anyway.

2023 Caihui with her first intuitive abstract wave art - Emotional Landscape

So here’s a quiet thank you to the 2023 version of me. The one who created Emotional Landscape and unknowingly set the direction for the affirmation art I now share with the world. Thank you for not giving up when imposter syndrome felt loud. Thank you for continuing to show your work, even when fear and insecurity were present.

Perhaps one day, the Caihui of 2029 will write a tribute to the Caihui of 2026.

And maybe that’s the beauty of it all - life can only be connected backwards, but it has to be lived forward.