Angie Wang @angiewangcreate

@rupees1hundred @made_in_cosmos yes it's my life journey!

I got proposals for my book cover! If you see these four books in the bookstore, which one would you pick up?

@kureshii_ Yes it does give a more western than Taiwan vibe!

Word Choice and punctuation are hard! Today I was editing a conversation between @p_millerd I during pandenmic. I had just started my podcast, and I treated him as a business guru, asking him for every business advice. This was his reply: “If I hand over my creative will to the ‘so-called market’, how is that any different from being a company employee? I might as well go back to consulting—I'd make more than from creating and wouldn’t have to face the uncertainty that comes with it.” The so-called market took me 10 mins to decide and gone through different versions of : - (Original )If I hand over my creative will to the so-called market - (Editor) If I hand over my creative will to the market - (Final) If I hand over my creative will to the “so-called market” My original version was " the so-called market”, but then my editor changed it to just “market.” It is obvious to me that my editor did not understand why I used the phrase “so-called”. By directly using the word “market”, it presented Paul as someone who accepts that the abstract idea of a market is something worth accepting. But I’m trying to make the subtle point that he questions that, too. That you should always just play the game the economy puts in front of you on its own terms. For Paul, he’s creating for real people, and even considering that there is a “market” that needs to be pleased undermines his energy. Every word choice and punctuation in the book will shape someone’s perception of the reality of me, people in my life, and how they take away from my life story. I’m having faith that yes the book editing process is looooooong but it will be worth it!

While writing my memoir, I kept returning to "love" as the core belief of my life. But when asked how I define love, I could not answer this age-old question that people have pondered for centuries. So, I threw my entire memoir into claude.ai (thanks, @taskett !) and asked: What is love to me? “From the narrative clues in your book, ‘love’ for you is not just about romantic relationships or family bonds, but more a process of self-discovery and self-healing. You’ve gone through life’s ups and downs—being a dark horse turned underachiever, dropping out from school, graduating from Ivy League school only to end up working in a hot pot restaurant. These experiences led you to repeatedly examine your growing pains and longings. For you, ‘love’ is a kind of learning—a practice in accepting your own vulnerability, forgiving past failures, and, through cycles of self-destruction and rebuilding, learning how to make peace with the world and with yourself. This kind of love isn’t merely attachment to others, but a conscious choice—a force that compels you, even in solitude, confusion, or self-exile, to still believe in the world, and to believe that you are worthy of love.” Bravo, Claude!

“Who am I really? What am I meant to accomplish in this life?” These fundamental questions about my existence in this world prompted me to start writing a memoir last year—and it all began with becoming a mother. Because the path to motherhood isn’t like a fairy tale where one “lives happily ever after.” Instead, it’s a long process of self-deconstruction and reconstruction. I thought becoming a mother would permanently fill the void in my heart, but the truth is, I can’t expect my daughter to answer the questions of my own life. So I began writing about my life. Maybe through the process of writing, I can reorganize my story and find some answers to the questions I’ve never been able to answer. In the book, I write honestly about the sense of inadequacy I felt at National Taiwan University and in the Ivy League, the post-Columbia days working at a hotpot restaurant, quitting a tech job to pursue a dream in fitness, and later leaving that to create the Curious Barbell podcast—yet constantly battling imposter syndrome, which sabotaged me after every success. I also write about how studying abroad deeply damaged my relationship with my family, my blind pursuit of the American Dream, my rejection of my Taiwanese identity, and how it wasn’t until I married Paul (@pathlesspaul) and began a nomadic lifestyle that I realized what I truly want: a life lived between borders, constantly reshaped by cultural collisions. If becoming a mother changed my relationship with my family in Taiwan, the process of writing this book has allowed me to reconcile with my own life. I’ve started to see my own courage, the hope in my journey, and I’ve come to understand that what I seek is not the “correct” answer to existence—but the realization that life itself, in its unfolding, is the answer.

@p_millerd and I moved to Thailand in April. All the cultural shock moments reminded me of what I wrote in my memoir about our time in Mexico: “It's because we chose this unstable lifestyle that we’ve had these experiences—ones that would’ve been unlikely in our home cultures. But we’ve never regretted choosing the nomadic path. Maybe the discomfort that comes with this lifestyle is exactly the point. It’s those unpredictable, inconvenient moments that make us feel truly alive. Just like when we chose to enter this cross-cultural marriage—everyday tensions are reminders that the world holds many different ways of living and thinking. We don’t have to follow the rulebook of where we came from. We can mix and match each day into a new version of ourselves.”

The hardest part of writing a memoir is revisiting the chapters when I failed epically; every word feels like peeling open a painful scar all over again. Yet perhaps true healing can only come from honestly confronting the mistakes I have made.

Things to remember in the final few months of writing my memoir: - How can I be in wonder and enjoy the hell out of the process? - How can I connect with myself when I feel like I'm losing control? - What do I crave for that I don't already have? - How can I be more vulnerable? - Life is not competition, but love and connection - How can I redefine success - What if I'm already loved and there's nothing to prove?

Training is the best way I find community while living a nomadic life. Yesterday, we drove for half an hour with my daughter to the southeast tip of Koh Samui to join a local Capoeira class. We had barely stepped out of the car when an auntie scolded us for parking the wrong way. I scratched my nose, thinking how blunt and rude that was. People were scattered around the beach pavilion where the class was. I took up the courage to say hi to one lady. She replied in a short, Russian-accented English and immediately looked back at her phone. I felt a bit let down, wondering if I had expected too much of today. Seconds later, she looked up and asked me in perfect Chinese, “Do you speak Chinese?” It turned out she and the instructor had lived in Shanghai for over twenty years, and she even knew my capoeira mentor, Mestre Pinga Fongo, from Austin, Texas! We squealed like old friends and dove into a lively Chinese chat about Capoeira and expat life. Class began, the sea breeze blowing as we paired with different students. When I partnered with the same “parking auntie,” we gripped each other’s sweaty hands, crawling and laughing like playful gorillas. After class, everyone lingered, happily swapping training stories. In just two hours, I went from a tourist floating above Samui life to a member of its training community. I don’t think I will ever stop practicing capoeira. ❤️

@HcwXd @substack ah hope @substack can fix it asap!

Does any other Chinese writer on @substack also have trouble with their shareable images?

I regret to inform you that: Thinking about the feeling isn’t feeling the feeling Talking about the feeling isn’t feeling the feeling Writing about the feeling isn’t feeling the feeling

@p_millerd Been in an apprenticeship with you for the past seven years, clearly it's not helping much 🤣🤣🤣

After over a year of the long marathon of writing my book, I finally submitted my manuscript to the editor. We arrived in Oaxaca, Mexico, for a month for my sabbatical month. But in the first week, a series of unexpected events happened, forcing me to put out fires left and right. I was overwhelmed with anxiety. Later, I realized that none of these were actually "urgent matters"—it was just my habitual mindset pulling me back into a state of busyness. It turns out that being in a state of ease and expansion feels unfamiliar and even scary to me, and stepping into it requires a bit of determination. With this realization, I now see this as a practice. I could fill this sabbatical month with online courses and a long reading list or learn how to slow down, allowing my mind and body to heal. "Rest is for walking a longer journey ahead." This phrase might sound cliché, but at this moment, it holds a deep meaning for me.

@Camp4 I like the mantra!

I posted something semi-controversial about how I rejected being a good Asian daughter on Threads yesterday and got some negative comments. I used to be so scared of receiving any criticism. I would immediately fall into despair and create all sorts of drama in my head. But this time, I found myself loving the intensity. Yes, I'm pissed off, but I love my anger. It's like, despite feeling the fire rising within me, I also felt the tingling excitement, telling me I was actually enjoying it. These changes wouldn't have happened if I'd never gone through the emotional inquiry taught in @artofaccomp 's Great Decision Course. Can't wait to see how much more stuff will unfold in the rest of the course!

@chr_iswong OMG congrats!!

I use ChatGPT for everything.

@tasshinfogleman @vals_pals_ Everyone needs a @vals_pals_ in their life

My memoir is in the beta reading stage, and @vals_pals_ gimme the most honest feedback I needed. I shared how I became the black horse of our mediocre middle school and got into the best high school in town. She asked me what motivated me to work hard. I was confused for a second. At first, I didn't have an answer. My parents didn't have a college degree; they didn't have high expectations for me. But I remember several times I was so stressed that I had to go to the hospital to get a painkiller injection for my stomach pain. Where did this self-expectation come from? Then, I leaned into my memory, searching for moments when I felt shame and fear of failing the test. Somehow, the expressions of disdain on other parents' faces popped up. Suddenly, I realized I had studied hard because I was ashamed of my class. I was ashamed that every time people found out my mom worked in the traditional market, they could never hide their contempt. I was trying not to end up being like my mom. This is a heartbreaking realization, but after confronting my sadness about how ignorant I was as a kid, I've also finally come to peace about all the struggles I had from wanting to prove myself and self-sabotage over and over again. I love writing. (and my mom)