There are seasons when life looks busy and full from the outside, but inside it feels like you’re moving in circles.
That’s where I found myself at the end of last year: working hard, making decisions, ticking boxes — and still carrying this low-level hum of “Is this it?” through every single day. Life Momentum Studio is my answer to that feeling. Not a polished solution. Not a finished idea. A choice to experiment in public — to test small changes, explore new paths, and tell the truth about what happens along the way.
The Hamster Wheel
For a few years now, I’ve been running on a hamster wheel that only spins faster. Each January, careful plans. Inspiring goals. By March, swallowed by work again. I’d resurface in December — exhausted, wondering where the year went and why nothing had actually changed.
My mind is full of ideas. The problem was I wasn’t trying enough of them. I was living almost entirely in my head. And at some point I realised: if I wanted a different life, thinking harder wasn’t going to get me there. I had to start doing.
At the end of 2025, I was drained — physically, mentally, emotionally. I went on a holiday expecting to reset, and it was neither restful nor what I’d imagined. I caught myself thinking:
“Maybe this is just how it’s going to be now.”
But I’m not someone who gives up on hope that easily.
The Wish I Couldn’t Outsource
One evening, in classic year-end doom-scrolling fashion, I came across a reel about writing 13 wishes and burning one each day in the run-up to the new year. The idea: 12 wishes you hand to the universe, and one — number 13 — you commit to fulfilling yourself. So I wrote my list. And ironically, the wish I most wanted the universe to handle? That became number 13. The one I couldn’t outsource.
That was my wake-up call.
The wish I had to build with my own hands: create a side hustle that energises me, gives me options, and feels like mine. Not just something to earn extra money — a way to document and share a real journey. That single wish is what gave birth to Life Momentum Studio.
Why Tiny Experiments — Not Big Plans
I’ve tried the big-plan approach: five-year visions, colour-coded goals, long lists of habits I was going to magically switch on every January. They look impressive for about a month, then quietly become another reason to feel behind.
Big plans made me obsessed with outcomes. Tiny experiments make me curious again.
A tiny experiment, for me, is anything small and specific enough that I’ll actually try it. I’m less interested in whether each experiment “succeeds” and more interested in what it reveals: Do I feel more alive? Do I learn something? Does this create even a little movement somewhere that felt stuck?
I’ve done the classic stuff — imagining my future self, working backwards from goals. I can hit goals when I decide to. But there comes a point where you realise you’re still going in circles, just with nicer stationery.
I don’t just want to tick off achievements. I want to test what actually works for me.
So for each experiment, I’m asking:
Does it energise me or overwhelm me?
Does it bring something new into my life?
Is it sustainable, or just a short-term rush?
Does it fit the identity I’m trying to build?
What the Experiments Actually Look Like
The experiments aren’t abstract. They’re happening right now, woven through real life.
At work, I’m navigating a massive transformation project — multiple streams, multicultural teams — and testing new ways to stay sane and clear-headed under pressure. A different way of handling a tense meeting. A new structure for my week. Small shifts to see what actually helps me lead without burning out.
At home, I’m in the middle of a house hunt, weighing space versus city, practicality versus gut feeling, and trying to figure out what “home” even means to me at this point in my life.
With this site, I’m publishing before I feel ready. Building in public before the shape is clear. That itself is the experiment.
With my body and mind, I’m meal prepping, moving more, going to bed on time, and gently cutting out what feels toxic. None of it is dramatic. All of it is intentional.
And then there’s money — the experiment I’ve been avoiding the longest.
I’m doing a monthly financial audit. Sitting down once a month with my actual numbers: what came in, what went out, where it quietly leaked away. No more vague anxiety about finances — just clear, honest looking. Alongside that, I’m learning about investing. Not in a passive “I’ll get round to it” way, but actively: reading, listening, asking questions, and starting to make small, considered moves. For too long, money has been something that happened to me rather than something I actively shaped. That’s changing.
Experimenting with finances feels vulnerable in a way the other experiments don’t. But that’s probably exactly why it matters.
This Is Not a Highlight Reel
I’m not going to wait until I have a neat success story with a bow on it before I share what I’m doing. I’ll write about the experiments that work and the ones that fizzle. The evenings I’m buzzing with ideas and the mornings I want to stay under the duvet.
You’ll see the messy middle: career questions, house-hunt dilemmas, side-hustle doubts, money fears, everyday frustrations — and the tiny wins that keep me going.
Journeys aren’t clean. Once you reach the finish line, it’s easy to retell the story as if it was always meant to be. But what about the days when the regret of inaction eats at you? When you have no idea if you’re doing the right thing? That’s where most of us actually live.
I’m going to put myself out there with all of it: the feelings, the procrastination, the excuses, the failed attempts, and the inner critic who comments on everything. The full picture — flaws and all.
That’s the point.
Where This Is Going
In the long run, I don’t want this to just be a collection of personal essays. My hope is that as I experiment my way through career decisions, side-hustle trials, home choices, finances and everyday resilience, patterns will emerge — tools and perspectives I can share more intentionally.
I’d love for Life Momentum Studio to become a place where I can mentor people who are also standing at a crossroads: wanting movement, but not wanting to burn everything down to get it.
I don’t know exactly what that will look like yet. And I’m okay with that. I’d rather build it honestly than pretend I have it all figured out.
You Might Feel at Home Here
If you’re stuck, restless, or quietly tired of pretending everything is fine — this space is for you too.
What you’ll find is a raw look at one person’s journey: not a finished product, not a polished brand. Just a human being stumbling forward, experimenting, sometimes boring, sometimes brave.
Before you click away: where are you in your own story right now? Not the version you’d post about — the real one.
Sometimes momentum starts with simply admitting where you actually are, and letting it be messy.