Lunar New Year used to feel different when I lived in Hawaii.
New Year mochi. Red envelopes. Fireworks somewhere in the background. Extended family just being around. It wasn’t loud or extravagant. It was just… a thing that happened every year.
After I left in 2016, it slowly faded into something quieter.
Now it feels like any other day. Calm. Neutral. Not sad. just Distant.
I used to think lunar new year was just a cultural celebration, but it’s always felt like a second beginning to me. Not January 1st energy — something softer. Honoring ancestors I’ve never met. Acknowledging where I come from, even when I don’t fully know it.
I haven’t celebrated it in a long time. And my family doesn’t really do much now.
But maybe that doesn’t mean it has no meaning.
Maybe it just means I get to decide what it looks like.
This year, I want to give my family red envelopes — not because we always have, but because I want to. Fortune. Prosperity. Protection.
I want to clean my space. Take care of my skin. Reset quietly.
I want to leave behind my pessimism. My anger toward the past. The resentment I’ve been holding onto. The need to control everything so I don’t get hurt again.
I want to practice forgiveness. Not for them — for me.
If this year has a word, it’s determination.
The kind where I move forward even if I’m scared.
The kind where I choose growth over comfort.
Maybe this is what Lunar New Year looks like for me now.
Not pretending nothing changed.
Just honoring it in my own way.
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