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If there’s anything that I’ve learnt about life so far, it’s that anything can change.

Moving to England for university was never a complete surprise to me. My father did his degree in Leeds and he’d always, throughout my childhood, verbally expressed his wish for me to do the same. While he never shared his experiences in depth, my young mind had latched onto the mystery and therefore, unlimited possibilities of how my life could be in a completely different country. I wanted to do it, but at the same time it was something I’d never set in stone because well, I was just a kid.

So as the years went by, even when all my documentation was approved, it wasn’t until I’d passed through immigration and boarded the plane that reality finally dawned on me. Although sometimes, when I would be walking across campus or through town by myself or with friends, I’d suddenly feel a sense of surrealness. That maybe if I blinked a little too hard, I’d wake up staring at the popcorn ceiling of my bedroom in Singapore.

But all I had to begin with was two suitcases full of clothes, some thermal wear, a cooking pot, and an electric kettle. I was headed to a small town I’d never heard of in an area of England I’d never been in.

Looking back now as I write this, it was a monumental change in my life at just 19. I was fresh out of junior college, maybe a little starry-eyed still from the innocence of waning youth, and I’d just stepped into a new world with new people, a new culture and way of life.

Sure we already shared the same language, but it was the nuances in speech, writing and mannerisms that I had to learn anew. And in doing so, set aside what I was familiar and comfortable with.

I remember the first time a friend greeted me with ‘you alright?’, I thought I looked ill. And I learned to say ‘ill’ instead of ‘sick’, ‘film’ instead of ‘movie’, and because I’m a woman I’m supposed to say ‘purse’ instead of ‘wallet’ (I’m still saying  ‘wallet’). I had to adjust to using an ISO keyboard, which wasn’t a massive change, some keys just weren’t where I thought they’d be. More recently, when trying to order furniture, I learnt dimensions didn’t go by length x breadth x height, it was width x depth x height.

I’d grown up with more American influences than I thought. And even so, it wasn’t enough. Speed was measured in miles, not kilometres. When learning to drive, I had to get a feel for how long 100 yards and a mile was. At work, I deal with metric and imperial measurements. Going to the GP and dentist, my weight was measured in stones.

At times brow-raising, but refreshing to experience. What I particularly enjoyed, was seeing how the media that people grew up watching or listening becomes so entrenched in culture for years and years. My father is still jamming to ‘Come on Eileen’ for example. I also found out where he got the habit of nicking Starbucks mugs and glasses from.

But what I was doing here halfway across the world? It was my love for reading and books. I did a degree in Literature and Creative Writing and later, a Masters. And here’s a fun fact: I actually dropped literature at 14. I could not grasp what the curriculum wanted from me, so I was ecstatic to come back to it at university. And it was exactly what I wanted. Just goes to show that if something didn’t go right the first time, there’s a chance it might still work out later on.

And so with roughly four books a week to read, I was delving deep and fast into genres I’d always wanted to explore and beyond. Having passionate lecturers (shoutout to Sean Seeger) and invaluable resources (JSTOR I love you) to prompt me to think more critically or to simply hold my hand as I struggled with a book (Ulysses, my god) will be a four-year journey I will always hold close to my heart.

My courses took me beyond books as well, extending the ‘reading’ list to films and other forms of media. It was here I realised the foundation of my love was deeper, or maybe simpler: I love stories.

I adore twists and turns, the allure of words or speech that’d pull or push me from a character, the swell of emotions in my chest or the creeping sense of dread at a critical point. Sometimes, it’s simply the way an actor or actress delivers a single line out of the entire script that changes the way I view the story. And reading other people's thoughts about it were whole new stories in itself.

It was this realisation that I’d never expected to work as a Proofreader and Copywriter at We Are Fred. My dream then had been to work in publishing so I could be closer to the stories. So when the opportunity came up for a little internship for the publication of a local creative anthology, Creel, I signed up in a heartbeat. And I loved it so much, I signed up again for the next, even becoming Editor in Chief for that project.

In summer one year, I also did a content writing internship at a marketing agency whose office was round the corner on campus. After that, the culmination of these three experiences became a turning point for my future. Another realisation formed: I found more enjoyment in editing.

With my career options a little more expanded, I sent out countless applications in true graduate fashion. I was home in Singapore for Christmas when I’d received a call one midnight from a recruiter. One 5pm Zoom call interview and a little test the next day (it was a bloody home user guide), I formally accepted the job at We Are Fred.

To think that my jetlag that night may be the sole reason why I’m employed today is crazy.

While it sounds like I had to stray from my original dream, I didn’t because I found a new, better one. Oh, but what about being closer to the stories? Well, I found that there are stories to be told here as well. It’s in the way we do pitches to clients, the creative we design, the photos we shoot, the videos we put together and, of course, the copy we write.

And just as university has grown my love for stories, working at We Are Fred has opened my eyes to the inner workings of the creative and real estate industries. It’s eye-opening to see and experience the hard work that goes behind marketing a residential development or a corporate office building. Holding a leaflet in my hand will forever feel and read differently now, so will the way I look at billboards and even the ads that play in the cinema before the start of the film.

And that’s my life so far, a very privileged journey from the start, and I’d like to think I’ve made use of every opportunity and tied everything nicely to where I am now. And although, for the first time ever, I want this path I’m currently on to be set in stone, something could change again. Until then, I’ve learnt to cherish and be grateful for every passing day.

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