Who just had an amazing week? Me, me, me.

I took a day trip to a nearby city to see my family and friends. It was Qixi, the Chinese Valentine’s Day, and I had a great time hanging out with my loved ones. But the highlight of that day—and somehow the highlight of my whole week—was getting completely drenched in the rain. Sounds ridiculous, right? Okay, let me tell you the story.

Ten Minutes That Changed Something in Me

It was late that night, and I needed to catch the night bus home. My cousin dropped me off at the bus stop, and just after he left, the wind suddenly started blowing like crazy. Then it started pouring.

I barely had a second to figure out what to do. I didn’t have an umbrella. The only thing I had was a big jacket my cousin had left with me, in case I got cold on the night bus.

I could have run into the nearby shopping mall for shelter, but by then, I was already soaked, and my bus was coming in about ten minutes. So I decided to just wait at the stop.

There was a roof over the bus stop, but the rain was coming down so hard that everyone was soaked within minutes. I saw couples holding each other under umbrellas that were obviously doing very little to keep them dry. I saw a mom holding her little kid, trying to keep the child warm with the warmth of her own body.

And then there was me. All alone. Covering my head with a big jacket. Watching the crowd. Watching every bus that came by. Waiting. But at that moment, I didn’t feel lonely or scared. It was cold, and I was soaked, but my head was covered, and I knew I could get through those ten minutes.

It was Valentine’s Day, so I couldn’t help but think back to all those years when I had someone by my side. And yet, I had never felt this strong sense of peace and safety. There I was, alone and drenched in the pouring rain, and somehow I felt safe. I realized that I had become stronger. I didn’t need someone else’s support or company to make me feel protected. I could take care of myself. I could be alone and still feel completely okay.

I was my own safe place. And maybe that’s what touched me the most. I can—and I want to—be my own Valentine, every single day.

I loved myself so deeply in those ten minutes, and for the first time, I truly understood that being alone doesn’t mean being lonely. It means knowing that you can still hold yourself. I was happy. Deeply, quietly happy. And I believe I’ll remember those ten minutes for the rest of my life. Even writing this down now brings a strange sense of warmth back to my heart.

When Being Strong Goes Too Far

Of course, I got sick afterwards. I felt cold when I finally got on the bus, and the next day, my stomach started feeling uncomfortable and my back pain came back at the same time. And then came the low note of the week. My body was clearly asking me to slow down, but I didn’t listen.

I could feel my energy crashing, but I still went out for my ten-kilometer run on Sunday morning. It was the most painful run I’d had in a long while. Usually, the pain in my back gets better after I warm up and keep running. But that morning, it didn’t. I was absolutely miserable, especially as I headed into the final kilometer. But I finished it.

And honestly, I wasn’t proud of myself in the way I thought I would be. I knew I had overestimated my strength that morning. Maybe being strong isn’t always about pushing through. Maybe sometimes being strong means knowing when to stop. Knowing when your body is asking for rest. Knowing that you don’t have to prove how strong you are.

Grateful for the Rain, Grateful for the Pain

So, if the rain was the high note of my week, the painful run was definitely the low note. And somehow, I’m grateful for both. I’m grateful for the rain because it gave me those ten unforgettable minutes with myself. I’m grateful for the pain because it reminded me that taking care of myself is also a form of strength.

Maybe that’s what I love about life. It can be ridiculous and painful and beautiful at the same time. I still remember the pouring rain. And somehow, I kind of miss it. I miss the rain. I remember the pain. And somewhere in between the two, I feel very, very alive. I am mortal, vulnerable, and still somehow powerful. I love my life.

Until next week~