I remember a morning when I opened my eyes and saw a blue sky with just a few wispy white clouds streaking across it. I was lying on the railing of the Đại Lãnh lighthouse, the spot where you catch the country’s first sunrise. That was barely over a month ago—not long at all. My first thought was, “I’m so lucky to still enjoy the cool breeze, fresh nature, the murmur of waves, and this blue-sky-white-cloud scene at an age when I’d usually be rushing to get ready for work, feeding the kids breakfast, and barking orders to the maid or my husband.”

Lately, I’ve picked up a fancy little hobby: scrolling Quora, reading questions, following them for blog ideas, and filing them under “Letters to My 20s.” No grand purpose—just a keepsake so I can look back on my youth without regrets, knowing I lived and savored every moment doing what I love.

Someone asked, “What mistakes do people make chasing happiness?” I vibe with the top-voted answer: everyone treats happiness like it’s got an expiration date. Like, I’m 26 this year—27 by lunar count—and family, friends, society all say it’s time to settle down. Mom keeps nudging, “This is a good year—find someone, get married, stop drifting.” Friends are tying the knot left and right. If it’s love docking at the harbor, fine, but some pals? They see everyone else marrying, snag a guy they’ve known for two or three months, and bam—wedding invites. And then come the sad post-marriage tales from that rush.

Does that mean if I marry at 30, later, or not at all and just have a kid, I’m not happy? Most would say no. But no one’s shouting it out to back me up. Instead, they ask, “So if you don’t start a family, what’ll you do with all that time? Being a mom, a wife—that’s happiness, right?”

So much! Like traveling new roads—last July, I cruised the South Central coast from Vũng Tàu to Tuy Hòa. Man, the sea’s unreal—endless green, cool breezes, peaceful fishing villages hugging the shore, too charming to describe. We drove on smooth provincial roads, wide and open, lined with shady pine rows as romantic as any American or Korean flick. Off in the distance, waves whispered, crashing softly. Pristine sandy beaches, flat and clean—no one swimming. Maybe no one even knows they’re there unless they take that route. Tons more experiences, but this isn’t about the coast :D.

Or I could challenge myself in a field I know zilch about. Be a curious kid—dig in, research, try, fail, try, fail again. Sure, the cash isn’t rolling in, and people say, “At your age, with your degrees, that’s all you make?” But they also say, “Before 30, fail as much as you can.” Time doesn’t rewind. Another thing: people fixate on others’ opinions and forget what they really want. Happiness slips away when we chase someone else’s lens instead of relishing our own struggles.

Plus, everyone thinks happiness equals joy. Not me. Sadness, despair, tears, pain—that’s happiness too. Why? A friend once wrote, “If life were flat, I wouldn’t exist anymore. A life of just calm happiness is a straight line, but a heartbeat’s gotta jump to prove you’re alive.”

Another girl sent me a postcard in my early Sài Gòn days: “Happiness is on the journey, not the destination.” So if I’m not in sync with my peers, there’s still heaps of new, happy stuff coming my way. Like one morning, getting a library card, sitting with young folks, and spotting a silver-haired grandpa poring over a sociology book. Or a middle-aged guy reading business stuff, older and younger dudes blending into that quiet rustle of pages.

Anyway, it’s Friday. Sài Gòn’s sun is gorgeous today. My wallet’s thin, and I’ve got a fat debt to pay. Two tough job options loom ahead :D. The love of my life? Nowhere in sight. But so what? I’m breathing steady, got awesome, funny friends, a family to love, and a billion things waiting to test me.

That’s happiness enough. Why chase it? 🙂