ACROSS THE UNIVERSE

So here’s the thing :

When life gets stressful, my brain throws confetti and forgets how to spell.

It’s not new. This party started very early.

When I was a kid, I’d try to speak in class and genuinely believe I was making sense.

I’d raise my hand, start talking, and suddenly my mouth would trick me with a full-body glitch. Words came out in random order or just didn’t come at all. I trip over syllables, restart mid-sentence, and stare helplessly as the class blinked in confused sympathy. It felt like trying to send a voice note from a tunnel under water while also holding back tears.

Sometimes I’d stutter, words tumbling out in broken syllables like I was buffering in real life. My tongue would try to launch a sentence and get caught in traffic. I’d be like, “I th-th-the the um… the frrrrrrog… it. ju-jumped...ov... the ttttthing".

And the teacher would smile with that face that says, Bless her, she’s trying. :P

I thought I was nailing it. Clasmates around looked like they were waiting for subtitles watching a foreing movie.

When my family moved to France. I went to finish elementary school and there was a whole new level of “Wait, what?” I barely spoke the language, and learning French felt like trying to catch a slippery fish with my bare hands.

Other kids made jokes at recess that flew right past my vocabulary radar, and I mostly stayed quiet in a corner, trying not to draw attention. But somehow, despite the confusion, the stuttering, and the playground laughs, I managed to scrape through that year with pretty good grades. I’m still happy of that little victory, French teachers probably just admired my stubbornness.

And then this year, something shifted. The stress dial went up, and the alphabet decided to go on strike again. my brain thought it was time for a long due comeback tour. Not the cute kind. The remixed, dubstepped, fog-covered kind.

Suddenly, my ability to pronounce things went on strike. Sounds melted. Letters flipped. I began speaking like I had just invented a new language on the spot.

At work, where I’m supposed to give crystal-clear direction on characters and color palettes, I told the team: “Make her vibe, moderately depressed with hints of stormy fruit salad.”....wait, That’s not a color scheme. That’s a cry for help in edible format.

Another time I proudly declared: “We need to flubberlize the main expression. You know add emotion. Everyone nodded but i think they started to see me weird and just scared to ask...LOL!

I also once told a junior to “please broccoli the file. I meant to say blur the background. We now use “broccoli” as an official team term for when something is confusing and greenish.

I once told an intern to export “the broccoli file. I meant "background. We’re all just vibing now.

The memes, honestly, are saving us. One of the juniors made a Minions graphic that said: When the art director sends you into battle with a broccoli file and the palette of depression.

I printed it and stuck it on my computer desk. That minion really understands me..hahaha

Zoom meetings? A full unlimited performance piece.

One time I explained our workflow to the entire team, gestures, passion, screen share, the whole novice and excited TED Talk vibe. At the end, one brave soul unmuted and asked: “Sorry, what’s a snozzle dome?” Apparently, I’d said “design system,” but my tongue had other ideas. To make it worse, I’d accidentally shared my browser tab titled:“Is it normal to forget words mid-sentence or am I possessed?”

The team’s expressions said it all. I just smiled like, It’s fine. My soul is being exorcised. Let’s continue.

Starbucks is a disaster.I walk in ready to order confidently. Hi, I’ll have a cortelatte, I mean a cat milk... I mean...oatmilk latte.

Barista: Name?

Me: Nan

They write: Ham....and honestly, that’s who I am now...Ham, Queen of Mixed Signals!.

I started practicing strategic silence. Not because I’m mysterious. Because I’m afraid I’ll invent new words like “digital snackface”...meant: interface.. or “color frog” meant: color fog...not sure honestly.

Still, the chaos finds me.

I took the metro once and end up in the wrong district with a baguette and no idea why I’m there so far from home.

I go grocery shopping for toothpaste and leave with a plant I didn’t mean to buy, a wheel of cheese I definitely can’t afford, an unerving fog in aisle 4 but no toothpaste.

Sometimes I just stand frozen by the canned goods, hoping the spirit of my vocabulary returns....yep, that's me!

And yet, through it all, writing still works amazingly. My brain might glitch in conversation, but on the page? It flows like nothing can disturb it. It lands in quiet and peace. It’s like the fog lifts, and I remember that I’m not hopeless, I’m just built with extra plot twists.. :P

Lately, things are gently returning back to normal. I still call things by the wrong name few times but not so often. I still accidentally say “banana beige” when I mean “warm neutral. But I’m smiling more. I’m laughing louder. There is peace and my mind is daydreaming. I’ve stopped dreading perfection, and I’ve started enjoying the one-me show.

Because honestly, I found being not-perfect is kind of beautiful and if I call you “orange new york” by accident, just know, it’s probably a compliment.