These days, it has been really easy to let the negativity consume me. I lie awake at night, worrying about mile-long to-do lists and unknown futures. In the morning, I drag myself out of bed and wipe errant tears caused by the anxiety-causing everything that needs conquering. It’s too easy to stop feeling fortunate and let the bad things consume me. Some days, I can’t get out of bed, choosing to cover my head and seek comfort in the soft sheets and Alice’s warm fur.

In times of distress, I spend a lot of time being nostalgic. I think of trips to the beach during sweltering Florida summers and catching crawdads in frigid California rivers. I think of tea parties with my grandparents and trading Polly Pocket accessories with my cousin.

Feeling fortunate for my Vietnamese-American childhood

Most of all, I think of the things that are unique to my upbringing, the things that I miss the most when I am at USC. For example, as I shared the kitchen last summer with my dad, who taught me to love food, I think of all the times “Con ăn cơm chưa?” (“My child, have you eaten yet?”) was synonymous for “I love you.” I feel pride swelling in my chest as my little cousin calls me “chị” (“big sister”) and know that she means it more than an honorific. I think of menthol oil rubbed on my chest to cure a cold and being measured for an áo dài (Vietnamese traditional wear).

(Note: Viet Nguyen, Pullitzer-winning author and one of my USC professors, wrote a beautiful reflection on being “moved by Vietnamese things.”)

Instead of Christmas gifts and Thanksgiving turkeys, I think of the Lunar New Year. Cleaning the house for a week. Altars laden with fruits, flowers, and smoky incense. And every child’s favorite: little red envelopes with new money called “bao lì xì.”

When I was little, the money was the best part. Now, it’s the meaning behind it. Before receiving lì xì, children wish their elders prosperity, happiness, and other wonderful things. The elders then return the wishes (good grades, health, and happiness) and present the envelopes.

A focus on good fortune

Vietnamese holidays are always so beautifully optimistic (even if there were no Lunar New Year or Mid-Autumn Festivals last year), especially in contrast to my usually duty-driven and workaholic family. Those little red envelopes contain more than just some fresh bills. They contain hopes of a brighter future and the care of someone who loves enough to spend an evening fastidiously counting bills and labeling envelopes for each child. And trust me, when you have a big, crazy Vietnamese-American family, this is no meager feat.

One night last summer, when I’d gone back to live with my dad, I decided something as I tossed and turned. I want to wake up every morning like a little red envelope was waiting on my nightstand. Not because of the money (although, it is a financially trying time for many people). Every day, life has something wonderful to offer. Even on the worst days, there are good things. I want to focus on feeling fortunate for those things: cuddles with kittens, fantastical books, the love of a loved one, a cup of tea and a sweet treat… Today, I’m celebrating not just my birthday or finishing my master’s program, but also the fact that I have loved ones who have always been proud of me, when when I was at my lowest.