My name is Elaine Tan. I’m 48 this year. On paper, I had everything: a steady job in finance, two grown-up children who were thriving in university, and a life that looked comfortable from the outside. But if you asked me how I was doing a year ago, I wouldn’t have had an answer.
That was the strangest part—not that I was sad or overwhelmed.
I was just… numb.
My life had been defined by responsibility. Wake up early. Get the kids ready. Head to work. Come home, cook dinner, pay bills, repeat. Even after my children moved out and things slowed down, I kept running on autopilot. I thought maybe that’s just what adulthood looked like—less joy, more routine.
But deep down, something felt off. The silence in the house felt heavier. My achievements at work didn’t spark pride anymore. My days blurred into one another. And the worst part? I could not even remember last time I did something just to me.
A Search for “Something Else”
One night, unable to sleep, I found myself scrolling through articles on emotional burnout. I didn’t even know if that’s what I was feeling—but it was the closest word I could find.
That’s when I came across something called POP Workshop.
The article wasn’t flashy. It didn’t promise instant happiness or overnight transformation. It simply described a space where people could reconnect with themselves through guided reflection, emotional support, and community.
I saved the link. For weeks, I ignored it.
Then one Saturday morning, after yet another week of dragging myself through work and pretending I was fine, I opened that tab again.
Something in me whispered, Try. So, I did.
Walking In as a Stranger to Myself
I didn’t tell anyone I signed up—not my friends, not my kids. It felt too personal, too vulnerable. I wasn’t even sure why I was going, only that I needed to do something before the emptiness inside me settled in too deep.
From the moment I stepped into POP Workshop, I knew it wasn’t going to be like anything I had experienced before. There were no awkward introductions or icebreakers. No pressure to share. No forced smiles.
It was just a room full of people—each of us quietly holding stories we didn’t yet know how to say out loud.
here were moments of silence.
Moments of laughter. Moments when someone else’s story unexpectedly cracked something open inside me.
What surprised me the most was how much I had been ignoring my own inner voice. Not just my dreams or ambitions—but my actual feelings.
For so long, I had operated like a machine: efficient, reliable, and responsible. But underneath that was a woman who hadn’t asked herself in years:
“What do I want?”
“What do I feel?”
“What do I need?”
Rediscovering the Quiet Joy of Being Me
POP Institute Pte Ltd didn’t give me the answers—it gave me the space to ask better questions.
It helped me realize that I had spent so much of my life being everything to everyone else that I had quietly erased parts of myself. I wasn’t broken. I wasn’t in crisis. But I was invisible—to myself.
Little by little, started reclaiming piece myself.
I began going for evening walks—not for exercise, but to feel the breeze on my skin.
I bought paints and brushes, even though I hadn’t touched a canvas since I was 17.
I started cooking again—not rushed dinners, but slow, joyful meals for one.
I even said “no” to a work promotion—not because I lacked ambition but because I realized I didn’t want more stress; I wanted more life.
For the first time in years, I wasn’t making decisions based on what others needed. I was choosing based on what I needed.
A Message to Anyone Feeling Quietly Lost
If you’re someone who has followed every rule and done all the “right” things but still finds yourself feeling empty, please know you’re not alone.
Sometimes, it’s not about making big changes. Sometimes, it’s about sitting still long enough to hear the part of you that’s been whispering, “I miss you.”
POP Workshop wasn’t therapy. It wasn’t coaching. It was simply a space that allowed me to be human again.
And in that space, I chose something I hadn’t chosen in years:
Myself.
I chose to stop performing.
I chose to stop pretending.
I chose start listening—to my body, my heart, my needs.
It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t loud. But it was real.
So if you’re reading this and wondering if it’s too late to feel alive again, it’s not. One honest moment.
For me, that step was the POP Workshop.
And I’ll always be grateful I took it.
