Category: Personal essays

Open Letter to My Daughter on Mother's Day - Diane Lee

Open Letter to My Daughter on Mother’s Day

My darling daughter, On Mother’s Day, every year, I like to remember when you were born. You came into the world at 2:07 am on March 24, 1993. It was the happiest, most joyous, wonderful day of my life. When you were born, I held you in my arms—after a two-days-plus labour that ended in

Soup for the Soul - Diane Lee

Soup Soothes the Soul

When it’s cold in Hanoi – the air weirdly humid and the moisture from the air collects on my face, which I blot with a serviette that leaves traces of delicate, white paper on my forehead and cheeks like freckles – the weather is perfect for soup. Actually, in Vietnam, any weather – hot, cold

I Stand With Novak - Diane Lee

Why I Stand With Novak

I spent most of last week, glued to Twitter and YouTube, cheering on Novak Djokovic as he took a stand against the Australian government, firstly via the Federal Circuit and Family Court, and then before a full bench of the Federal Court. He won his first case and his visa cancellation was overturned, but he

Diane Lee - Never Say Never Again

Never Say Never Again

I’ve been to university three times in my life. Three times when I was at a crossroads, where investing in myself and reinventing who I was via learning seemed like the only way forward. The first time was in the late 1980s, at 26, when I was disillusioned with my banking career. The second time

The pandemic, productivity and goals

The Pandemic, Productivity and Goals

Today I went for a run. No big deal, I hear you say. People run all the time. The thing is: I haven’t gone running for 18 months. Not since I was in Hanoi. This pandemic (or rather, the government’s response to the pandemic) has sucked the productivity right out of me. I’ve had no

Triggered - My #MeToo Moment

Triggered by Australia’s PM: My #MeToo Moment

Content warning: this essay talks about sexual assault. Mine. If you are triggered or need help, please contact a Sexual Assault Service. I’ve not thought about it often and when I do, it’s not for long, because I’ve buried it. And I want it to stay buried. But now, at this time in Australia, where women

Repatriating: Some Observations

I’m missing Hanoi like crazy. So much so, that when I see pictures, I get quite teary. I have flashbacks where I see myself walking to the supermarket, cycling to Keep Hanoi Clean, strolling to my Vietnamese lessons at Oriberry, chilling in my apartment and waiting for my Vietnammm order while rain pours down in

Say No Then Yes To The Dress - Diane Lee

Say No, Then Yes, To The Dress

Buying a new frock is not an activity I relish. I wish it were. I want to be one of those women who catches a glimpse of a something shiny on a rack on the far side of the store, tries it on, loves it and whips out her credit card, all within the space

Mothering as a Brief Timeline of Overarching Disappointment

Being a mother was something I always wanted, despite (or because of?) my own childhood. Let’s just say my own mother was less than nurturing and had a violent, nasty streak that meant my psyche was hammered out on an anvil of fear, forged in survival. I knew I could do better, and I did.

Diane Lee - Almost Happy in Hanoi

I’m almost happy in Hanoi again… and here’s why

After all the doom and gloom of the last year or so, this is an “I’m happy in Hanoi again” post. It’s taken a Stupid Fucking Virus™ pandemic, lock down and a bicycle to start enjoying this city again. After a long winter, punctuated by brief bursts of warm weather, summer — with all its

Diane Lee - Anxiety about coronavirus

My anxiety about coronavirus (and it’s not what you think)

Yesterday, I woke up with a familiar feeling gnawing at my insides, and it wasn’t the upset stomach that had appeared out of nowhere (and that I attribute to a veggie burger or onion rings from my favourite burger joint in Hanoi). It’s a feeling I’ve not encountered for a while — at least a

2019 in review - helluva year

2019 in review: it’s been one helluva year

It’s no secret that 2019 has been one helluva year. I have lurched and free-wheeled from crisis to crisis, never feeling I was on solid ground. I felt like I was either wading through partially set concrete or scanning for shifting sands or watching out for storm clouds brewing on the horizon. My boat of

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