Month: March 2025

The Art of Deception: A Reflection After Watching ‘Con Mom’

/ Wen / Leave a comment

Today’s experience left me stunned, a blend of unexpected timing, eerie coincidence, and a sobering wake-up call.

I had a therapy session earlier, and something my therapist said struck me deeply: “The world is no longer what it used to be. Trust is rare, and people are not always what they seem.” At the time, I nodded, half-aware of the weight in her words. It wasn’t until later, when I found myself watching the Netflix documentary “Con Mom,” that her words echoed back, louder, clearer, and sharper.

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This documentary is not just about a scam. It’s about the level of psychological mastery, the emotional manipulation, the chilling way someone can read you, identify your voids, your soft spots, and weaponize them against you. I was horrified… not just by the scammer, but by how easy it is to fall into such a trap when your mind is not clear and your soul is in need.

What shook me most was the realization that what feels real… can be so fake. It’s almost poetic in a tragic way. When you’re missing something in your life, whether love, affirmation, purpose or stability, that emptiness becomes a signal. A signal only the wrong people know how to tune into. They listen, they learn, and then they strike, not with force, but with familiarity. And just like that, you’re pulled into a fantasy spun so well it feels like truth.

This isn’t just about being scammed out of money. It’s a deeper con. It’s the betrayal of your own intuition. It’s the hijack of your mind. And this documentary taught me something I won’t forget:

Never broadcast what you lack.

Because the moment someone knows your vulnerabilities, what you’re craving, what you’re aching for, they can wear the mask of what you’ve always wanted. They play therapist, friend, parent, lover, savior… but it’s all just a script. A performance designed to unlock your trust and steal your agency.

What this entire experience taught me, from therapy to the documentary, is the importance of self-awareness and self-protection. Not paranoia, not coldness, but wisdom. Know yourself enough so no one else can tell you who you are. Heal your own wounds so they don’t become maps for others to exploit.

The real scam is not just the con itself. It’s the illusion that connection can replace discernment.

And so I end this reflection not in fear, but in clarity:

Guard your mind, guard your heart, and don’t let your emptiness echo too loudly.

Because someone, somewhere, is always listening.

Navigating the Thesis Journey: From Submission to Defense

/ Wen / Leave a comment

On 17 February 2025, I submitted my final thesis.

I remember that day. The silent click of “Submit,” the feeling of relief mixed with the kind of exhaustion that seeps into your bones. I had poured myself into this research, line by line, sleepless night by sleepless night. When my professor signed off and approved it on 24 February, it felt like the baton was passed. The next milestone was set: 27 March – Oral Viva.

As I marked the date on my calendar, it felt distant, yet ever-looming like a mountain on the horizon.

Then came 24 March.

An email landed in my inbox, a long, detailed critique from the external examiner, a professor from NUS. I froze. My heart raced as I read through the words. It felt like my entire thesis was being taken apart, examined under a microscope. I thought: This could be bad. What if I can’t defend this? What if I unravel during the oral defense?

But panic eventually gave way to action. I tweaked my slides, reshaped my talking points, and focused intently on addressing the feedback, plugging gaps, reframing arguments, strengthening my theoretical scaffolding. It was a race against time, but I didn’t want to show up unprepared.

And today, 27 March, the curtain lifted.

I delivered my oral presentation. I spoke with clarity, with calm, with something resembling quiet courage.

To my utter surprise, the external examiner, yes, the same professor who had sent that intense email, kept praising me. He said I had done a very good job. That I had addressed his concerns. That he understood my work.

Another professor gently noted: You actually have ideas, strong ones, it’s just that they’re all over the place. You need to weave them better, give them clearer shape. And my professor, with his authority, told me that I had passed with revisions and was given three months to tidy up, polish, and refine.

The entire presentation and Q&A wrapped up in just about an hour. And that was that.

But here’s the part I didn’t expect:

As I sat alone afterwards, processing the moment…
I didn’t feel proud.

No rush of joy, no celebratory tears.
No triumphant soundtrack playing in the background.

Just… stillness.

I wondered: Is something wrong with me?
Why is it that after such a huge milestone, a master’s thesis, a completed viva, I feel more numb than anything?

But maybe, just maybe, this is part of the journey too.
Maybe pride doesn’t always roar.
Maybe, sometimes, it whispers.

Maybe it lives in the quiet act of showing up after fear.
In rewriting slides at the eleventh hour.
In holding your ground during tough questions.
In receiving critique and turning it into growth.

This isn’t the end. It’s a turning point.

Three more months to refine.
Three more months to strengthen the spine of my thesis.
Three more months to allow this quiet, uncelebrated strength to evolve into something bolder.

So here I am.
Not proud in the way I expected.
But steady. Grateful. And still moving forward.