I was 27 when I became a design lecturer at Nanyang Polytechnic.

It was a huge opportunity. But from day one, I felt like I didn’t belong.

Most of my colleagues were 10–30 years older than me. Some had decades of experience in the field. And they let me know it.

📌 On my first day, a manager I’d never met pulled me aside for an impromptu “portfolio check.” She hadn’t interviewed me, but it felt like she was testing if I was really qualified.

📌 At lunch, another manager said, “Management probably chose you because you’re cheaper.”

📌 And then the worst one— a renowned designer with a President’s Design Award refused to shake my hand and said, “Not enough experience.”

In front of my students. In front of my colleagues.

I remember sitting in my office later that day, replaying those words.

Maybe they’re right.

Maybe I shouldn’t be here.

Maybe I need more experience before I can teach others.

But then, I asked myself:

Why did I take this job in the first place?

It wasn’t because I thought I knew everything. It was because I wanted to bring a fresh perspective to design education—something more practical, industry-relevant, and real.

That thought kept me going.

By the end of my first year?

I won a teaching award.

And that moment taught me something I’ve carried with me ever since:

📌 You will always face criticism.

📌 People will always doubt you.

📌 But if you know why you’re here, you keep going.

Now, whenever I pitch an idea, present a project, or propose a change, I push as hard as I can.

But if it gets rejected? I don’t take it personally.

Your worth isn’t tied to someone else’s approval.

You are not your job title. You are not your portfolio. You are not someone else’s opinion of you.

You’re here for a reason.

So the next time someone doubts you, ask yourself:

Do they define my path? Or do I?