Life is a funny way of teaching new things.
In 2017, I graduated from SMU. I had just moved to San Francisco and was working in a sales position at Oracle. I was ready to sell some tech and build a life in the real world.
I mean, just look at that headshot. I was ready to take on the world and life seemed to be falling into place. Everything was planned out. But at the same time, my life felt unfulfilling. I just didn’t know why.
And I could never have guessed how my life was about to change…
Since 2010, I had health issues. Daily migraines, vertigo, exhaustion, weight loss, brain fog, confusion, and joint pain. The list could go on. In 2013, I saw 39 doctors. I was struggling to exist. But they couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me, and as a result, they told me I was making the symptoms up or severely exaggerating them.
Over time, I began to believe them. Maybe this was how everyone felt in college?
But then, in the summer of 2018, I couldn’t take it anymore. It got to the point where I was having trouble speaking. I couldn’t remember simple things like the names of my family members. I was sleeping close to 14 hours a day and struggling to walk as I got weaker day after day.
By then, I knew it wasn’t in my head. Something was truly wrong.
I told my family, and within 24 hours, I was scheduled to see some of the best doctors in the Bay Area. The next day they ran test after test. Sixty-seven vials of blood, MRIs, and countless meetings.
When we got the results back, they gave me six months to live.
I was diagnosed with Chronic Lyme Disease, CIRS (Chronic Inflammatory Response Syndrome), MCAS (Mast Cell Activation Syndrome), POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome), Chronic EBV, and many other things. As of today, I’ve racked up over two dozen diagnoses.
This undoubtedly put me in the lowest place I’d ever been, physically and mentally.
And yet…
THIS WAS THE BEST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED TO ME.
When everything fell apart, I finally had to face myself.
Lying on a couch, unable to move, I started to question what I had built my life around. Success, approval, control. Things that looked good on paper but didn’t mean much when everything was stripped away.
I had always played it safe—choosing the major, the job, even the identity that looked good on paper. I had given up on playing college golf, telling myself I wanted to “enjoy school,” when the truth was: I was scared. Scared to fail. Scared to not be good enough. Golf had been my thing since I was a kid. And walking away from it left something unresolved in me.
The more honest I got, the more I saw how fear had shaped my choices. And slowly, I started chipping away at that outer shell.
Through mindfulness, Buddhism, and emotional honesty, I began reconnecting with the part of me I had lost: the part that believed in something greater than fear.
But over the years, the treatments never went how we planned. People around me got better, but I kept getting sicker. Something had to change…
In 2024, I flew to Germany for one last shot.
I had tried almost everything in the U.S., so I packed a suitcase and flew to Bavaria for what was supposed to be a six-week treatment stay. It turned into six months in a German hospital.
Some of the treatments helped. Some didn’t. But what it gave me was another opportunity to reflect on my life, who I was, and how I was navigating this healing journey of mine.
That’s when I started doing more than just the deeper work. I began retraining my brain. I began subconscious rewiring, daily emotional training, and slowly reconnecting with what made me feel joy and connected to life. I started writing again. I started looking toward what was going well in my life, rather than toward the next treatment on the plan. And I started remembering who I was underneath the fear.
Each time I returned to what I love, it felt like peeling back one more layer. Each time I let go of a form of external validation, I found a new part of myself.
That’s how Your Golden Buddha was truly born.
It came out of the desire that what I was going through was not going to be in vain, that the lessons learned here could maybe help someone else going through something similar. There would be purpose in my pain.
And so the inner work became something that was not just for me, but could provide a guide to others who are lost in the dark, to those who don’t know who they are or what they want. To savor every last drop of this lifetime.
I’ve had to rebuild my life from the ground up more times than I can count. But I keep coming back because I believe in this version of me that refuses to quit. I believe everyone has this trait—the desire to be something greater than we are now. And that is what I hope my writing can help people uncover.
I would never wish this pain or disease on anyone, but I hope that by writing about my struggles, failures, and lessons learned, I can help at least one person gain a deeper understanding, appreciation, and love for themselves. I don’t regret any of the choices I’ve made, or the path I’ve taken thus far because it has all led me to this moment and this place in the universe. I couldn’t have done this without the support of my family, friends, and community around me. I’m grateful every day for how you’ve helped me, and I hope I can repay your love and kindness, and then some.