05/31/2026
As May comes to an end, this is an important month for Moshruums. It’s both AAPI Heritage Month and Mental Health Awareness Month, two things that have shaped my life in ways I never expected.
This year, I’ve found myself thinking less about awareness and more about what people don’t see.
Many people know me as someone who is always smiling.
The person talking about mushrooms.
The person showing up at markets.
The person who seems positive all the time.
But I’ve learned that a smile doesn’t tell the whole story.
Through Moshruums, I’ve had the privilege of meeting so many people who trust us with their stories. Many of you have shared your struggles, fears, hopes, family challenges, and personal journeys. Those conversations are never something I take lightly.
I want you to know how grateful I am for that trust. Because the truth is, I understand more than I often let on.
Over the years, I have experienced loss, trauma, heartbreak, betrayal, depression, and seasons of my life where I no longer recognized the person looking back at me in the mirror. I’ve questioned my worth, my safety, my identity, and my ability to trust. I’ve also watched people I love battle depression, psychosis, and other challenges that can completely change a family’s world.
At the same time, I’ve spent years volunteering in orphanages, senior homes, and hospitals, using music to bring comfort, connection, and moments of joy to others.
What all of these experiences taught me is something simple:
You never really know what someone is carrying.
The most confident person in the room may be fighting a battle you cannot see. The person who makes everyone laugh may be holding deep sadness. The person who appears strong may simply be doing their best to keep moving forward.
Sometimes a smile is happiness.
Sometimes it’s resilience.
And sometimes it’s the face we wear while we heal.
As an Asian woman, I also grew up in a culture where many difficult things were not openly discussed. Mental health wasn’t always something we had words for. Pain was often carried quietly. We were taught to keep going, work harder, stay grateful, and not burden others.
For a long time, I thought carrying everything myself was simply part of being strong. Life eventually taught me otherwise.
One of the greatest gifts in my own healing has been discovering the power of connection. A trusted friend. A supportive family member. A community. Someone willing to sit beside you and remind you that you don’t have to carry everything alone.
Today, I want to acknowledge the people carrying burdens that others cannot see.
The people grieving, the people healing, the people rebuilding after betrayal or loss, the people supporting loved ones through mental illness, the parents navigating postpartum depression, the people who wake up every day and keep going, even when it feels impossible.
If that’s you, I see you.
And if someone in your life always seems happy, confident, or put together, I hope you’ll remember that kindness is never wasted. The people who smile the brightest often have stories you’ll never fully know.
As AAPI Heritage Month and Mental Health Awareness Month come to a close, I’m feeling grateful, for resilience, for community, and for the people who have walked beside us through both joy and hardship.
Thank you for being here.
With love,
Pei
