My name is Darren Lim. I’m 41, and I work as a senior operations supervisor at a shipping company in Singapore. For most of my life, I kept my head down. I did what was expected. I was the eldest son, the provider, the one who never complained. I was the “solid” guy. Reliable. Quiet. Predictable.
But there’s a loneliness that comes with always being strong. Especially when no one sees what it’s costing you inside.
For years, I ignored the tightness in my chest, the sleepless nights, the way I snapped over small things. I told myself it was just stress. Work pressure. Family commitments. Being a man.
Then One Morning, I Couldn’t Breathe — And It Wasn’t Physical
It wasn’t a heart attack. It wasn’t asthma. It was just… this crushing feeling like I was buried under my own silence. That was the moment I knew something had to give.
A friend of mine from the cycling group — someone I used to think was “too emotional” — told me about a space he joined recently called POP Workshop. He said it helped him unpack things he didn’t even know he was carrying. I laughed it off at first. But something in me was curious.
I didn’t want therapy. I didn’t want to cry in front of strangers. I just wanted to feel… something. So I signed up.
No Labels. No Titles. Just People Being Honest
At POP Workshop, I met people from all walks of life. A teacher. A mother of three. A startup guy who looked confident but admitted he hated being alone. No one was trying to impress anyone. No one was pretending to be okay.
There was a strange comfort in that. I didn’t have to explain my resume. I just had to be present.
The mentor didn’t lecture us. They asked questions I had never dared to ask myself.
I didn’t know the answers at first. But I started writing. And then, I started speaking.
The First Time I Shared My Feelings, My Hands Were Shaking
I discussed how I always felt the need to protect my younger siblings, and how I never allowed myself to feel weak because I thought it would make me useless. I shared how I never told anyone that I once wanted to be a writer, but gave it up because “writing doesn’t pay the bills.”
I was expecting judgment. What I got was silence. And then nods. And then someone said, “I feel that too.”
That’s when I realized: I wasn’t alone. I was never alone.
After POP Workshop, I Didn’t Become a Different Person — I Became More Me
I still have my job. I still wake up early, go through traffic, and manage work stress. However, I also write in a journal every night now. I joined a short story writing group on weekends. And for the first time in 20 years, I told my father how I felt growing up.
We didn’t have a perfect talk. But it was real. And that was enough.
I Don’t Think POP Workshop “Fixed” Me — I Was Never Broken
It simply permitted me to be human.
If you have been quiet for too long… who thinks strength means silence… maybe it’s time to ask yourself: what would it feel like to be seen?
Because under all the pressure, the roles, the expectations — you’re still there. And maybe you’ve been waiting, like I was, for someone to tell you it’s okay to come home to yourself.
