This is the final chapter of my 18-Day Diary — a journey I began during a season of quiet recovery, sparked by music, memory, and the surprising comfort of fandom. If you’re just discovering this project, start from the beginning here:

👉 Read Part 1 of the 18-Day Diary

These last six entries reflect a turning point. From the thrill of getting concert tickets to rediscovering old joys like crafting and writing, each entry traces how something as simple as one song or one small act of hope can shift everything.

I never expected to share this much. But now that I have, it feels like I’ve opened a door I don’t want to close.

Day 13 – One Day

When G-Dragon’s 2025 world tour announced just one European stop — Paris — fans joked it was the “Hunger Games of K-pop.” With tens of thousands vying for a few thousand seats, I braced myself for heartbreak.

Laptop open. iPad open. Logged into every presale imaginable. At 9 a.m., the virtual queue was relentless — over 40,000 people ahead of me.

And yet… I made it through.

That confirmation page hit me like a wave. I had a ticket. I was going to Paris. Just last year, I was struggling to leave the house. Now I was planning an international trip. This wasn’t just a concert — it was proof that healing had taken root. ONE DAY had arrived.

Day 14 – Memory

One of my hopes for this year was to make room for more adventure. At first, I imagined that would mean small things — discovering a new coffee shop, visiting a local museum exhibit, or losing myself in an art gallery for the afternoon. But now, I’m planning something much bigger: a trip to Paris to see G-Dragon live. It still feels surreal to say that out loud.

Now I’m booking the train tickets and hotel, planning my little adventures in between. I want to sip hot chocolate at Angelina, buy macarons at Ladurée, browse the shops at Galeries Lafayette, and — most of all — stand in front of Monet’s The Lily Pond at the Musée d’Orsay. These aren’t just tourist stops to check off a list. They’re quiet, intentional moments I’ve dreamt about. Pieces of a memory I’m gently building before the music even begins.

This trip will be more than just a concert. It will be a MEMORY in the making — something beautiful and soft, woven from familiar comforts and new experiences. A chance for my husband and me to share something special, side by side, making new memories together in a romantic city. It feels like turning a corner toward joy, one beautiful moment at a time.

Day 15 – Song

Lately, I’ve been noticing joy again in the quiet spaces. It’s not loud or overwhelming — it’s subtle, like a familiar melody returning after a long silence. An afternoon walk along the Thames, seeing the baby ducks swimming in the park, a barista who remembers my coffee order. These small notes in a larger song have become the steady, kind background music to my life. Reassuring and gentle.

Some afternoons, I settle into my favourite café with a book open and my journal nearby. I watch people pass, sip my drink slowly, and let the quiet companionship of the city soothe me. Other times, I find joy in the rhythm of my own hands — crafting, organizing beads or yarn. It’s not always profound, sometimes just peaceful. But that’s a kind of magic too.

There’s a SONG running through all of it — not always literal, though G-Dragon often fills my headphones. It’s a song of returning to myself, note by note. In the things that once felt impossible: getting out of bed, smiling at strangers, feeling like I belong again. The tempo is gentle, but it’s building, carrying me forward.

Day 16 – Boy

These journals started as a reflection of my recovery — tracing how one artist, one genre, unexpectedly helped pull me through a hard season of depression and anxiety. What I didn’t expect was that writing these entries would reconnect me to a part of myself I’d almost forgotten: the part that loves writing, shaping thoughts into sentences, sharing stories from the heart. It reminded me of my old blog — my little online haven where I used to post about books, crafts, and travel.

Back then, blogging felt like journaling with the door slightly open — my own corner of the internet where I could create freely and reflect honestly. I shared book reviews, crochet updates, snapshots from holidays, and small, lovely things that made life feel more whole. Somewhere along the way, I lost that version of myself — not overnight, but slowly, as depression crept in. But something about following this boy’s journey — his art, his evolution — lit a creative spark in me again.

So, I’m going to restart my blog. I want to write about the things I love: crafting projects, fangirl adventures, TV reviews, playlists, memories, and journal spreads. Not for validation — just because it brings me joy. This little writing project reminded me that creativity is still mine. It never really left — it was just waiting for me to come back.

Day 17 – Daisy.

Finding joy in crafting has been a gentle rediscovery — a way to use my creativity to express myself and bring a little happiness into my days. After months of feeling stuck and overwhelmed, picking up beads and thread again feels like a small act of healing. It’s calming and grounding, reminding me that I can create something beautiful even when things feel uncertain.

When I ordered daisy charms, it felt like a small but meaningful step. These little flowers, simple yet full of symbolism, represent hope and resilience — themes that resonate deeply with me right now. Making friendship bracelets with them isn’t just about crafting; it’s about weaving those feelings into something tangible that I can share.

I’m excited about meeting fellow fans before the concert in Paris this September, handing out these little freebies as a way to connect and share a moment together. There’s a special warmth in those small exchanges — it’s about more than just the bracelets; it’s about feeling part of something bigger, a community brought together by music and shared joy.

Day 18 – Youth

There was a time, not long ago, when I worried that my best years were behind me. Living with anxiety and depression made me feel like the future held nothing new — just repetition and emptiness. I grieved for the version of me that once felt adventurous, excited, hopeful. I thought she was gone for good. But slowly, day by day, moment by moment, she’s returning.

This journey — from hearing “Crooked” one quiet night to buying concert tickets in a frenzy of hope — has brought something back I didn’t even know I’d lost: my YOUTH. Not in age or energy, but in spirit. In curiosity, in joy, in the willingness to dream again. And that youth isn’t something I’m trying to recapture. It’s something I’m actively living now. Through music, through writing, through crafting, through connection.

This isn’t the end of the story — it’s just a pause, a reflection, before the next chapter begins. What started as a few journal entries during a difficult season has become a map of how I found my way back to myself. I’m still growing, still healing, still learning how to carry both joy and sadness — and live with anxiety too. But now I know that neither is final. There is always more waiting. More laughter, more friendship, more adventures. And that, more than anything, is what YOUTH means to me now: possibility.

What Comes Next…

Eighteen entries. Eighteen days. What began as a journaling exercise grew into something intimate, messy, and beautiful.

From raw honesty to rediscovered joy, these posts helped me map my way back to myself — and I hope, if you’ve followed along, they’ve lit a spark for you too.

💬 Have you ever found healing in unexpected places — music, art, fandom? Leave a comment below. I’d love to hear your story.

🎟️ And if you’re heading to the Paris concert — come say hi. I’ll be the one with a daisy bracelet and a wide-open heart.

🔗 ← Read Part 2 of the 18-Day Diary
🔗 → This is the final post (for now) — but more joy is always ahead.

Featured Image by Chris Molloy (Pexels)