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Cindy Ly

Cindy Ly

The First Time I Felt Free

The First Time I Felt Free

Every summer of my childhood began the same way—my father loading up the old conversion van in the driveway, the smell of gasoline and hot asphalt in the air. We’d pack coolers of food, pillows, and enough shrimp chips and mung bean sticky rice to last a cross-country

Sometimes No One Wins, and that's okay

Sometimes No One Wins, and that's okay

When I watched Ken Burns’ documentary on the Vietnam War, there was a line that lodged itself in my chest: “In war, no one wins or loses. There is only destruction.” The Vietnam War claimed millions of lives. It redrew borders, toppled governments, and left a legacy of displacement, grief,

The Unspoken Rules of My Family

The Unspoken Rules of My Family

Every family has unspoken rules—things you “just know” not to do or say. In my family, the spoken motto between siblings was ignorance is bliss. Our parents were so strict that we learned early to hide almost everything from them just to get an ounce of freedom. That secrecy

Silence, Secrets, and the Space to Speak

Silence, Secrets, and the Space to Speak

While some people can’t stand silence, I can go days without saying anything to anyone—just watching, just listening. Maybe I got that from my father. Maybe it’s why I love solo traveling. I can sit in stillness and just take in the sounds around me. I can

Loving Someone You Don’t Really Know

Growing up with my father in a patriarchal home My father and I don’t have a lot of moments. When I call to say Happy Birthday or Happy Father’s Day, he thanks me and then hands the phone back to my mother. That’s how nearly all of

What My Mother Never Taught Me

What My Mother Never Taught Me

My mother taught me how to survive. She taught me grit. Endurance. How to keep going no matter how hard life became. But she never taught me how to love myself. I grew up believing—deep down—that if I wasn’t perfect, or at least perceived as perfect, no

From Rushing Toward the End to Living in the Middle

From Rushing Toward the End to Living in the Middle

For most of my life, I’ve been in a rush. Rushing to get to class. Rushing to an appointment. Rushing to say what I wanted to say—only to stumble over my words because I was trying to fit them into a space that never felt long enough to