Married to the hustle, trying to date happiness

Hey honeys and hustlers,

Today, I’m bringing you some words from Becky Isjwara, the writer behind the Beck At It newsletter. I’ve been following Becky on Substack for some time (yes, Substack is social media), and it’s been awesome to see her journey working with Ali Abdaal to produce videos, writing a book on creativity, and building apps for YouTubers. If that sounds like a lot on top of existing as a human being, then it’s probably what prompted her to write the article below.

I hope you enjoy it.

P.S. Thanks to everyone who participated in the live stream yesterday evening! It was a joy celebrating the 6th anniversary of Honey & Hustle with you all! There are still a few days left to enter the giveaway! What’s up for grabs?! 5 Conntap bracelets, thanks to our podcast friend Mathew Passy! I’ll even throw in some stickers when I mail them to you. To be eligible:

Good luck and Happy Saturday!

My family was here last week. We rode the ferry across Victoria Harbour, scoured the streets for char siu, and even went to an Ali Abdaal event. By all external measures, it was a good week. And I thought I was enjoying it.

But twice during their short visit, my dad asked me the same question: What do you do in your spare time?

I didn’t know how to answer.

Quite honestly, I don’t know what “spare time” means. Any sliver of solo time outside of work gets rammed full with more work. And even that hasn’t been enough.

I used to have a rule: I don’t work when I’m spending quality time with other people. But my dad’s question made me realise I’d quietly let work bleed into family-and-friends time too.

I’ve noticed myself getting irritated at social events that drag on for “too long.” It sounds awful when I type it in full, but spending time with people had started to feel like it was getting in the way of my productivity.

Family staying over gets in the way of client work. Friends lingering after dinner get in the way of laundry. Mentoring a university student gets in the way of writing.

So I tried to solve the problem by doing the most insidious thing possible: bringing work into quality time.

Shouldn’t I just be myself, after all? Why pretend to be this fully present person when I’m clearly not? The real ones won’t judge. They’ll accept me for who I am. Right?

And that’s how I slowly turned into the exact workaholic menace I used to judge.

Pushing back a Disneyland trip by half a day because I was up late doing client work. Marrying date nights with shop talk. Bringing up personal-development YouTube videos at family gatherings.

Somewhere along the way, I forgot something obvious: work is not the destination. It’s just another point on the map. A goalpost that will move the second I reach it.

If you zoom out, the research is painfully clear. One of the strongest predictors of long-term happiness isn’t achievement or income. It’s deep, meaningful relationships. The fun. The tears. The live-laugh-loving in between all of life’s obligations.

So why do I keep trying to hustle it away?

I can’t speak for anyone else, but for me, happiness is tightly intertwined with autonomy and economic security. I grew up witnessing money creep into family arguments. Watching it quietly cap our aspirations. Watching it decide what was “realistic” and what wasn’t.

I know money can’t buy happiness. But I’ve also seen how throwing money at a problem works often enough to be convincing.

My mom used to tell me: enakan nangis di benz daripada di becak. It’s nicer to cry in a Mercedes instead of a rickshaw.

I’ve internalised more of that mindset than I’d like to admit. When I came out as gay and realised how many government benefits might never apply to me (have you seen how expensive it is to have a baby as a same-sex couple?) I decided that money couldn’t be the limiting factor in my life.

On top of that, since March I’ve been surrounded by people in Ali’s orbit who are business owners. They have fun, flexibility, freedom, all because of money. All earned through working really, really hard.

So I let myself get carried by the tide.

More money meant more work. Because I can have it all, but not all at once, I chose to front-load the work.

But now, looking back on the year, something feels off.

I don’t remember most of the achievements. I remember all the things I once dismissed as “time-wasting.” Walks around the Peak Circle. Movie nights that led to late-night snackage time. French toast with kaya butter in a Hong Kong cha chaan teng.

And honestly? I can’t remember a single 1-of-10 video giving me that same kind of happiness.

This holiday season, my instinct was to hustle straight through Christmas and New Year’s. Work is winding down, I’m spending Christmas alone, so technically, I have all the time.

But maybe it doesn’t have to be that way.

I could host a Christmas dinner. Call a few friends. Or even - audible gasp - just chill.

Yes, I’m married to the hustle (that’s just the life of a showgirl, babe).

But that doesn’t mean I have to sacrifice happiness to prove it.

🥱 Ironically, I am typing this out at 1:32AM, firmly crowding out joy for more ambition…