Courage

Publishing my memoir—a 75th birthday gift to myself—turned out to be a bigger gift than I imagined. Upon reflecting, I realized I wasn’t just courageous or strong; I was becoming fearless through my experiences.

• Courage to stand up.
• Courage to apply for a grant that led to my first patent, even while fearing rejection.
• Courage to take on the university cafeteria strike, risking expulsion.
• Courage to dare to enter the competition hall in a bridge tournament, even when I felt I didn’t belong there.
• Courage to enter and operate as a board member, not knowing how to conduct myself.

The Writing Journey:

They all fainted in the background when my writing journey began to become a published author. It started almost ten years back with writing blog posts, when there was no AI, in a language that was not even my native tongue. When my spellings, grammar, and expressions were too raw to share. My first email list only had forty names, mostly close friends I dared to reach out to, afraid I’d be laughed at. Today, that list has grown to 3,000, including prestigious board members.

I was emboldened when HuffPost approved me to publish on their site. Hiring editors became a new arena of challenge. Later, hiring a writer to shape my memoir was another leap—especially when I didn’t yet know what I wanted the book to be about. Then, through my editor, I learnt how to present the significant characters in my story effectively, and emphasized “show vs tell”.

And then came public speaking, another act to be learned after turning 75, thanks to Danny’s coaching. Another skill to be learnt through practice: how to draft an outline, how to connect with listeners, and how to leave an impact on their minds.

Reinvention:

When the Internet bubble collapsed, I spent four years trying to revive my company. Every morning I walked in with enthusiasm and courage, determined to keep the fire lit. But the handwriting was on the wall.

Courage also meant leaving behind the familiar and starting over in Silicon Valley. I had to reinvent myself—first as a businesswoman, and later as a CEO. Every step meant proving myself again, often in rooms where I took on a new role.

That reinvention demanded courage not just to build a company, but to build a life in a place where failure was public, and success was never guaranteed.

Was I scared? Yes. Every time.

Courage is not the absence of fear—it is the decision to act despite it. Sometimes, courage meant facing moments I wished would never come. One of the hardest was standing before my employees as company revenues declined, with no viable recovery plan in sight. To look them in the eye, to acknowledge the uncertainty, and to carry responsibility—that was courage of a different kind.

Looking back, I see courage as the thread that connected so many junctures in my life: insecurity and confidence, following and leading, building a business while nurturing a family. Courage was not about being fearless—it was about being willing. Willing to risk your reputation, willing to make a fool of yourself in front of people you are establishing your credibility with, fail, and try again.

In my journey forward, courage still matters. For young professionals, it might mean speaking up in a meeting, pitching an idea, or choosing a path that feels uncertain but true. For others, it might mean daring to pause, reflect, and admit vulnerability.

As I close this year, I realize courage is not a single act—it is a practice. A way of living. And perhaps the greatest gift of reflection is seeing that courage was always there, even when I didn’t recognize it at the time.

If authenticity was about being true, then courage is about daring. Daring to put yourself out there, daring to risk, daring to live fully. That is the arc that defined my journey—and the one I carry forward.