Have I Stayed Curious, True, and Unapologetically Me?

When I think back to how Mosaic first began, I can still feel the excitement that sparked it all. I remember talking with TMarie and Shreyaa about my own goal at the time: I wanted to start streaming—not just for the sake of streaming, but as a way to put myself out there, to share my research and reflections, and to maybe build a community around ideas that mattered to me. I’ve always been drawn to blogging and writing, but streaming seemed like a way to build community alongside putting my thoughts into the world. Then TMarie shared her own vision, and Shreyaa shared hers, and suddenly the pieces started falling into place.

What stood out most was how aligned yet different we all were. Our goals weren’t identical, but they shared this undercurrent: we wanted to create, to experiment, to share what we cared about in ways that connected with others. It felt so refreshing to be with people who had that same creative hunger, even if the outlets looked different. That’s why I suggested we bring our visions together instead of running separate paths—why not make something collective? A blog, a podcast, maybe even YouTube. The idea of blending our voices into one project felt electric. And so Mosaic was born.

The Vision vs. The Reality

In the beginning, I’ll admit, I had a pretty lofty vision of what Mosaic could be. Part of me thought that if we worked hard enough, poured ourselves into it, and kept pushing, it could eventually become something like a full-time gig. I could imagine it: year one or two laying the foundation, and down the line, turning it into something much bigger—a job we loved and shared.

But the reality turned out differently. Over the course of this year, I’ve watched Mosaic shift more into the territory of a side project. It’s something fun and meaningful, yes, but not something that has the same trajectory I once envisioned. There’s a difference between a passion project you hope to scale and a collective creative hobby that enriches your life—and somewhere along the way, Mosaic landed more firmly in the second category.

Letting go of that original dream has been hard. Passion fueled me at the start, and when I realized the group’s trajectory didn’t fully match my own, some of that passion faded. What we’ve built is still valuable—it just isn’t what I thought I was building at first. And I had to grieve that difference.

Curiosity Above All

If there’s one thing that’s remained constant through this journey, it’s curiosity. Mosaic at its core lives up to that part of our tagline—without a doubt.

Some of my favorite moments have been when we tackled topics like hair, colorism, and even most recently, racial insensitivity in K-pop. Of course, a lot of our topics weren’t necessarily in my top list of personal interests—but being pushed to engage with them still gave me something. I may not have surprised myself with new fascinations, but Mosaic taught me the value of depth. It helped me structure reflection in ways I wouldn’t have on my own. Even with topics I’ve always loved—like history, society, and identity—I found myself engaging more deeply, with more intentional reflection than I’d have managed in my own journal or in casual conversations.

That structure of asking questions and taking time to sit with them has seeped into other areas of my life too. While I don’t necessarily feel like my entire approach to curiosity has transformed, I do recognize that Mosaic has made me pause longer, ask better questions, and explore layers more intentionally. Even when my motivation wavered, curiosity kept me tethered to this space.

True and Unapologetically Me? Not Always.

This is the part that feels thornier. Curious? Definitely. True and unapologetically me? I’m not so sure.

For me, being unapologetically myself means being able to speak freely—saying what I mean without having to hold my tongue, knowing that disagreements are welcome and handled with care. It also means creating in ways that feel aligned to what I’m most passionate about, and trusting that my friends will accept and engage with that even if it stretches them.

But a lot of the time, I didn’t feel that freedom within Mosaic. Too often I caught myself holding back—choosing silence in meetings, or shelving an idea before even proposing it. Sometimes it was because I didn’t want to nag or repeat myself again to get something moving. Other times it was because I anticipated my ideas might feel “too blunt” or invite too much sensitivity. So instead of risking tension or derailment, I’d just keep quiet.

That became my default. And even though it kept the group balanced, it also meant I wasn’t showing up as my fullest, most vibrant self. In the beginning, I think I was 80% myself—that’s pretty good. But over time, as compromises stacked up, I found that number dipping lower and lower.

Lessons on Collaboration

One unshakable lesson from this year is just how challenging creative collaboration can be. When we first launched Mosaic, I felt like I’d finally found that elusive thing: a creative team that clicked. I thought we’d bounce ideas off each other, co-create with synergy, and push things into directions none of us could have done individually.

What really happened? Our “collaboration” ended up looking more like coordination. We’d throw out ideas, weigh in briefly, agree or disagree, and then move on. It wasn’t bad—our work got done—but it didn’t feel like the creative spark I’d hoped for. It often felt like checking boxes instead of co-creating art.

That mismatch made me hesitant to share new ideas because whenever I suggested changes, it felt (at least to me) like I was questioning whether Mosaic was “working,” while others seemed more comfortable just coasting with what we had. Over time, that left me feeling somewhat stifled.

If I could go back, I think I’d push myself to communicate how I was feeling earlier rather than letting my frustrations build quietly. Mosaic taught me how silence can preserve group harmony in the short term but erode authenticity in the long term—and that’s a lesson I don’t want to forget.

Growth I’ll Take With Me

Despite the struggles, I can’t deny how much I’ve gained.

Creatively, I’ve developed skills I’m proud of: video editing, storyboarding, scripting, and writing in a disciplined way. I’ve learned how to think about different platforms strategically—even though I don’t love social media, I now understand the mechanics of how it works. Most importantly, my project management has grown in ways that mirror Mosaic’s ups and downs. Being forced to adapt, coordinate, and keep things moving—often without things going at the standard I held—taught me a lot about patience, communication, and leadership.

Those are skills I’ll carry with me no matter where I go. So even if Mosaic hasn’t been everything I expected, it hasn’t been wasted time. Quite the opposite—it’s been a kind of training ground.

Looking Ahead to Year Two

So back to the question: Have I stayed curious, true, and unapologetically me?

Curious? Yes, without a doubt.

True and unapologetically me? Not always.

Looking into Year Two, what I want is to bridge that gap. I want to find ways to bring more of myself—my passions for religion, spirituality, philosophy, history, sociology—into Mosaic, instead of shying away from them or letting them be diluted. I know those interests don’t easily slot into the lighter, pop-culture-driven lane that Mosaic sometimes drifts toward, but I believe they have a place here if I speak up and make space for them.

What I’d love to leave behind is the habit of holding back for the sake of peace. What I want to carry forward is the reminder that curiosity can coexist with authenticity—and that creativity doesn’t have to be compromised just to keep things “comfortable.”

I don’t know exactly what the next year will bring, but here’s what I do know: I still believe in the mission of Mosaic. I still want this to be the space where our friendship strengthens through exploration, where we challenge one another to grow, and where we keep building something together.

And maybe Year Two will be the year I learn how to fully show up—curious, true, and unapologetically me.