In March 2016, I finally found my first real place to live in Malaysia: a cozy studio apartment at Empire Damansara in Damansara Perdana, Petaling Jaya. It was perfectly located—super close to 1 Utama, IKEA, and the MRT station. Everything felt set up just right for me.
The rent was only RM 1,100 (about $280 USD at the time). Just $280! Whenever I had a little extra cash during the month, I’d pay two months in advance. That sometimes backfired, though—the landlord would occasionally “forget,” and I’d have to pull out proof of payment more times than I care to remember.
The studio came fully equipped with a kitchenette, refrigerator, wet room bathroom, and basic furniture. All I needed to buy were a few dishes and a hotplate. I loved that little place. On rainy days and nights (especially after I moved my bed right by the window), it was incredibly peaceful to just lie there, staring out at the view. Half jungle, half city skyline—a surreal mix that always calmed me.
I started making new friends, going on dates, and even opened a dating app, though I never took it too seriously. Trust was still hard after everything in 2015.
It’s crazy to think that just three months earlier I’d felt so trapped, and now I finally felt relieved. I just wished my sleep had caught up to that feeling. Nightmares still crept in—I’d wake up angry, replaying the past, knowing damn well I couldn’t change it. Letting go of those demons was the hardest part. It took me six full years to truly accept it and move on, but in that moment, I could sense real healing starting. I was happier, and that was proof.
Between planning trips and always scouting the next destination, I dove headfirst into Kuala Lumpur’s nightlife—maybe a bit too much. At first, I hit all the typical tourist spots, but then expat and local friends showed me the better, hidden places. I spent tons of time hanging out in the PJ (Petaling Jaya) area and Bangsar. Beer was cheap and always ice-cold.
I wasted a lot of time socializing and getting drunk. It was fun in the moment, but deep down I knew I was missing the bigger reason I was there: rebuilding my life. It took time, but I eventually got back on track.
There were half-hearted attempts at relationships, but I chose to focus on myself instead. Better to be a little selfish than dive into trouble again, right? I took full advantage of my location and got serious about fitness once more. I did several hikes, including Broga Hill and Kanching Falls. (Pro tip: drink way more water than you think you need in that jungle heat.) The Army never prepped me for tropical trekking, so I learned the hard way that shorts and a tank top aren’t ideal. Mosquito repellent became my best friend—though I still got eaten alive too many times.
One of those stupid mistakes landed me with dengue fever. The muscle aches, the high fever—it was brutal. I should have gone to the hospital, but I was stubborn and tried to ride it out. Not smart. Dengue can be deadly—always see a doctor if you suspect it.
Then, in August, I met someone who truly helped turn my life around.
Cliffhanger!
Traveling Warrior 