Whenever I revisit my past writings, I reminisce about the transformation my works have undergone. I sought to distance myself from this digital journal, as vulnerability made me tense. Yet, as time has unfolded, I have come to recognise that these passages are more than personal musings—they are rich anecdotes that hold a unique essence, even if they resonate with a vaster audience.

Frankly, I treated my website as a separate entity because of my lack of confidence and fear of judgement. I started this journey at a young age; unfortunately, being made fun of by my peers hindered me from accepting this part of myself. Despite my intentions to curate content frequently, unanswered questions regarding my target audience emerged, impeding my progress. Initially, I had no compelling reason to consistently create and share content—it was simply a hobby that gradually transformed into a portfolio.

With the growing traffic and recognition Land of the Yute had garnered, I felt a sense of pride and fulfilment in my work. As you may have noticed, a shift has taken place: I have decided to switch my domain name to my name. Many people inquired about the reasoning behind “Land of the Yute” and why I chose not to use my name. I struggled to provide a satisfactory answer, mainly because I was reluctant to confront my fears. It is important for me to claim this as I believe this will be the final step to accepting this part of me.

Initially, Land of the Yute was a digital journal, but over time, it has evolved into something more profound. It has become a collection of visual essays, each capturing a unique aspect of my experiences over the past few years. I developed a distinctive style for crafting these posts, often leaning towards a soliloquy-like approach. It resonated deeply with me. Some may argue that this style is an integral part of my identity. Upon reflecting on these thoughts, I ask myself, “Why not fully embrace who I am?”. I bet my chosen answer is at this point.