My Story

"The Promise That Changed Everything"

For eight years, I wore the badge with pride. I served as a police officer — fulfilled by duty, driven by purpose. I had seen life in its rawest form: injustice, resilience, redemption. I was doing well. Rising in the ranks. Passionate about my path.

But life has a way of showing you what really matters.

My dad — our family’s quiet anchor — was still driving a taxi long after glaucoma had blurred his world.

A drunk pedestrian darted across the road. 

Metal met flesh. Sirens. Court dates.

And there I sat, watching the man who had taught me courage now trembling on the stand.

In that courtroom, two truths collided:

1. Time is merciless — It aged my hero while I was busy pursuing my career.

2. Money decides too much — It kept my dad behind the wheel and my mum’s dreams on hold.

That moment broke something in me — and built something new.

I vowed:

• He carried us for decades. Now, I'll carry him.

• Mum will choose her days, not sacrifice them.

• My future family will inherit options, not obligations.

Even with promising progression in the force, I felt the shift. What once felt like purpose now felt like comfort. I knew: if I didn’t leap, I would settle.

I chose a different path. One filled with uncertainty — but also hope. I entered the world of financial services.

In this journey, I’ve met so many clients who became my teachers.

• A single mother, battling illnesses while juggling multiple jobs. She had always held it together — until she couldn’t. That day, she sat across me and cried. Not from weakness, but from years of silently breaking, with no one to catch her fall.

• A young couple, who's toddler got critically ill. The fear of losing their child was one thing. The fear of not being able to afford the care she needed, was another. That day, we realised protection isn’t a luxury. It’s a responsibility.

• An old uncle, who lives alone, well past retirement age, still slogging just to get by. When he received his retirement payout, he cried — not from sadness, but from freedom. “I can finally rest,” he said. “I didn’t think this day would come.”

Through them, I understood:

Financial planning isn’t about numbers. It’s about dignity. It’s about options. It’s about peace of mind.

Today, I strive to be the advisor my parents never had — and the advocate every family deserves.

Because in Singapore, we’re taught to work hard — but not always taught how to plan smart.
Because too many families suffer not from bad luck, but from not knowing what could’ve been done earlier.
Because planning isn’t just about wealth. It’s about love, responsibility, and peace of mind.

If my story speaks to you — maybe it’s time we talk about yours.