Home Felt Different This Time
- Timothy Nguyen
- Apr 28
- 5 min read
From New York to Paris to choosing to come home to Manila, Tim’s journey shows that sometimes the biggest dream is who you become when you return.
What happens after you achieve your dream? It’s a question most people don’t expect to face this early in their careers, and I never thought I would either.
5 years old at San Francisco
I still remember the first time I watched The Devil Wears Prada. I wasn’t thinking about job titles or career paths. I didn’t know anything about industries or what it meant to build a career. I just remember watching a world that felt so far removed from mine and thinking, I want that kind of life.
Not the clothes or the glamour, but the feeling of being somewhere unfamiliar, somewhere that pushes you to grow.
New York and Paris felt like places that belonged to a different version of me. Back then, those dreams felt distant, almost out of reach. But they stayed with me in quiet, persistent ways, sharing the choices I made and the risks I was willing to take.
After Minnesota, I went back to the Philippines because I didn’t have it all figured out yet.
I took up Organizational Communication and joined the De La Salle University Liberal Arts Student Government, saying yes to almost everything. Events, projects, anything that let me build something with other people.
It was messy and never really perfect, but it taught me how to figure things out as I went.
Looking back, that was where I learned to be okay with not knowing what comes next, and trusting that I’d get there anyway.
That belief eventually brought me from DLSU all the way to the American University of Paris.
I remember my first night in Paris. I had just arrived, jet-lagged and completely alone, standing on a quiet street that didn’t feel real yet. The air was colder than I expected, and the buildings looked exactly like the ones I used to see on screen. For a moment, everything felt still.
I thought that moment would feel like certainty. Instead, it felt quiet.
Not in a bad way, just unfamiliar. I remember instinctively reaching for my phone, as if there was someone I could call to say, I’m here. But there wasn’t. And in that moment, I realized something I hadn’t expected. Getting there doesn’t feel the way you think it will.
Schoolmates at the American University of Paris
From there, life kept moving. There were mornings I got lost on the way to class, pretending I knew where I was going, and small wins that no one else really saw but meant everything to me.
Over time, I learned how to adapt, how to be comfortable in unfamiliar environments, and eventually, how to feel like I belonged.
Work took me across Vietnam and the United States. Airports became familiar, and starting over became something I learned how to do well. And then, almost quietly, I got there. The life I once dreamed about stopped feeling like a dream and became my reality, earlier than I expected.
My previous teams from Vietnam and New York
In New York, the version of the dream that once felt the farthest away, life felt steady in a way I hadn’t experienced before. I was working at a fashion company, had my own apartment, and built routines that made everything feel structured and real. I was happy, not in a loud or overwhelming way, but in a quiet, settled way that told me I had built something meaningful.
And then, just as quietly, a different question started to surface: what now?
No one really talks about that part. There’s so much emphasis on chasing something, on pushing forward, and on reaching the next milestone. But no one prepares you for the moment when you look around and realize you’re already there.
I thought clarity would come with it, that there would always be a bigger goal waiting on the other side. But instead, there was space. Not emptiness, just space. Space to think, to question, and to decide who I wanted to become next without the pressure of chasing something far away.
Having a blast working at PVH Corp
That was harder than I expected.
When you’ve spent so much of your life dreaming about getting somewhere, you don’t realize how much of your identity is tied to the pursuit.
So when the pursuit slows down, you have to learn how to dream again, differently.
Tried out snowboarding, attended Business of Fashion, visited California
I started to understand that dreams don’t end when you reach them. They evolve. They become less about distance and more about direction, less about where you can go and more about where you actually want to be.
Slowly, my priorities began to shift. The places that once felt like destinations became part of the journey, and the things I once thought would define success became just chapters. I found myself wanting quieter, more meaningful things, things that felt less about proving something and more about building something that mattered.
At some point, that shift brought me back home. Not because I ran out of dreams, but because I discovered new ones.
I returned to the same places I once wanted to leave, but they no longer felt the same, not because they had changed, but because I had.
Teammates in Globe that make the daily work better and lighter
Coming home didn’t feel like stepping back. It felt like arriving in a completely different way. For the first time, I wasn’t trying to get somewhere else. I was choosing where I wanted to be.
I realized that growth isn’t always about going farther. Sometimes, it’s about coming back with more to give.
In many ways, this is what it means to create everyday possibilities. Not just chasing what’s out there, but recognizing that there is always something meaningful you can build, right where you are.
2017 in L’Oreal before moving abroad vs 2025 my first day working back in the Philippines
Looking back, the dream was never just New York or Paris. It was becoming someone who could step into the unknown, figure it out, and keep evolving, no matter where life leads.
And sometimes, that journey leads you right back to where you started, but as someone entirely new.
Have you ever wondered where your own “what now?” might lead you? If Tim’s story resonated with you, imagine how many more are unfolding around us. Follow Globe on LinkedIn for more stories that celebrate every kind of journey.
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