In Mae Sot, a Burmese journalist explains how the stories she reports have begun to feel like her own burdens. After fleeing the 2021 coup, she has lived in exile for years, carrying the suffering of others as if it were her own.
At 19, she joined protests in Yangon, but escalating violence forced her to flee. She crossed into Thailand and settled in Mae Sot, where a free journalism course helped transform her passion into a profession.
She started with brief news items, then expanded into feature stories and video reports, eventually becoming a news presenter. Proud of her identity, she always used her real name, believing authenticity was essential to truth.
Journalism taught her to separate her emotions from the story, but interviews with survivors of violence and displacement left her carrying their grief. The heaviness that followed—an inability to eat, a tight chest, a sense of numbness—became a recurring pattern.
Over time, the toll manifested as fatigue, irritability, overthinking, and strained relationships. Yet, when she left the office with camera and tripod, walking winding roads and listening to ordinary people, part of that exhaustion eased. Fieldwork offered a brief respite from the constant weight.
The pandemic and the political crisis disrupted her education, leaving journalism as her only income. When a program she worked for closed, she endured seven months of unemployment. The fear of never finding another journalism job prompted her to consider a career change, but she eventually returned to reporting and presenting, motivated by a genuine love for the work.
Despite her passion, income in exile is unstable, and the longing to return home—particularly to her mother—remains strong. She dreams of bringing her family to visit, but financial limits make that difficult. The fear of losing her mother before she can see her again adds another layer of anxiety.
She tried counseling, but each session cost more than 800 THB (about USD 24), a price she could not sustain. Hospitalised twice for serious conditions, she faced the added stress of medical care abroad. These experiences prompted her to move from attempting a complete overhaul to embracing gratitude for small victories.
She now focuses on appreciating the present—a clear sky, a finished assignment, the support of listeners who ask if she is okay. She recognises that she cannot shoulder everything alone and that a simple act of care can feel like medicine for the mind.
While she still worries about her future and the road home, she has learned that living day by day and caring for herself is as important as telling others’ stories. Her journey illustrates the delicate balance between professional duty and personal wellbeing in exile.
