I'm Gwen Yi.
In my 32 years of life, I’ve held many identities:
Youth leader. Crazed overachiever. Tech startup CEO wannabe. College dropout. Community builder. Founder of Tribeless.
And most recently, Astrologer & Identity Coach. 🪐
You might know me as one, some, or none of those. Personally, I’m still trying to reconcile with a few.
But I know they’ll always be a part of my story.
So here it is, in four parts…
First written on August 20, 2019. Last updated: May 7, 2026.
PART I: OVERACHIEVER
Growing up, I had everything a little girl could want – Barbie Dreamhouses, Faber-Castell stationery, an endless roster of activities.
I just didn’t have a happy family.
My parents split up when I was 10. When my mom moved my sister and I into our grandmother’s house, she only had RM27 (~US$7) in her pocket.
I took it upon myself to be strong for my little sister, acting like none of it affected me.
That decision led to a life of perfectionism, suppression and self-isolation. I strove for excellence in and out of the classroom, often staying up to 3AM – partly to study for exams, but mostly to exhaust myself to a point where I could finally sleep.
When friends (and boyfriends) drifted out of my life, I made no attempt to keep them. I convinced myself that everything comes to an end anyway – much like my parents’ marriage.
I was miserable, lonely and afraid. But I thought it was normal; like this is how life was meant to be.
To fill the void of meaningful relationships, I buried myself in my work. That was how I found myself #hustlin' as a young entrepreneur, trying to prove my worth in Malaysia’s then-nascent startup scene.
By the time I turned 21, I was attending town-halls with President Obama, winning global tech competitions, and living the dream in Silicon Valley – where I was determined to live out my destiny as the next Mark Zuckerberg.
On the outside, everything looked perfect, like the glossy photos I would publish on Facebook.
But inside, I was crumbling.
It was just a matter of when I would collapse.
PART II: COLLAPSE
You’ve probably heard some version of this story somewhere, but I’ll sum it up for you here:
I burnt out, got depressed, and dropped out of university. (For the astrologically inclined – this was also the time of my Saturn square.)
In the aftermath of that, I lost everything – my passion. My ambition. My network. My identity.
I moved back home to Malaysia to figure things out.
I thought I’d have the space to heal, but it felt like I was taking 10 steps back.
The year was 2016. Mental health was still taboo.
There were no safe spaces for people to talk about what they were going through. It was the loneliest time of my entire life.
Things started to look up when I hosted my first Tribeless Conversation.
10 people gathered in a pizza parlor, with one simple rule: No small talk.
It was the most cathartic, compassionate conversation I had all year.
"There's something here," I remember whispering to myself as I headed home that night. Little did I know how true that would turn out to be.
Six years later, TRIBELESS® grew into a global empathy training company working with organizations and leaders from over 30 countries.
Those dinner parties we hosted became the basis of The Empathy Box, a facilitation tool that creates safe spaces for people to practice empathy in a group conversation. (It was even featured on TED.com!)
It was my first business, and my first love.
I learned so much. I gave it my all. It was exciting, and fulfilling... until, it wasn't.
I couldn't pinpoint when exactly I fell out of love with Tribeless. All I knew was that one day, I was working 18-hour days out of genuine passion...
... And the next, I could barely bring myself out of bed.
We kept going, of course. How could we not?
Eventually, it all came to a head in 2022 when, in a freak turn of events, half my team quit within the span of a week.
And in that sudden space, I could breathe. I wasn't responsible for their livelihoods anymore.
I could give myself grace. I could give myself the space...
To discover who I really am.
PART III: BECOMING
2022 was the year I chose to do something different.
I embarked on a 100-day creative project – making art every day, for a hundred days.
I took walks everyday. Listened to podcasts. Sat in silence, and watched in awe as Mother Nature did her thang.
I dabbled in so many things — photography, drawing, crystals, video editing — that at first, I didn't notice my love for Astrology was growing.
It was a seed planted deep in the soil of my soul.
I found myself looking up transits, reading up on my placements, thinking about it almost every hour of the day.
As someone who had taken every personality test under the Sun, knew her MBTI at age 14, and studied humans obsessively for years (ahem Tribeless), Astrology offered something that nothing else did:
A map.
A system for understanding and reconciling all the different parts of myself.
When a scholarship opportunity came up for Debra Silverman's Applied Astrology School, I jumped at the chance – and got in.
I worked hard. Aced my studies. Graduated full ride in June 2023, and started my full time astrology practice almost immediately.
I set a goal that first year: 100 readings in 12 months.
I missed it by 3 months, clocking the milestone on 19 March, just one day before the astrological new year (guess I should have been more specific ;).
Being an astrologer broke me open.
Allowed all my senses to come alive. I stopped relying on my brain as much; welcomed the wild, intuitive femininity I'd spent my entire life suppressing.
This quest to unlock my feminine side led me to swing dancing – my first partner dance, and the start of the most vibrant love affair of my life.
Dancing as a follow taught me to surrender. To pay attention to my body, the music, my partner. I began to connect with my physical self in ways I never had before.
Slowly but surely, Friday social dancing nights became a standing date, and the Lindy Hop community became my family.
It was through their loving support that I eventually found the courage to leave my 8-year relationship with Shawn.
PART IV: INTEGRATION
In the wake of the separation, I moved into a temporary house with my Lindy Hop friends.
I became single and independent for the first time in a decade. (For the astrologically inclined – this was my Saturn Return.)
Letting go of the life I had with my ex meant letting of the last bits of external structure I had been using to hold myself together.
I stayed in a liminal state for almost a year:
Playing, volunteering, dancing.
I stopped outwardly selling for my business, my astrology practice.
I thought I was being lazy. Turns out, I was just integrating.
Doing therapy. Getting diagnosed for ADHD. Learning to make coffee and file taxes and trap mice. Long conversations at the dining table, processing emotions, love, life.
When my mother surprised me with the gift of my own home, I cried.
A home.
After 14 years of moving, I could finally be rooted.
No more running. No more excuses.
The day I moved in, I knew this is where I would build my next chapter.
Two months after I moved in, I hired a coach.
It was a woman I had wanted to work with for years. She had reappeared seemingly out of nowhere, offering a container on Self Trust.
Over the years, through astrology and healing and choosing myself, that was the exact muscle I'd been trying to develop: Learning to trust and hold myself through all my iterations.
So I said yes.
This is where I am now, the place I am writing to you from:
A state of integration.
Bringing all the different parts of me, from all my different eras – the overachiever, the dropout, the founder, the astrologer, the swing dancer - into one cohesive whole.
It is perhaps the most intimate, heart-wrenching, devastating, eye-opening work I have ever done.
What it has shown me is that I am strong enough to do it.
But I don't have to do it alone.
And you don't, either.
If you see yourself in my story, in the myriad of iterations of self I've lived through, in the despair and confusion and liminal space, the bone-deep love for life and all that it has to offer — it is my honor to walk beside you.
— Browse through my work.
— Read more about my methodology.
— Take the quiz to see what is out of balance.
But most importantly, take a deep breath.
You're already on the Map.
You just haven't learned to read it yet.