My First Solo Journey to Hong Kong: Reconnecting with Dad

To anyone who believes that once a relationship is strained, it can never truly heal — this is for you.

[embed]A week with dad in HongKong

I’m a fashion design student at NIFT Hyderabad, and in June 2025, right after exhausting rounds of juries, I took my first solo trip to Hong Kong. What was initially meant to be a routine visa renewal turned into something far more meaningful. Destiny really has its way of unfolding the perfect opportunities at the perfect time; and this trip proved exactly that.

My dad and I have always loved each other deeply, but we were never good at expressing it. We’re similar that way — emotional yet guarded. During my early teenage years, a few of my own mistakes created distance between us. Over time, things got better, but something always felt incomplete. I missed feeling like his daughter in the way I once had.

Hong Kong became the space where that quietly changed.

Our days fell into a simple rhythm — waking up late, breakfast together, him attending meetings while I slowly started my day with pilates, followed by spontaneous plans, long walks, and dinners at places we were curious about. It was nothing extraordinary on paper, yet everything about it felt special. It made me realise how much joy exists in the smallest, most ordinary moments.

On my first day, he picked me up from the airport at 6 a.m., already having thought through places he wanted to take me. That effort stayed with me. We ended the day with an evening cruise, where I felt seasick within ten minutes. Somehow, we got through it. Later, I stole his jacket for pictures — something about that felt oddly comforting. Also, my dad? The best photographer I know.

As a fashion student, I couldn’t ignore the luxury stores lining the streets. Walking past Chanel and Dior wasn’t just exciting, it was motivating. The city, in its own way, pushed me to dream a little bigger.

And then came Cheesecake Factory. I’m not someone who usually eats and tells, but in this case, I would like to eat and YELL. It was that good. (And I’m not even a foodie, so that says a lot.)

The rest of the week unfolded through small but meaningful experiences. Watching a horse race, visiting a temple, exploring showrooms and walking through the city with no real plan. There were also moments that felt almost unexpected — like him taking me to a club for the first time or sneaking me into the Macau casino where we ended up winning a couple of bets together. Watching him celebrate like that, so carefree and excited, made something shift within me. I just felt like his happy little kid again.

By the end of the week, saying goodbye felt heavy. I left Hong Kong with more than just pictures and souvenirs; a softer version of our relationship — one that didn’t feel distant anymore.

Sometimes, healing doesn’t come through big conversations or dramatic moments. Sometimes, it happens quietly — in shared routines, in laughter, in simply choosing to spend time together.