Some people shop to de-stress. Others run, paint, or binge-watch their favorite series. Me? I fix things. There is an irreplaceable thrill in taking something that has been declared dead, useless, or obsolete, and breathing new life into it. If we are being completely honest, I think I might have been born as Tinker Bell in human form. My brain is hardwired to look at a broken object not as trash, but as a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Walk into my house, and you will quickly realize that almost 99.9% of the items around you are either the results of passionate DIY projects or things that were rescued from the brink of destruction and meticulously fixed. I don’t see a broken item as a loss; I see it as a direct canvas to implement my problem-solving knowledge.

Let’s start with the DIY projects. You don’t need a massive budget to make a space feel like home; you just need a little bit of imagination and a lot of patience. Take my curtains, for example. Instead of buying expensive, mass-produced curtain ties, I took a trip down a local online marketplace rabbit hole. I found a beautiful satin ribbon for just IDR 6,500 for a whopping 5 meters.

With a little bit of creativity and some hands-on crafting, I transformed that simple ribbon into custom, elegant curtain ties. The result? Absolutely satisfying hehe. It proved to me, yet again, that aesthetic appeal doesn't have to carry a premium price tag.

But where my inner Tinker Bell truly shines is in the moment of tech restoration. Over the years, I’ve managed a small fleet of three smartphones. The first is an old Asus A007, which, admittedly, has finally given up the ghost and no longer works hehe. But the others? They have stories to tell.

Back in 2020, I bought a Wiko Y61. It served faithfully for years, but recently, its battery completely gave out. Externally, the phone still looked pristine, but internally, it was flatlining. Now, the average consumer in today’s throwaway culture would immediately toss it into the dustbin and head to the nearest store for an upgrade. But not me.

Instead of contributing to the world’s growing e-waste problem, I jumped online and sourced a replacement battery for just IDR 89,000. I opened up the phone, swapped the battery, and boom—it worked perfectly again!

I didn’t keep the resurrected Wiko for myself. Instead, I gave it to my mother.

Now, you might ask: Why didn't I give it to my father? Well, honestly speaking, my father absolutely dislikes smartphones! Hehe. For him, a tiny smartphone screen is just an annoyance. Whenever he comes home exhausted from working in the fields, his ultimate sanctuary isn't a 6-inch phone display—it’s the television. He is an old-school news enthusiast who loves sitting back and watching the latest current events on a massive TV screen. To him, watching the news on a big screen is a proper, satisfying reward after a hard day's work, something a small smartphone could never replicate.

So, the Wiko naturally went to my mother. Now, when she comes home from the field, she has a reliable device to call her granddaughter or unwind with her favorite traditional music.

There is a beautiful, almost unbelievable piece of history attached to my mother: when she was young, she was a sinden (a traditional Javanese singer) for wayang (shadow puppet) performances. She told me that she once shared the same stage with the legendary, late Ki Dalang Manteb—the iconic puppeteer who became a famous brand ambassador for a major Indonesian product. Unbelievable! ☠️

Because of her rich background, traditional music is her absolute favorite. Meanwhile, as a Gen Z dealing with Baby Boomer parents, my playlist is packed with modern music. It’s a hilarious generational contrast—Father with his big-screen news, Mother with her nostalgic Javanese tunes, and me with my modern beats. But seeing her enjoy her heritage on a phone I revived makes every bit of effort worth it.

As for my current daily driver, I use a ZTE Blade A72 that I bought back in 2024. It has been almost two years now, but thank God, the phone is still functioning flawlessly. The secret? Software optimization. While others let their phones clog up with cache, background apps, and junk files, I constantly tune mine so the software works maximally. You don't always need new hardware; sometimes, you just need to take care of the system you already have.

Thank God, this knack for repairing things hasn't just saved my own wallet; it has turned me into the go-to tech consultant for my cousins and friends.

When their phone screens crack, they don't panic and shell out millions for a brand-new device. They come to me. I help them source high-quality LCD screens online via local marketplaces at a fraction of the retail cost. Once the screen arrives, we take it to a trusted phone repair service just for the technical plug-in. To top it off, I buy them tempered glass and personally install it onto their phones with precision.

So, When you calculate the cost of buying a brand-new smartphone versus simply replacing the LCD and protecting it with tempered glass, the savings are staggering. It’s a 1:10 ratio. They spend 10% of what a new phone would cost, keeping the other 90% in their pockets!

After reading this and If you ask me why I love repairing so much, the answer is simple: I live for life hacks. 🤭

Nothing compares to the rush of dopamine I get when I successfully fix or create something with my own two hands. I love utilizing materials that are highly affordable but exceptional in quality. I achieve this by conducting extensive, patient research before purchasing a single part.

When a repair succeeds, it feels like an absolute victory. It feels like I’ve successfully beaten the capitalist system that constantly screams at us to consume, discard, and rebuy.

Because of this mindset, it genuinely infuriates me when I see people casually throwing away items that have only a minor scratch or an easily fixable defect. In their eyes, it's garbage. In my hands, it’s a treasure waiting to be restored. 🥺

There is a profoundly beautiful feeling when you can take a broken piece of property—something that is looked down upon or even thrown away by others—and rewrite its destiny, restoring it to full functionality. 😍

From this entire hobby and habit, there is a very deep moral message that we can take and apply to our daily lives:

If broken things still hold value and function when we are willing to give them time, attention, and patience to fix them—then so do human beings.

In this modern world, we are often too quick to discard something deemed "broken" or "imperfect," whether it's an electronic gadget, a human relationship, or even ourselves when we hit rock bottom. We live in a disposable culture where the moment a minor glitch appears, we choose to look for something brand new instead of fixing what is old. Just like my father who stays loyal to the simplicity of his big-screen TV, or my mother who preserves the beauty of her traditional music, we are reminded to value what has essential worth in our lives without always being swayed by the next new trend.

The art of repair teaches us a beautiful lesson about hope and second chances:

1. Value the Process and Patience

Fixing something requires research, precision, and time. The same applies when facing life's hardships or a fractured relationship. Don't give up immediately just because things aren't running smoothly.

2. Resisting the Consumerism of the Soul

Do not let your self-worth or the value of your possessions be dictated by trends that force us to constantly consume new things. True beauty is born from how we care for and sustain what we already have.

3. Seeing Potential Beneath the Surface

Something that is underestimated or looked down upon by others can become incredibly valuable in the right hands. When you feel "broken" or exhausted, remember that you are not meant to be thrown away. You just need a moment to rest, optimize the "software" inside your mind, and rise again as a stronger version of yourself.

So, before we decide to throw something away—be it an old phone, a delayed dream, or a relationship with people close to us—ask yourself: Is this truly the end, or is it just waiting for the touch of the "Tinker Bell" inside you to make it whole again? 🌟