little by little, you carry away what no longer belongs to you—sand, silt, dirt – and then somewhere far downstream, you look around and realize you’ve become something undeniable. Not through a single plunge or a sudden flood, but through a long, patient insistence on being exactly what you are.
We all believe that we have all this time left, that the future seems worlds away. But in the blink of an eye, time has passed by, and I am now in my 3rd year of university. the future that seemed so distant and far away now breathes down my neck, reminding me of its urgency – and I’ve never felt so sure yet so completely and utterly lost at the same time.
Caught between my aspirations and fears, there are days where I feel suffocated. Wrestling with being present and intentional whilst feeling like I’m aimlessly floating in an endless void that leads nowhere. Caught between having the desire to achieve anything and everything I want but not feeling good enough to do so.
And let’s not even tap into my own self-image. Because most days, I don’t even understand myself. Currently trying to become my own person while battling the voices from my past, the judgment of others, and the discourse happening in the present. Most days, my body feels like some kind of foreign entity; at times, we coexist peacefully, and at other times, it’s a constant war.
Without a doubt I can proudly say I’ve come so far in the last few years, but yet I feel nowhere near where I want to be. The human experience is truly so unique and vast, I don’t think any number of words could ever really express what it’s like. But then again, that’s what this article is for me, an attempt at vocalizing and formally expressing those emotions that have flooded me in recent days.
There is this quote by Van Gogh I really like, which says:
“Life is a terrible reality and we ourselves are running straight into infinity”
This life we get to live is ever-changing, beautiful, and tragic; it is impossible to wrap our heads around it all, to understand it all, to find an answer for it all. However, we live in a constant state of exploration, as every day we wake up and choose to pursue new answers, perspectives, and narratives. With each day, I, we, grow wiser and hungrier to find the answers we crave, and it is all in the attempt to build ourselves.
But the making of ourselves is never an easy task, especially when we’re all brought up so differently. We’re all raised and taught different perspectives and outlooks on life. We all come with a set of beliefs, philosophies, and approaches to life that are given to us by our respective parental figures or just simply the environment we are surrounded by.
However, for all of us, there comes a point in our lives when we wake up and realize that we, too, want to shape our own perspectives. We, too, want to analyse and process the world in a way that is ours to claim. It is no simple feat, but it is a process that all of us undergo one way or another; no matter the cause, we all set sail on the path towards becoming ourselves.
Unfortunately, a tough realisation to this is that becoming your own person can be one of the most painful processes we go through in our lifetime. Why? – because the journey has no beginning or end. But I think for most of us, for me defiantly, it awakens when freshly entering into adulthood. Ever since I hit my 20s, 21 now, I can feel it creeping behind me and breathing down my neck (dramatic I know), manifesting itself as questions, arguments, and disagreements. It’s a deadly whisper, a quiet thief that shows up at our doorstep one day and robs us of all certainty.
adulthood has always been painted as a kind of destination. as kids, we imagined that one day, without warning, the world would hand us a badge that says “grown-up.” we thought it would come with certainty, competence, and an unshakable sense of self. but then it happens, you turn 20 and realize the badge never arrives.
It is an uncomfortable and weird process to get up one day and have it all hit you that everything you once deemed certain and indisputable is now fleeting and uncertain. It shakes you at your core, unsettles your soul, to go from feeling like you know yourself to looking in the mirror and seeing a stranger staring back at you. Everything you’ve built crumbles before you, and you cannot stop it; you can only hope that it can be rebuilt.
But how do you build something you’ve never seen before? How do you fix something you never even knew needed fixing?
Having your dreams, morals, and belief systems confronted can be disconcerting. Accepting that we no longer see things the same way; no longer want the same things we used to is incredibly confusing. Especially when you’re entering the realm of adulthood and everyone is scrutinizing your every move, expecting you to have it all sorted out.
Which is why some of us enter this state of negation, in which we repeatedly tell ourselves that this is simply “a small crisis.” This is where denial kicks in.
We resort to our old ways, hoping that with the remaining pieces we can rebuild ourselves again. We cling to our previous beliefs, in search for an answer, in search for some hope. Trying to convince ourselves this is a mere bump in the road, a small detour that’ll take us right back to where we used to be. However, as we try to rebuild, our building crumbles because our foundations are no longer there.
Our old foundations no longer support us because they no longer represent us; they no longer align with our souls. But alas, we attempt it, not because we trust in the old foundations but because they are familiar and of course, being the beings, we are – familiarity feels safe, as opposed to launching ourselves into the unknown. Though deep down, we know and we acknowledge that this is no longer who we are, yet we hesitate to move forward, we hesitate to ask questions, because there is nothing more terrifying than going in a direction we’ve never been.
Right here, in the known, in the familiar, this feels comfortable, this feels safe. But it is a fallacy, a facade; it is not who we are, but merely a blueprint that was crafted for us before we even had the capacity to consent. That familiarity is simply artificial, a bunch of make-believe fabricated to convince you that you are the person they taught you to be. And for a long time, it works; you grow up thinking this is who you really are, certain that your thoughts belong to you and that your beliefs are truly rooted within you.
We’re conditioned not to question or doubt them because how can they be wrong? How could something you’ve always known be wrong? How can something we’ve been taught since the day we were born be wrong?
It can, and one day, at a time when you least expect it, it all crumbles. The world that was once predigested for you now sits at the pit of your stomach, whole and heavy. Now it is you who has to consume the world and digest it on your own. This process can be uncomfortable, and we might sometimes choose things that unsettle us, but that is just a part of it. As we leave our past circles and enter new environments, we learn and unlearn, and we’re presented with new perspectives, ideas, and beliefs that challenge our current systems.
As you begin rebuilding, you’re met with a million questions. Flooded with a trillion possible answers, and trying not to drown underneath them. And with everything you’ve ever known collapsing before you, life begins to feel infinite. The world that was once so simple becomes intricate and complex. Nothing is simple anymore; reality is tragic, feelings become profound and immeasurable, and you are but the shell of the person you once were.
Despite all this, you pick up the pieces, dissecting them one by one. You begin to learn to ask hard questions, to take the good and leave the bad. To tread carefully when making difficult decisions. You begin to experience the world through your own unadulterated lens. You start shaping your own views and become the author of your own opinions.
Truth be told, half of the time you will be unsure, most days the world and its persuasiveness might get to you. You will have to wrestle through it all, be open to other points of view without compromising your own and let others confront your opinions without yielding all control. Your dreams will be scrutinized, how you dress will be scrutinized, the movies you watch, the books you read, and the music you listen to. It will all be dissected and labelled, but through it all, you must not let it determine who you are.
Identity is just the sum of the choices we make. We live in a world of infinite paths and endless possibilities. We can be anything, but choosing one thing means grieving the thousands we didn’t.
When everything is possible, nothing feels certain. I’ve always wondered if I was on the “right” path, if some alternate version of me— the one who chose differently—might be living a better life.
Choice, in theory, is freedom. But in practice, it can feel like a quiet paralysis. The world keeps spinning forward, while you’re still stuck. But maybe the point isn’t to choose the perfect life. Maybe the magic lies in choosing a life—your life, and walking it fully. Because when you do, even the smallest step begins to feel sacred. Not because it was the best possible choice, but because it was yours.
Please don’t allow yourself or the world to condemn you for not knowing it all yet, for not having a concise answer to every question, for not having achieved your dreams yet. Remind yourself that you have set on a path of learning and discovery, a process many will delay for the sake of comfort and security.
Oftentimes, the people with the most things to say are the most scared of all. They hide behind a facade of confidence and wisdom, but really, they are just as terrified and insecure as you are and are desperately hiding it.
So, whenever you find yourself feeling doubtful about your decisions because of someone’s disapproval, remember that it is because you’ve probably made them confront their own uncertainties. And that is a sort of discomfort not everyone knows how to deal with.
This can lead to people leaving us, but we need to remember that this, too, is part of the process.
It can be a lonely path; growth and evolution can come with disapproval. People may not react kindly to this new person you are becoming, because the world isn’t always gentle or accepting of change. We might outgrow people, have difficult conversations with our loved ones, and we may have to leave or put distance between ourselves and them if they no longer align with who we are.
With every passing day, we might find fewer and fewer things in common between ourselves and the people we’ve always known. Conversations begin to cease, and the desire to see each other may decrease until ultimately you no longer speak. On the other hand, there may be more destructive fallouts, arguments, and discussions may arise. Be it because you differ from someone’s political views, morals, or opinions. You may find yourself exasperated as you try to dabble in the attempt to make your voice heard to others.
You may grow tired of explaining yourself as you set new boundaries for people who are used to you never having any. There will be days when you have to walk away, for the sake of yourself, and sometimes simply for the sake of salvaging whatever is left of your relationship with the other.
Despite all of this, I want to say that it’s okay, it is perfectly valid to leave spaces where you’re no longer welcome simply because you disagree with others’ perspectives. I assure you that when one door closes, another one will open, new spaces and people will welcome your questions, perspectives, and ideas.
In the same way that there will be people who challenge your newfound beliefs, there will also come people who cherish and indulge in them. People who will appreciate your outlook and help expand it at the same time. Spaces that will welcome your ideas and help them grow.
The (dis)comfort of not knowing
I would be lying if I said that I have all the answers now and everything figured out. And I will not pretend that it’s not excruciating. There are days when this ambiguity cuts me apart until I have nothing but the weight of my own breath and the haunting echo of “figure it out” constantly trailing me.
But maybe there is a subtle grace in this uncertainty. Maybe not knowing is a liberation that allows us to rebuild without obligation, to become without inherited expectations. The self is never truly lost; it just waits to be rewritten.
There’s comfort in discomfort. For every piece of you that was shed trying to fit into someone else’s shape, you’ve been gifted space — vast, open rooms within yourself where beauty can take root. This time, you get to decide which adjectives describe you.
So for me personally, and where I’m at in life right now, I feel that the most important part of this entire ordeal is acceptance. Acceptance of your incompleteness, acceptance of your inadequacies, of your doubts, and your failures. Giving ourselves some grace for not having it all figured out, for changing our minds, for not knowing what we want just yet.
Be okay with messing up, asking questions, and challenging the answers. Learn to let yourself grow in both abundance and deficiency, to allow yourself the space to recognize your errors and fix them, to ask forgiveness when needed but not have to when you’re not at fault. Embrace your humanness, your vulnerabilities and emotions, as well as your strength and resilience.
This is the journey of a lifetime, an ongoing attempt at being the truest we can be to ourselves. This may look one way in our twenties and completely different in our forties, and that too is okay. The answers I find at twenty-one may not align with the ones I find at fifty, which is okay. We can be so sure of something one second and then not agree with it years later. We may invest so much time into a specific career and, further down the line, fall out of love with it. As well as we can fall in love with something at 13 and still love it at 60 – just like how at 21 I still love certain shows and games (yes anime and Roblox) back when I was a child/young teen.
Bottom line is that it is hard to know; it is only by trying and challenging ourselves that we will be able to find out what it is that makes us feel alive. Life is so fragile and uncertain, and I am growing tired of rejecting this uncertainty, so I want to embrace it. To allow myself to grow in the areas I’m most scared of, to confront those ideas deeply rooted within me, and truly determine what they mean to me.
I want to accept myself now and stop putting a due date on this acceptance. To stop waiting for certain things in my life to align, to say that I embrace who I am. Because the truth is, there is no telling if we’ll even get there. The version of me that is perfect and has her life “put together” only exists in the fiction of my mind. But the version of me that is messy and insecure exists right now, and I want to accept her, to tell her that she’s deserving of everything just as she is now as much as she will be in the future.
So, stop waiting for the completion of your goals or to tick certain boxes to accept yourself. Accept yourself now, love yourself now, be yourself now, because life is much too fleeting and much too fragile, and whatever the future you want, it starts right here and now. In the honest attempt to accept yourself.
We spend so much of our lives chasing a polished version of ourselves — as if one day we’ll wake up with a name that fits perfectly, a purpose that clicks into place, a life that finally makes sense. But the self is never meant to be a finished sculpture. It’s more like a river — shifting, expanding, carving new paths in quiet persistence.
The harder you search for who you are, the more elusive it becomes.
The Inner Lens 