Was identity that important to me?

Growing up, I was the underestimated child.

The one who was called “dumb.”

The one people thought couldn’t do more, couldn’t think better, couldn’t be enough.

I was constantly compared to others: to the “smarter” ones.

At some point, I stopped just listening… and started reacting.

1. I wanted to prove something.
2. I wanted to be seen differently.
3. I wanted to be more.

So I pushed myself to become “extra”; not always in the healthiest way. There was a fire building inside me, but it didn’t come out as clarity. It came out as anger. As impatience. As reactions I didn’t always feel proud of.

And still, after those moments passed, I would sit with guilt. No matter what someone said to me first, if I hurt them back, it stayed with me.

I questioned myself a lot.

Why am I like this? Can I be better?

That question quietly stayed with me through every phase of my life. And slowly, without even realizing it, I started changing.

Not all at once. Not perfectly. But piece by piece.

I let go of versions of myself that no longer felt right. From being a people pleaser… to learning how to choose my own peace. And that shift, it wasn’t easy. Sometimes choosing yourself feels like losing people, losing comfort, even losing who you thought you were.

Today, I am a woman running her own business. On the outside, it sounds exciting. Strong. Independent. But the truth is a little messier.

In the last one and a half years, this journey has changed me deeply.

1. I’ve lost my spark, and found a different kind of light.
2. I’ve faced betrayal.
3. I’ve had days where I felt like giving up completely.

And many days, I still don’t know exactly where I’m going. There are moments I feel lost. And there are moments I realize, I’m still here. Maybe that’s what strength actually looks like.

Not having everything figured out. Not always being calm or perfect. But continuing anyway.

Showing up, even when it feels heavy.

Sometimes I wonder why I choose paths that feel this hard.

Why I don’t just stop.

But the truth is, I don’t really know how to quit.

And maybe a small part of me still believes, something will make sense one day.

1. I still have doubts.
2. I still question myself.
3. I still don’t have all the answers, especially about the future.

But I’ve started seeing something differently.

My emotions: the anger, the confusion, the heaviness, they are not just problems to fix.

They are signals. They are teachers.

When I stop fighting them, and just sit with them, they show me parts of myself I hadn’t understood before.

And slowly, I am learning to watch.

I am still learning, still unlearning, still becoming.

Some days I feel tired. But I am also growing in ways I couldn’t have imagined before. So maybe the journey doesn’t end in a clear destination.

Maybe it becomes more aware, a little kinder.

And maybe that’s enough for now.