Looking In The Mirror
In the quiet moments of life—those times when we’re alone with our thoughts—I’ve found the loudest truths. Recently, I’ve been on a journey to understand the flaws in my thinking, both professionally and personally. It’s a winding path filled with bumps and unexpected turns, and I am memorializing my thoughts here, if for no other reason than to remind myself where I was in my journey on this day.
For years, I thought I had my life mapped out. I convinced myself that if I worked hard and followed a certain formula, success would inevitably follow. I chased financial success and external validation, believing they would fill a void I couldn’t quite articulate. Yet, the more I pursued these markers of success, the more I felt like I was running in circles. It took time for me to realize that my relentless pursuit of validation often stemmed from a deep-seated fear of inadequacy.
Looking back, I see how this fear shaped my decision-making. I said yes to projects that drained me, thinking they would lead to recognition. I avoided difficult conversations, fearing conflict would shatter the delicate balance I had created. In my personal life, I struggled to connect deeply with friends and family, often prioritizing superficial interactions over meaningful relationships. This struggle extended to my marriage, where I found it challenging to live authentically. I often felt torn between my desire to be genuine and the fear that revealing my true self might create distance or disappointment. I didn’t want to appear vulnerable, thinking that showing my true self might risk rejection.
As I began to unravel these threads, I noticed patterns emerging—habits and thought processes that had become problematic. There was a time when I believed that being busy equated to being valuable. I wore my busyness like a badge of honor, but it was exhausting. I realized that I was avoiding moments of stillness, where the uncomfortable truths often resided. In those quiet moments, I faced the fact that my worth isn’t tied to my productivity.
Through this introspection, I discovered that I had developed skills that, while generated some utility for others, felt disconnected from any true purpose. I often questioned whether they truly aligned with my passions. I found myself contributing to projects that made a difference but still felt a nagging sense of something missing—a deeper calling that I had yet to uncover. This tension became a source of frustration, urging me to explore what truly ignited my spirit.
As I continue to reflect on my journey, I’ve come to realize that growth often happens in unexpected ways. I’ve learned to lean into uncertainty and allow myself to explore new interests and ideas, even if they feel uncomfortable at first. Each small step I take toward authenticity, whether in my work or personal life, brings me closer to understanding what truly fulfills me. I’m beginning to see that this process of exploration is just as valuable as any destination I might reach.
In sharing this, my hope is simply to offer a glimpse into my journey, not as a roadmap, but as a testament to the complexity of our inner worlds. We all carry our own struggles, and perhaps in our stories, we can find a bit of solace and understanding. If nothing else, I’m grateful for the opportunity to grow and learn—one unthreaded thought at a time.