back to my musings again

now that i don't write for a living, i suddenly find that i want to write again. and this time, i'll be writing for me. nobody else. 

but the thing is, where do i even begin? 

-- 

so much has changed. fortunately, in a good way. i've lost myself while trying to make others happy. i became this anxious, insecure, constantly seeking for external validation version of me. it took me almost a decade and a pandemic to realise that. 

"if i don't feel anxious, i must not be doing it right," i thought. 

"i must not burden others. let me just bottle up. instead, let's make my work/career my core identity," i thought. 

"love is the willingness to sacrifice absolutely everything for that other person, including my self-worth and self-respect," i thought. 

"okay. if i don't do it, nobody else would, so i'll just do it. lay it all on me," i thought. 

yeah, i used to be like that - your textbook people-pleaser. i'm still a bit like that, i think. unpacking the shit that i've accumulated over the years is an excruciating process. because most of the time, all i could think about was: "fuck, was i really like that? why did i let myself become like that? i'm so fucking stupid." 

but then i started to see why i was like that. and that feeling of self loath slowly dissipates. 

i will get better. for me.