I used to think that growing up would mean having it all figured out, that I’d have answers for everything.
That at some point, a stable, confident, adult version of myself would show up someone who could make decisions without second-guessing them, always tell right from wrong, and stop feeling lost every random Tuesday of the month, or impulsive and not always thoughtful about certain things. Spoiler: that never happened.
The truth is, the further I go, the more I realize that knowing yourself isn’t something you finish. It’s a permanent work in progress. An emotional construction site with the lights on even at night.
And there’s still so much about myself I’m trying to understand.
Why I always do everything in a rush
Even when there’s no need to. Yes, I’ve always been like this, and yes, I struggle to shake the habit.
I pack my days full, I organize, I plan, I’m always thinking about the next thing. Like actually stopping would mean losing something.
But maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe you actually lose certain things precisely because you’re rushing too much.
I’m trying to figure out whether this urgency comes from ambition, from fear, or just from being used to living with the engine always running. It’s one of the things I’ve worked on the most in therapy, because sometimes it’s exhausting I’m still working on it, but it’s complicated.
How much space to give other people
I’m an independent person. Very much so.
I like handling things on my own, organizing my own life, leaving on my own if I need to. And for a long time, I thought that was enough.
But then there are moments when I wish I could learn to share more, without feeling like I’m giving up pieces of my freedom. I’m still trying to figure out where independence ends and needing other people begins. And most of all, whether the two can coexist without going to war with each other.
Thankfully, I’ve surrounded myself with people who get me, who know who I am, and who accept me even in my loneliest moments.
Whether I'm actually happy or just really busy
This is probably the hardest question.
Because sometimes being constantly busy creates the illusion of being okay. You’ve got goals, things to do, people to see, projects, endless notifications.
So you never really stop long enough to ask yourself how you’re actually doing. Right now, though, I think I can say I have a full life.
I’m trying to figure out the difference between a life that’s full and a life that actually fulfills me. They sound similar, but they’re really not the same thing at all.
How much traveling actually matters
I love to travel.
But over the past few years, I’ve often wondered whether, for me, traveling is just about discovery — or also about escape. Whether I leave because I’m curious about the world, or because sometimes I struggle to stay still in one place for too long.
Maybe it’s both. And maybe that’s not even a problem. Lately I’m finding travel in stability too, and I’m starting to actually like that discovery.
Whether I can slow down without feeling guilty
Not treating rest like something I have to earn. Not feeling unproductive if I spend an afternoon reading, walking, or just doing nothing useful. Useful to who, anyway?
Some days I genuinely manage to slow down, and I can almost feel my brain breathing. Other days, after ten minutes of downtime, I’m already mentally making a list, or thinking about how bored I am.
It’s a pretty chaotic work in progress.
What I actually want in the long run
I think about it a lot where I want to live, what kind of life I want to build, what “success” really means to me.
Because as you grow, you realize a lot of things that once seemed important matter less, while other things suddenly become essential. Peace and quiet. Time. The right people. Feeling at home somewhere.
I’m still trying to figure out what my true version of happiness actually looks like.
I think there’s something kind of beautiful about not having all the answers something I only understood by growing up. Even if it’s exhausting sometimes. Even if some days I feel as lost as when you open Google Maps in a country with no internet connection.
But maybe that’s just how knowing yourself works: not through big, sudden revelations, but through small details collected over time. Things you learn after a trip, a disappointment, a conversation, a return home.
So yes, there’s still a lot about myself I’m trying to figure out. But maybe the point isn’t to arrive at some final, finished version. Maybe the point is to keep listening to yourself while you change.
