I Was Wrong About Myself

For a long time, I thought I knew who I was.
Or more accurately, I thought I knew what I was meant to be.

I followed the path I believed I was supposed to walk. I checked the boxes. I showed up. I achieved.
But deep down, something felt… off.
Not broken, not dramatic. Just misaligned.

I told myself it was normal. That discomfort meant growth. That “this is just how it is.”
But the truth was simpler and scarier:
I had been underestimating myself.

Not just my potential, but my intuition.
My desires.
My right to change.
My permission to want something different.

It took stillness, burnout, and a quiet unraveling to see it clearly:
The version of me I was fighting to become… wasn’t mine to begin with.

And when I finally let that version go, I discovered something unexpected:
My own path had been quietly waiting the entire time.

It didn’t shout. It didn’t push.
It waited patiently for me to remember who I was before the world told me who to be.

Now, I’m walking differently.
Not faster.
Not louder.
But truer.