Tag Archives: Self-Care

How Far I’ve Come

Sometimes I forget how good I have it
How blessed I am to be doing what I love
How blessed I am to have freedom of expression
It wasn’t always this way
I didn’t always have it so good

My fears held me back
My self-doubt told me I couldn’t do it
My anxiety convinced me not to try
Ambition? I had none of it
Drive? I was on empty
Motivation? Better to stay quietly in my lane

Stick to the shadows
Hide in the background
Don’t draw attention to yourself
For it will only amplify your lack
It will only show others how weak you are
It will only confirm the fragility of your ego

I believed the lies for so long
Convinced that I wouldn’t get better
Convinced that I wouldn’t amount to much
The life that I was brought into was as good as it would get
Whatever cards I was dealt was how things would play out
Whatever limitations I had would forever remain

I wasted so much time stuck in park
Wasted so much time admitting defeat
Worn down by my circumstance without a chance to compete
Conceded the fight before the opening bell
Accepted the result without giving them hell

It took years to undo the damage that was done
It took session after session to recondition myself
To erase the brainwashing, the sheltering, the pain
To build me up and make me whole again

It had been so long since I had felt complete
There was a hole in my heart where my psyche used to be
I had lost my sense of self
Didn’t know who I was
I had let others mold me into what they thought I should be

That wasn’t who I am
Wasn’t what I’m meant to be
Wasn’t what God had intended when He had created me
I must remind myself of how far I’ve come
Remind myself that I have purpose
One that others might not understand
Remind myself of what I stand for and who I am
Remind myself that I can’t be defined by another man

It’s Not That Simple

“Are you a good person?” I’m sure everyone’s been asked that a number of times. If you asked a younger version of me, my answer would be fairly straightforward. I’d unequivocally say yes, and that would be the end of the discussion. If you asked me now, I would tell you, “it’s not that simple.” It’s not a yes or no question—it’s much more nuanced than that. The older I get, the more I realize that there aren’t really any absolutes in life. Not that many things are actually black and white. Most things require a much more discerning eye than simply sorting things into this or that. Everything requires a delicate balance, and life is akin to walking a tightrope. It’s more of a sliding scale than multiple choice. I know that now, but I didn’t always.

I grew up in a triple C home—Conservative, Christian, and Chinese. One of these things has changed entirely, one of them looks different than it did back then, and one of these things can’t be changed no matter how hard I try. I’m sure you can probably figure out which is which. Regardless, this resulted in me being raised in a way that sheltered me from the outside world. I was led to believe that all things could be looked at through a black and white lens. It was good versus evil. Either people were for you or they were against you. You were either righteous or a sinner. It was implied that there was no in between. And for the longest time I believed that. I didn’t know any better.

It wasn’t until college that I started to understand how the world really worked—which is to say that it doesnt work the way that I thought it did, not even close. Coming out from under my parents’ protective umbrella worked wonders for opening my eyes. My whole life up til then had been oversimplified. I learned (perhaps the hard way) that there is in fact an in between! You’re generally given more than two options in life. Shades of gray exist everywhere despite what I was told. That’s what makes a lot of these hot button political issues so difficult to parse. Take illegal immigration for example, it’s nothing so simple as, “for it or against it.” There’s also a, “yes, but…” and a, “no, but…” amongst other answers. The question itself is far too complex for you to reply with a simple one. There’s more context needed. And you need to ask questions such as is legal immigration easier or harder for certain countries? Can prospective immigrants afford to acquire all the legal documents? Is legally migrating even feasible for certain individuals? Like I said, life is nuanced. But let’s not drift too far into that tangent, let me rein it back in here.

Something I pride myself on nowadays is my adaptability. Yes, I’m stubborn in certain ways, and I work better with a schedule and a plan. But I’m not rigid, not like how I used to be. My worldview and ethos change as I learn new things and gather more information. My perspective is constantly evolving, because that’s how you grow and improve. The one thing it can’t be is static, because that often leads to close-mindedness.   I’ve been through that before, and it’s not a great place to be to say the least. As I’ve said, the main goal is always to be a better person today than you were yesterday—in order to do that, you need to be flexible in thought and in action. Everything else is secondary. Yes, you want to be kind to those around you. Yes, you want to make an impact or a difference. Yes, you want to progress in your career or in your love life or what have you. But at the end of the day, none of this is possible if you haven’t worked on yourself first. If you’re not seeking to be a better version of yourself each and every day what are you doing it for? What “better” entails depends on the person and the day. I guarantee you that it won’t always be the same thing. And it won’t be easy.

But like I always say, everything is a learning experience. You take the good and the bad and you get better from it. It doesn’t matter if you succeed or if you fail, as long as you’ve learned something. You don’t want to be making the same mistakes over and over. You don’t want life to attempt to teach you the same lessons. Life is finite, so you want to make good use of your time. You learn and you grow and you move on. And your perspective continues to evolve. If you can do that then you’re on a path of continual progress, you keep moving onwards and upwards. I’d be remiss not to mention that there is no end to the journey of enlightenment—there will always be more to learn. But that’s not the point. You’re not doing it for a perfect ending. All you’re focused on is improving incrementally. It could be 1% a day or 10% a day, the number itself doesn’t matter, as long as you’re striving for better, and putting in some level of effort.

It took me quite a while to fully understand this, but everything that I’ve been through has brought me to this point. So although I regret wasting my time for so long, I don’t regret any of my past experiences. Especially not the adversity I went through, which helped shape me. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without having gone through all of that. And I wouldn’t want it any other way. Everything happened for very specific reasons. Not all of which are clear to me just yet, but will be with time. 

One thing that has become clear to me is that even though I have since distanced myself from the way my parents raised me, I still believe that they were well-intentioned in their approach. They did what they thought was right, so I can’t fault them for that. However, things didn’t really work out the way that they intended. There were many unintended byproducts of their parenting philosophy, some of which were beneficial and some of which were harmful. But you live and you learn. There was no way for them to know how things would turn out without trying it first. This ended up being more of a lesson for me than it was for them. 

The way my parents raised me has taught me certain facts of life that I want to pass on when I have kids of my own, but it has also taught me certain tactics that I want to stay far away from. They taught me how to be polite and generous. How to be respectful and compassionate. How to be smart and resourceful. But in certain ways they didn’t push me hard enough. They didn’t stress to me the importance of putting in effort or being a driven individual. They didn’t necessarily support me enough in my passions early on, which didn’t give me the confidence and mental fortitude to survive out there in the world. They didn’t provide me with the tools that I needed to set realistic expectations. And they didn’t give me the individual care that I needed. But I’m not going to lay all the blame on them for the way things turned out, because it’s not their fault. It takes nature and nurture and sheer dumb luck to mold our childhood selves into who we become when we get older. 

In this day and age it feels like we’re too often looking for cause and effect. Too often looking for people or things to blame for our luck or misfortune. But that’s just it… Luck and fortune/misfortune are dictated by fate (and/or God, depending on what you believe). Life is random, and sometimes shit just happens. Not everything needs an explanation, and not everything can be so easily summed up. Not everything has a party at fault. Sometimes both parties are at fault, sometimes neither is. And more often than not it lies somewhere in between. 

In many ways that scares us, but it shouldn’t. Life is nuanced and complicated. And answers are only simple at a quick glance. If you drill down deeper you will see that everything is quite complex. Such is life. If you’re looking for a simple or easy life you’re going to be sorely disappointed. Such a thing does not exist if you’re on the path to enlightenment. Such a thing does not exist if you’re continually seeking knowledge. Such a thing does not exist if you’re trying to move onwards and upwards. If you want to be better today than you were yesterday, then you better believe that the going will be challenging. But challenges keep you motivated. Are you up for the challenge?

Great Expectations

I don’t do New Year’s resolutions. I never really have (aside from a handful of times). Truth be told “resolution” is a word that I’m not too fond of to begin with. It’s too definite and suffocating. It’s a results-driven word that sets up a pass/fail scenario. Did I see my resolutions through to the end? If yes, then I succeeded. If no, then I didn’t. For some, it’s not a huge deal. They might say, “oh well, I’ll try again next year.” Or use some other justification. But for someone who overthinks as much as I do, and used to struggle with self-confidence the way I did it could instead be quite damning. The prospect of failure was too much for me to bear.

Before I started seeing a therapist, I had a tendency to spiral. I’d replay scenarios in my head, wallow in self-pity, and I took failure personally. Every time something didn’t go as planned or ended in a negative result my confidence meter took a hit. As I’ve said before, I was not well-equipped to handle adversity, had no self-awareness, didn’t have an ounce of mental fortitude. When times got tough I withered. When the pressure was on I came up small. When misfortune hit everything cratered. So for me, a failed resolution became another reason for why I didn’t deserve to live. I took it as proof that I was worthless, and would always amount to nothing. 

So why bother making them if I was certain they would fail? Why risk it when disappointment was likely inevitable? Not a healthy train of thought in the slightest, but I was not a healthy person. As you know, in the past few years I’ve found my healing. I’ve changed and I’ve grown. I’m not the same scared kid that I used to be. I’m not the same person that used to break easily. I’m not the same guy that looked for excuses not to try. But as much as I’ve changed, a few things still remain. I don’t do New Year’s resolutions, and I probably never will. Perhaps deep down I’m still worried about the pain that failure might cause? Perhaps not. 

Either way, the tradition is results-driven, and as you’ve probably noticed by now I am much more process-driven. I hold myself to a certain standard and I’ll settle for nothing less. I’ve lucked into positive results in the past, but was never able to sustain the success, because I hadn’t set myself up for the future. In order to get repeated good results, you need to firm up your process. It’s hard to do that if you’re not meeting the standard. If I’m being honest, that type of outcome—success without meeting the standard—is futile to me. If the changes I make aren’t permanent, then it’s wasted effort. Everything I do henceforth would be done in hopes that I would hit the mark without knowing how I actually did it the first time. Which is only wasting time. Think of it like an experiment. You write out the steps you need to take in order to get the results that you want. If there’s a mistake in your process, you tinker then try again. And again and again and again. That’s how you learn and grow and improve. By finding out what works and what doesn’t work, and changing your process accordingly.

This is exactly what I lacked when I was in high school—the ability to adapt. I didn’t have a process whatsoever, let alone a sound one. But I still expected success to come of it. I still expected things to work out in my favor, meanwhile ignoring the fact that I had done nothing to ensure such results. You can’t get good grades unless you study the material. You can’t get a girlfriend unless you develop some sort of connection first. You can’t find success unless you put in the work. Sounds obvious, but it wasn’t to me. For whatever reason, I had thought I was a special case. I thought I could get positive results without putting in much effort. In truth, I think at times I was just too smart for my own good. Elementary school came easy to me, so I continued to expect more of the same. I should’ve known that eventually it would catch up to me. But I remained blissfully ignorant and unaware until it was too late.

By that point, I was in college, and in way over my head. Throughout Junior High and High School I had put in the minimum level of effort required to come away with mostly B’s, some A’s, and a handful of C’s. Which was acceptable to me, but beneath my level of care. I kept asking myself, “why put in all that effort if I can do less and still come away with adequate results?” I thought I was being smart, but little did I know that this was always going to come back to bite me. I approached my college courses with the same level of inattention, and I suffered the consequences for it—coming away with the first and last D I ever received. Which nearly ruined my college career right when I had just begun. But I put my head down and got serious, because what else could I do? I needed to right the ship immediately.

After some steady effort for the next three and a half years, I was able to bring my GPA back up to something respectable. But what could’ve been? How different would my life have turned out if I’d actually tried? What if I hadn’t talked myself into accepting a life of mediocrity? What if I had worked diligently the whole time, rather than only for the last handful of years? What if I had been as determined then as I am now? Unfortunately, these are not questions that we will ever get the answers to. Who I was then is not who I am now. I wasn’t someone capable of pushing through adversity. I was weak-willed, a quitter—someone who always took the easy way out. Someone who was used to running away or hiding. Someone who was pampered and sheltered. Someone who never took responsibility or held himself accountable. I thought that all mistakes could be covered up, and that I could lie and weasel my way out of the consequences. I lacked the self-awareness necessary to realize that I wasn’t fooling anyone.

And yet, I somehow lucked my way into mild success. Again, nothing sustainable because I didn’t have a sound process, but it was better than what I’d experienced up til then. For the first time in twenty-four years I was content. But the contentedness was fleeting. As I gained more responsibility at my job, the work became less fulfilling. And the little confidence I had gained whittled away again, and I was left with even less than I’d started with. Little did I know, but I wasn’t meant for the corporate world. I had only entered into it because, like always, I had taken the easy way out. When I left high school I didn’t have a plan—I hadn’t spent much time thinking about my future. Which is fine for someone of that age. It’s perfectly acceptable to start college with “undecided” for a major. But the thought had never crossed my mind. Instead, I pursued one of the career paths that I thought would be acceptable to my parents. I didn’t have the grades or the patience for a STEM major, so I studied Business instead.

But that was never my interest or who I was. It wasn’t what I was meant to do. I wasn’t a marketing analyst like I had thought. I wasn’t a salesman like my employer had told me. I wasn’t even a customer service representative even though I was good at it. I’m a writer and a storyteller. A creative and an artist. I was meant to craft sentences and build worlds. I was meant to wordplay. That is what I am and that is who I will be. I’ve learned a lot since I dedicated myself to this blog in 2020. It’s been a long journey with many twists and turns. Up until last year I was learning on the job, getting better incrementally but not getting good enough or progressing fast enough. That much changed when I found a writing community. I started to receive the feedback that I needed to hear in order for me to level up my ability. The year 2023 was a blessing, and I’m looking forward to seeing what 2024 can do for me.

So as the calendar crosses over, what am I hoping to accomplish? What am I expecting from the new year? As I said, I don’t do New Year’s resolutions. But I will set expectations. I expect to continue to improve as a writer and a storyteller each and every day. I expect to be able to write free of hindrance—no longer will I question whether or not I’m good enough. I expect my words to flow easier than they did before. I expect my story to be more coherent. I expect to continue to foster relationships with other aspiring authors. I expect to continue to learn from both the good and bad in life. I expect to become a better person this year than I was last year. But most of all, I expect abundance, growth, and blessings. Something good will come of your life if you only continue to work.

The Best Things in Life

So, it’s been some time since my last blog post. I apologize for that. I was working on something that I wasn’t thrilled about, which I ended up scrapping (I probably took too long to make that decision though). So we ended up with a break in the action. That wasn’t intentional. After that, I ended up hitting a bit of a rough patch, but I’m good now. Up until that though, I was still working hard and writing every day. Those few weeks were still really productive. But my time and focus was used differently. 

I’ve talked before about the ebbs and flows of the writing process. And it becomes steadily clearer to me each week. As I’ve mentioned before, I spend my time on four different types of writing: critiques, blogging, fiction, and poetry. In my head, each thing is weighted differently in terms of priority, but it doesn’t always work out the way I intend. The amount of time and focus I spend on each thing differs day by day and week by week. The interesting thing about it though is that you can be doing really well with one aspect of writing, while struggling with another. Or it could all be going well or all be going poorly. For a while it seemed like my fiction writing and my blogging kept switching places. It was almost like I could write a good chapter or write a blog post that I was happy with, but I couldn’t do both concurrently. 

It’s possible that I’m just spreading myself too thin, but I’d like to believe that it’s not the case. There are many other writers out there that work on multiple projects at once, some published authors, some not. If people that are much busier than I am can do it, then why can’t I? Truth be told, I’m still relatively new to this, so I think I just haven’t found what works best for me yet. I’m still tinkering around and trying to streamline my process. Unfortunately, as I’ve said before, things haven’t worked out quite the way that I anticipated. You can chalk most of that up to inexperience and setting incorrect expectations. But another part of it was also all that time that I had spent writing in isolation, which unbeknownst to me really hindered my growth.

When I first started writing in earnest in 2020, it started out as just trial and error. Testing out the waters to see if I could do it. I had naively assumed that God-given talent would be enough. If I could form a well-written sentence then I could write a blog post. If I could write a blog post then I could write a chapter. If I could write a chapter then I could write a novel. Technically, all that is true, but it’s not that simple. It takes more than that, which I learned the hard way in 2022. If you really think about it though, why should that come as a surprise? If we believe that the best things in life require maximum effort and dedication, then naturally if we want to excel at anything then we need to learn as much as we can about that topic. That requires you to work on your weaknesses not just your strengths. To also focus on the areas that don’t interest you at all or interest you less. To spend time on the tedious as well as the entertaining. But most importantly, you need to step out of your comfort zone. You need to ask yourself tough questions. You need to try new things. To change up your approach if necessary. 

For two and a half years, I did none of that. I cruised along thinking that I was ready for this, when in fact I was nowhere near. But pressure and expectations were low, which gave me the freedom to focus on writing consistently. Which at the very least was a good first step. For half a decade or more before that I blogged on and off, binge writing at times, but going through long periods of inactivity in between. At least now I was writing regularly in my free time either after work or on the weekends, which was good. But I was trying to crank through as many posts and chapters as I could. I valued speed over quality, which is somewhat ironic considering the length of time spent on some of those posts. I hadn’t yet learned what it meant to, “kill your darlings.” Thus I edited lightly without a keen enough eye. I grew attached to sentences and paragraphs, which led me on tangents that caused my writing style to read like stream of consciousness at times. Resulting in posts that were far too long and likely quite boring to read. 

I’ve always had a knack for wordplay and sentence structure, so I’d like to think that I started out with a higher base level of talent. Whether or not that’s actually true isn’t all that important though. Just because I had that in my back pocket didn’t mean that I was a good writer, let alone a great one. All it meant was that I could craft a sentence—nothing more, nothing less. In the first three years I was learning how to write, and writing more consistently, but I wasn’t improving enough as a writer or as a storyteller. I was nowhere near the level I needed to be at, and I wasn’t progressing towards that, which I completely failed to realize. That’s because I hadn’t yet stepped out of my comfort zone or started taking enough risks, as much as I wanted to believe otherwise.

Instead, I was already falling into bad habits, walking into traps, and blundering into rookie mistakes. But what did I know? I had never written creatively before aside from an ungraded course I had taken my freshman year of college. The purpose of that class wasn’t even to learn how to write, it was geared towards bonding with other freshmen! And outside of a required writing class I had taken that same year I had never critiqued peer work. That being said, the only writing experience I really had were papers and projects I had written for various classes, and the only feedback I’d gotten were the grades and comments from teachers and professors. Not much of anything to say the least. But that didn’t stop me from developing an inflated ego. Not my finest moment.

What I needed was a kick in the pants. Something to knock me off my high horse. I wasn’t some fancy big-shot writer. I was an amateur, same as everyone else. I thought I could make it work, but I hadn’t started from the ground up, so didn’t have a firm foundation. I didn’t have the right mindset. I knew better though, didn’t I? I should’ve taken the same lessons I had learned in therapy and applied them to this new hobby. My therapist had taught me to be even-keeled, not to be too high or too low, to reset to zero when needed. She had helped me become confident in myself while remaining humble. She had shown me how to act like I knew nothing, and that there was everything left to learn. That’s where I should’ve started—with no preconceptions, without conceit. I needed to learn how to write well before I could claim to be a writer.

No wonder then that things didn’t work out as planned. No wonder then that I found myself burnt out eight months after I quit my day job. I didn’t have what it took to live the life I wanted to live. And thus, I found myself in therapy once again. And as tough as it was to uncover things about my past yet again, it did me a whole lot of good. Without it I never would’ve found a writing community, and my writing never would’ve improved. As I’ve said before, the first four to five months of posting chapters for critique were difficult. But again, what did I expect? I had never done it before, so therefore didn’t have an accurate gauge on my writing ability. I needed to be put in my place. I needed someone to tell me the honest truth: you’re not the writer that you think you are—not yet. I needed to be shown the areas that needed improvement. 

Some writers were nice about it, and gave me constructive criticism. Others were more unpleasant. Of course, the former is so much more delightful to deal with, and leaves you feeling good about yourself. You need those types of people to help you maintain your confidence. But the latter was just as necessary for me. Without hearing the harsh reality I’m not sure if I would’ve been able to get to where I needed to get to. I needed to be broken down and reminded to keep my ego in check. I needed to know how I matched up with other writers. I needed to understand that I wasn’t anywhere close to where I thought I was, but I could get there in time if I put in the effort. I had to rediscover my humility. Without it I was nothing and no one—just a pretender.

Just someone who thought he knew how to write, but didn’t really. They say, “it takes a million words before you’re able to write something of good quality.” Early on, I would’ve scoffed at that notion, but I don’t think they’re wrong. I’ve been writing almost every day since 2020, but I consider 2023 my year one. This was the year I came into my own. The year I discovered my writing style. The year I finally knew what my story was about. The year I finally understood who my characters are. The year I found out where I stack up. The year I found a mutually beneficial writing partnership (which will soon grow into a circle of three). I’ve called myself a writer before, and I’ve felt like a writer before, but now I can say with certainty that I am a writer. I can finally put my money where my mouth is, because only now am I able to write well. I’ve learned how to write, so I just need to keep on keeping on. The only way I fail is if I stop.

The Man in the Mirror

I just returned from a well-needed and well-deserved vacation. The second one I’ve taken in the last four months. I’m rested, relaxed, and refocused. So that’s it, take two. Here we go. Let’s try this again. No distractions. No lack of focus. No being thrown off my game this time. As I’ve mentioned several times recently, getting back on track hasn’t been easy as of late. We’ve gone over the self-doubt, and perceived lack of support and understanding, and the differing expectations, so we don’t really need to rehash that here. I need to do better and try harder to get on schedule, that’s really what it comes down to. No excuses. And no, “I’ll try.” I just need to do it and that’s it. 

I have to admit that this is still kinda new to me: transitioning to vacation mode and back. When I was still part of the workforce I had been conditioned to believe that I needed a very good reason for missing work. So I barely took off—something I still regret. Several well-timed vacations would’ve given me a chance to physically and mentally reset. I know that now, but you live and you learn. And you can’t change the past. If I had been in a better mental state back then my life would’ve turned out very differently. Would it have been better? Would it have been worse? Would I still have learned the lessons that I needed to learn? Who knows. 

All I know is that I’m moving forward, in the midst of a transformation. I think everyone is to some extent. Everyone came out of the pandemic changed in some way. How could we not? We live in a society where most individuals don’t spend that much time isolated and alone. It has now come and gone, and we’re still trying to figure out what life looks like afterwards. Truth be told, I didn’t really know what life was supposed to look like before that either. For most of my teenage and adult years I was suffering from depression and anxiety. I had trouble finding the meaning in life, and I didn’t know what happiness looked like. All I knew was pain and suffering, and sadness. No surprise then that my outlook on life was already tainted.

As I’ve said before, therapy saved me and brought me healing. It helped me to change my mindset. Helped me to be more grateful. More productive. More satisfied with where I was and where I was going. More in tune with myself. It showed me how to love myself and to love others. It showed me the meaning of life. And it showed me my purpose. I could go on about what it’s done for me, but we would be here all day, so I’ll end with this: the most important thing that therapy taught me was how to think critically and reflect. Neither of which was something I really did much of before. Yes, I did a lot of thinking when I was younger, but I spent a lot of that time moping and/or feeling sorry for myself, which obviously isn’t helpful or productive.

That’s not what reflection is. Reflection isn’t just thinking for the sake of it. It isn’t just stewing over things in your head or circulating thoughts. Reflection calls for action. It requires dictating the next steps, finding a path forwards. It means thinking about ways to avoid making the same mistakes. It means learning from your past to better guide your future. You know what the fun thing about reflection is though? You can always learn new things from revisiting past events. Growth isn’t always linear. Past trauma can teach you different things in different phases of your life. 

Although that became clear to me during my first cycle of therapy, it’s something that I’m reminded of continually. Naturally, I’m someone who doesn’t really let things go. Try as I may I don’t really forget past events, misplace information, or overlook minor details. It’s a bit of a blessing and a curse. I’m good with names and faces. I could probably put together a family tree based off of anecdotes. I can recall details you may have told me once in passing five years ago. But I also find it hard to forgive and forget. I find it hard to move past disagreements. I find it hard not to hold grudges. No surprise then that when I was younger I used to react in destructive ways. I was prone to lashing out or acting petty. If I didn’t do either I would bottle up my emotion until it reached harmful levels. I either became a detriment to others or a detriment to myself.

Over time and through therapy I’ve learned to explore things in more productive ways—turn my negative energy into positive energy. And that starts with reflection. If I’m going to be spending all that time thinking about the past, then I better make the most of it. Instead of stewing, I should be processing. Instead of internalizing perceived slights against me I should be thinking of how I can be better. Instead of getting caught up in the failure, I should be learning from the mistake. Once I started focusing my attention on the future rather than dwelling on the past I was able to move on with my life. Able to better direct my path moving forwards. 

There’s nothing worse than the feeling you get when you keep making the same mistakes over and over. You might feel like you’re stuck, or that you have no say in the matter. You might feel like the outcome is inevitable, but it’s not! You aren’t destined to be a failure. You aren’t destined to be a loser. You aren’t destined to keep repeating the cycle. You can alter the course of your life, but you have to learn from your mistakes. If things aren’t working out you have to try something new. You have to be willing to ask for help or guidance. You have to try your best to problem solve. And you know what that starts with? Yup, you guessed it: reflection. You take what life has given you and you think things through. You reflect before you react, and then you go from there.

It’s really pretty crazy looking back at what my life looked like before I started reflecting. It was chaotic and uncontrolled. Unpredictable in some ways but obvious in others. Of course pre-reflection Justin was also pre-therapy Justin, so we do have to take that into account. I already wasn’t sound of mind, but add poor decision making to the mix, as well as stubbornness that led to repeating the same mistakes? That’s a recipe for disaster. In essence I was going through life without a game plan. Trying to figure out how to live without any direction. My decision making was almost always rash and in the moment, not thinking about how it would affect my future. Not thinking of the repercussions, of which there were many. I lived moment to moment, thinking that I would deal with things as they came. 

Sounds good in theory, but this just wasn’t something that happened. Expectation wasn’t reality. As I’ve said before, I was more likely to run and hide from adversity than to face it head on. I wanted to deal with things as they came, but I didn’t. Part of it was because I didn’t know how, but a larger part of it was that I didn’t even try. It’s one thing to think something, but being determined to do it is something else entirely. However, neither matters if action doesn’t follow. I say this time and time again, but I’ll say it again. In order to live the life that you envision, you need to do your part. You need to push and grind. You need to put in the effort.

And yes, it all starts with reflection. Things didn’t used to go my way because I didn’t have any semblance of a plan in place. I hadn’t plotted how I would get from point A to point B. I hadn’t figured out how to stop repeating mistakes. I hadn’t drilled down to the root of my issues. I hadn’t actually made any changes to my mindset or lifestyle, even though I kept telling myself that I would. I wanted or expected certain things from life but I didn’t do what needed to be done in order to get those results. I hadn’t learned my lessons. Life is funny that way. It might feel like you’re destined to repeat past mistakes or to suffer from the same issues. But you’re really not. It only feels that way because you haven’t learned from them yet. Once you learn from them, life will throw new challenges at you and you can move on.

Unfortunately, it took me twenty-eight years to finally move on. To finally try something different after years of frustration. To finally admit that what I was doing wasn’t working. To finally realize why my life felt meaningless—because what I was doing wasn’t fulfilling. To finally decide that I wanted to live a life that was worth living. To finally be a productive member of society. And it took another year and a half to come up with a gameplan. None of this would’ve been possible without reflection. And reflection only happened cause of therapy. So when I say that therapy saved my life, I mean that in more ways than one. It helped me to redirect my life trajectory. Helped me to rediscover my purpose and meaning. Helped me to redefine what I meant to the world. 

But this starts with me. And it starts with you. It starts with processing your past to guide your future. It starts with looking in the mirror and deciding who you want to be. It starts with making the steps necessary to better your quality of life. It starts with sitting down and figuring out what’s working and what isn’t. It starts with coming up with reasons to keep on going, thinking of what gets you up in the morning. The life that you’re living might not be the life that you’re meant for. The career path that you’re on might not be the thing that you’re passionate about. But you will never know unless you reflect.