The first time I realized I had to live for myself, not for others, wasn’t a loud or dramatic moment. It was quiet, almost uncomfortable. I was doing everything I was supposed to do—meeting expectations, making people proud, avoiding disappointment. From the outside, my life looked “right,” but inside, I felt empty. I couldn’t recognize my own voice anymore. Every decision felt like it belonged to someone else.
That realization came when I asked myself a simple but terrifying question: If no one were watching, would I still choose this life? The honest answer was no. I understood then that living for others had slowly pushed me away from who I truly was. I had been saying yes when I wanted to say no, staying silent when I wanted to speak, and shrinking myself to fit into roles that were never mine.
Choosing to live for myself didn’t mean I stopped caring about others. It meant I finally started caring about myself too. It was not easy, and it still isn’t. There is guilt, fear, and uncertainty along the way. But there is also freedom. For the first time, my life feels like it belongs to me—and that makes all the difference.