I Don't Recognize Myself Anymore

If you asked me a year ago what I wanted to do with my life, I would’ve given you an answer that feels unfamiliar now. If you asked who I am, I still couldn't tell you. These versions of me aren't wrong, just different. What’s strange is that I can’t even remember what that year-old version of me was thinking. I only know she existed.

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Forget a year. Even six months ago, I was someone else.

I don’t remember the exact fears I carried or the plans I clung to. I can’t replay the reasoning behind decisions that once felt urgent and necessary. All I know is that I move through the world now differently. I’m slower, more aware, more raw.

And if someone were to tell me to pinpoint when or how this happened, I couldn’t. There’s no before-and-after moment, no clear turning point. It feels more like waking up one day and realizing my shoes don’t fit. I can’t explain when my feet grew, but walking never felt this different.

And even though walking feels easier, it isn’t graceful. I still trip. I still misjudge things. I still convince myself I’ve ruined everything after one wrong step. I’m not always calm or composed, but I’m more aware. 

Of my reactions. 

Of my spirals. 

I overthink because I care. 

I panic because I feel deeply.

I do damage control because part of me thinks it's constantly drowning.

Some days, I confuse discomfort with failure.

I can’t remember who I was back then because I was still growing into these shoes. I stretched them to fit me, but they didn't stay like that for long. All I know is that walking like this, where I’m imperfect, but honest, unsteady but present, feels more like me.

And sometimes, I have to walk barefoot. I feel every stone and uneven step because I know I can’t always protect myself in this process of growth. Some of it asks me to be exposed. To trust the ground beneath me anyway.

I am not perfect. Not even close. In fact, I’m the furthest away from it. But I know I’m more authentic when I care deeply, feel deeply, and can’t describe myself to people in words, only in actions.

I am 22 and unsure. I look in the mirror and still don't know if that's me who stares back. I no longer recognize myself.

I am afraid.

I am excited.

I am overwhelmed.

But I am who I am, and I'm learning to accept it. I'm learning to work with it.

not everything clean is meant to stay that way.

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