Category: thoughts

I remember being asked the question “Who am I?” during an interview. You know, one of those moments where you’re expected to say something deep and insightful, as if you’ve spent your whole life preparing for that one question. I sat there, smiling awkwardly, all while internally panicking. It wasn’t that I didn’t know who I was, of course, I knew. The real challenge was figuring out which version of “me” to talk about.

You see, I’ve come to realise that I’m a bit of a chameleon. I’m different depending on who I’m with. There’s the “me” that shows up with friends, cracking jokes and acting like life is great, even when I’m probably one minor inconvenience away from a meltdown. Then, there’s the “me” that my family sees: responsible, reliable, always ready to help, and secretly hoping they don’t ask me to do the laundries. And then there’s the “me” I am with strangers, polite, reserved, playing the role of the person who never seems to mind anything. But what really stumped me was trying to figure out which one of these “me’s” was the real me.

The funny thing is, once I realised this, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much time we spend trying to be a version of ourselves that other people expect us to be. We adapt, we mould ourselves into whatever shape fits the situation. It’s like we’re all secretly actors, performing different roles depending on who’s watching. But the truth is, the best version of us is the one that comes out when no one is. It’s the version that doesn’t care about expectations, the one that’s just for us.

But when that question came up, the version of myself I wanted to talk about wasn’t any of those. Why? Because the version of me I like the most doesn’t show up around other people. It’s the “me” that comes out when no one’s around—the me that isn’t trying to impress anyone, isn’t pretending to be anything. The me that is absolutely, unapologetically me. That version that sits there, sometimes for hours, just talking to myself. Yep, I said it. I talk to myself. A lot. I’m not even sure why I do it, sometimes I’m not even saying anything particularly profound. I’m just… there, in conversation with myself.

At first, I thought it was a bit odd, spending so much time in these one-sided conversations. But then I realised, that’s the real me. The one that isn’t trying to fit into anyone’s expectations or manage other people’s emotions. The one that doesn’t feel the need to be funny or responsible or polite. It’s just me, rambling to myself about everything and nothing.

Honestly, it’s quite therapeutic. I don’t need to worry about anyone interrupting me or rolling their eyes. I can ask myself deep questions like, “Why am I like this?” and then just laugh because I don’t have an answer. Sometimes, I’m not even doing anything productive, just sitting there, contemplating life, or wondering if I should really have that third snack of the day. I used to think it was strange, the way I could talk to myself for so long without even realising it. But now, I think it’s the most honest version of me. It’s just me, being myself, no filter, no need to act a certain way.

In that interview, I struggled to explain that this version of me, the one that exists in solitude is my favourite. It’s the most real. There’s no audience, no expectations. The me that doesn’t have to pretend. The me that’s perfectly happy sitting around, doing nothing, chatting with myself, and occasionally getting existential over a cup of tea.

If I were to answer that question now, I’d say that the version of me I love most is the one no one ever sees. The me that spends hours talking to myself, not for entertainment, but because it’s comforting. It’s the version that’s free from judgement, free from pressure, and it’s where I find the most peace.

Because at the end of the day, we all play different roles depending on who’s around. But the truest version of me? That’s the one that comes out when no one is watching. I’m alone, talking to myself, and realising that maybe, just maybe, I’m my own favourite audience.

I’ve been putting off writing a blog for my friend, Far, for far too long. It’s time to break out of this cycle of stagnation because how can I expect to grow if I don’t take action? Admittedly, completing this blog hasn’t been easy. It’s painful to confront the reality of how many hearts I’ve inadvertently hurt along the way. To all my friends whom I’ve hurt before, I’m truly sorry.

Recently, I stumbled upon a TikTok video featuring a poem for people who grapple with the fear of abandonment. It hit me hard, especially since I’ve had many discussions on this topic with Far. One question that stood out was, “How can I overcome my incredibly low self-esteem and the overwhelming sense of worthlessness that comes from fearing abandonment?”

My story begins with a significant loss—the absence of my father, who passed away when I was merely two. Growing up with just my mom, this early loss planted a deep-seated fear of being left behind. I’ve always wondered if I was worthy of love and support, and this fear shaped much of my life.

When I was 17, a friendship breakup triggered my deep fear of abandonment as I noticed my friend drifting towards a new group. Instead of facing my insecurities, I withdrew, giving my friend the cold shoulder without explanation, believing it was a defense against rejection. But what I failed to realise was the hurt I was causing my friend—the very person who had stood by me through thick and thin, who had shared my laughter and wiped away my tears. My actions left her confused and hurt, wondering what she had done to deserve such treatment from someone she considered a close friend. I realised too late how my fear of abandonment had driven me to push away someone who mattered deeply to me.

But perhaps the most important lesson I gleaned from this experience was the value of communication and honesty in relationships. I learned that it’s okay to feel afraid, but it’s not okay to let that fear dictate my actions and hurt those I care about. I learned that true strength lies in being vulnerable—in sharing our fears and insecurities rather than hiding them behind walls.

Then came the academic rejections, which seemed to echo my fear of abandonment in a new way. It’s strange, really, how getting turned down for scholarships hurts more than any breakup. The pinnacle of this rejection came when I faced the disappointment of being turned down by numerous scholarship programs. It felt like they were rejecting not just my dreams but me as a person.

Sometimes worrying so much about the future causes me to live in another timeframe instead of being in the moment. I often find myself imagining all kinds of scenarios in the future. Occasionally, I feel like Doctor Strange, calculating the possibility of winning against Thanos. It’s just not Thanos that I’m fighting right now. Just my own head and my dreams.

In reality, I’ve come to understand that my fear of rejection extends beyond just social situations—it affects my approach to love and relationships as well. While it’s normal for most people to feel nervous in situations that could lead to rejection, for me, that fear becomes overwhelming. It’s as if I’m afraid to fully invest myself in relationships, fearing the possibility of rejection so intensely that it overshadows any potential for happiness.

So, whenever someone tells me they’re not ready for a relationship, I truly understand how some people feel unworthy of love. It’s like carrying around a heavy burden of past hurts and doubts, making it hard to believe in our own worthiness. I know that feeling of longing for connection, while also fearing rejection. But in those moments, I remind myself: We are all deserving of love, despite our imperfections. It’s about finding the strength to believe in our own value, even when it feels like the world is telling us otherwise.

During my moments of self-pity, I fell into another toxic habit: comparing myself to others. Even though I knew deep down that comparison doesn’t lead anywhere good and that happiness isn’t a competition, I struggled to follow my own advice. I became overly harsh on myself, constantly judging my attitude, personality, appearance, and academic achievements against those of everyone around me. This constant comparison left me feeling like I was never enough.

I read somewhere that when you’re really insecure, you tend to apologise a lot. I’ve noticed it in myself too. Sometimes, when things don’t go well, I apologise far too often. When people say that girls and women are too apologetic for their own good, I now get it. Even for things that are beyond our control, we apologise.

I would sometimes berate myself for not being okay; as if it were wrong to be a little bit sad at times. Like I said, I was unnecessarily hard on myself. You see, if you’re familiar with me, you’d know that I’m generally a happy person. As in, extremely happy; genuine laughter, mudah terhibur, and a happy smile. It’s part of how people see me as well.

So, when some of my friends started telling me that they could sense I was sad, even though I hadn’t talked to them in a while, I was scared. I had the impression that I was losing a part of myself when, in reality, I was just being a normal human being. A person who has the right to be happy and sad at the same time; who requires a balance of both to begin learning from her mistakes and to be more grateful for what the world brings to the table.

Despite these struggles, I’ve learned that insecurities are a part of being human. We all have moments of doubt and uncertainty, and facing my fear of abandonment has taught me that vulnerability is a form of strength, not weakness.

In the end, it’s all about finding that balance between protecting ourselves and allowing ourselves to be open to love and connection. It’s a journey worth taking, full of learning and growing, and it all starts with believing that we’re worthy of the love and happiness we seek.

— I’m re-uploading this blog post because it seems to have disappeared for some reason.

I’ve learned a lot of things this year. However, the concept of sacrifice is the one that stands out the most. Everyone sacrifices at least one thing in life. There are just too many forms of sacrifice to begin with.

Everyone wants to live a life that is well-balanced and comfortable, to be successful, to have a soulmate and a partner who understands them deeply, to be someone who dares to speak the voices that have been whispering in their head, and, of course, to make memories with the people they love the most.

But if you think about it again, is there anything in life that ever comes in handy without sacrifice? We make numerous sacrifices without realising it. Every great achievement necessitates some level of sacrifice on our part. Because if you’re not willing to sacrifice, nothing is ever going to be yours.

Ask yourself what you have sacrificed this year. Friendship, happiness, time, love, and energy. Anything could be it. Sometimes we even make sacrifices for other people so that they can be content, free of pain, and live the life they want.

I personally enjoy making sacrifices, if not for myself, then for those around me, regardless of whether or not I know them. Since the more I sacrifice, the more good things are coming my way. The more I sacrifice, the more smiles I am able to see in daylight and in darkness on other people around me.

The point is that, regardless of how much we despise giving up time to study or give back to the community, sacrifices are not the bad guys in our lives. But if we do not dare to sacrifice even a slight portion of our time, then we wouldn’t be able to help ourselves become a better person, a better human being in this world. Sometimes we even have to give up our love for someone we can’t have at some point in our lives. or a friendship you believe has been harmful to you. It has got to begin somewhere.

Therefore, I guess you have got to keep on distilling the love for sacrifices, for that is where true happiness and success will bloom in your life.

Life is like chess. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices to win.