Between Thoughts

Category: Letters to Myself

  • Taking Time to Reflect

    Wow—I’m 23 years old now.

    It’s funny how birthdays work. It’s really just like any other day, but for some reason, we’ve decided to make it a day full of meaning, attention, and expectations. And I think that’s actually a beautiful thing. We’ve created this tradition, this reason to come together, to celebrate and appreciate one another. I guess this year I’ve really realized that it’s not about how many people wish you a happy birthday, but who they are and what they mean to you.

    Maybe that’s why it feels strange when a friend doesn’t message, or why some years I don’t care about my birthday at all, and other years — like this one — it feels more special.

    This year, I’ve been reflecting a lot more. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent most of the day alone. Maybe it’s just where I am in life. Either way, I’m sitting with a lot of thoughts and feelings.

    I can feel how much I’ve changed — not in big, obvious ways, but in the quiet moments that add up. I’ve stepped into challenges I once shied away from, and I’m starting to realize that I’m more capable than I once thought. It’s less about reaching a particular destination and more about the journey and growth itself.

    At the same time, I feel this quiet weight of my own goals — the ones I want to reach but don’t know if I can. That mix of pride and uncertainty makes me anxious.

    Still, this morning, I felt happy. Really happy. Because when I look at my life, I see so much to be grateful for: my family, friends, and the fact that I get to wake up and chase things I care about. Sometimes I forget how blessed I am.

    So, I’m glad we’ve made birthdays into something special. It’s a chance to look back, to look forward, and to be surrounded by the people who remind us that we’re not alone in our journeys. I don’t know exactly where this next year will take me, but I do know this: I’ll keep doing the things I love, and I’ll keep trying to become someone I’m proud of.

  • Busy, But Calm: The Strange Peace of Being Swamped

    Being swamped with midterm studying, I’ve realized something kind of strange.

    The busier I am, the calmer I feel.

    Over the past five days, my routine has been the same: wake up, get in a quick workout, eat lunch, and head straight to the library. I study all day, break for dinner, and then usually go back out to keep working until late. I haven’t watched any shows, barely checked social media, and haven’t really had a full conversation that wasn’t about school.

    And yet—my mind has felt quiet. Not numb, not checked out. Just still. I haven’t been overthinking. I haven’t been spiraling. I haven’t even felt all that stressed. It’s like being busy has cleared out the mental clutter.

    But I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

    On one hand, having a full schedule gives me structure. I don’t have time to overanalyze things or get caught in my own head. I feel focused and productive. There’s a kind of peace that comes with that.

    On the other hand, I know what it’s like when I do have time to think. When life slows down, I tend to check in with myself more. I reflect. I feel emotions that I’ve maybe been avoiding. That can be uncomfortable—but it’s also necessary. If I stay in grind mode for too long, I stop noticing how I’m actually doing. I miss the early signs of burnout. I lose touch with what I want outside of the next deadline.

    So now I’m wondering—what does a healthy balance even look like?

    I don’t want to be so busy that I float through life on autopilot, never really feeling things until I crash. But I also don’t want to give myself so much space that I overthink everything and end up paralyzed by it. Maybe the sweet spot is somewhere in between: a routine that keeps me moving, with just enough breathing room to actually feel human.

    Midterms have shown me that busyness can be a buffer. But when this stretch is over, I want to make sure I’m not using that buffer as a long-term crutch.

    my confused face

  • Why do we rush through life?

    After a long Father’s Day, I was driving home from my cousin’s house when—of course—a red light hit just as I pulled up. I sat there, impatient and tired, just wanting to get home and sleep. Time ticked away while I sat at the light.

    Finally—green light. The car in front of me took off, and so did I. Not even three seconds later, I saw the cars that hadn’t stopped at my light already stuck at the next one. Just like that, we were right behind them. So what was the point of getting annoyed and thinking, “If I had made that light, we’d be so much closer to home right now?” That brief, pointless frustration stuck with me.

    Why are we always in a rush? Rush to find a job. Rush to find a partner. Rush to graduate.

    Sure, our time is precious. But sometimes it feels like we treat life like a checklist—just racing from one green light to the next, assuming the faster we get there, the better off we’ll be.

    We’re so focused on where we think we should be that we miss where we actually are. The conversations we brush off. The passions we put off. The detours we don’t allow ourselves to take.

    And when we do hit a red light—when we fall behind or take a different route—it feels like failure. But it’s not. If anything, those moments are where we learn who we are outside of the timeline we’re trying to follow.

    We get so caught up in finishing what we started that we forget to ask if it still matters to us, or if we’re just afraid to slow down.

    Honestly, I don’t even know why I came back to school. Maybe it was the pressure from my parents. Maybe I wanted stability for some version of the future I haven’t even figured out yet. Or maybe chasing my dreams just started to feel too uncertain—too uncomfortable.

    And maybe that’s okay. Maybe asking the questions matters more than rushing to find the answers.

    After taking a year off school to do what I love, it’s hard not to feel like I’m playing catch-up while my friends walk across the stage.

    But maybe I’m not behind at all. Maybe I’m just catching the next green light—on my own path, at my own pace.

  • No One Knows Anything

    We live in a world of infinite information, yet many people still feel lost. In some ways, I can say the same.

    I look around and everyone seems to have their lives figured out; they’ve graduated university and landed a six-figure job at a big-name company. I look at myself and see someone who is still unsure, straddling the line of doing what I want to do and what I “should” do.

    I still struggle with this concept of feeling fulfillment in life. Isn’t getting a well-paying job and living a comfortable life the way to get there? Having food, water, shelter and good company — that’s all I need, right? No — at least, I can’t subscribe to that mindset yet.

    In spite of my own comfort, I want to do what really aligns with who I am. Is that possible? What even is that? There’s only one way to find out, and that’s by trying, taking risks, and being vulnerable.

    I want to emphasize “vulnerable” here because there WILL be times where you fail. People will look at you and wonder why you chose the harder path, when you had everything lined up in front of you.

    In the end, no one really knows what they’re doing in life. We’re all just wandering through life on this floating rock, trying to figure it out.

    So do more of what feels right, and less of what weighs you down.