Adulthood: A Series of Small Heartbreaks and Bigger Breakthroughs!
I used to dream of growing up and becoming an adult when I was younger, and to me, success in adulthood meant having lovely things and earning a lot of money. Adulthood is waking up exhausted, going to work exhausted, and then repeating the process.
It's a mix of awe and innocence, the pure-hearted idea that adulthood would be amazing. Before, I found that growing up frequently involves letting go of part of that enchantment while striving to hold on to just enough of it to keep dreaming.
Crying in the middle of the night—not because of love, but rather due to obligations, expectations, and disappointments—is the most challenging aspect of becoming an adult.
It's about choosing to keep your sense of wonder in the face of life's many responsibilities, such as debts to pay, decisions to make, and challenges to overcome; it's about finding a careful balance between working on the tasks at hand and clinging to your deepest dreams; it's about enduring the present while clinging to hope for the future, realizing that even in the face of adversity, there is still room for happiness, opportunity, and a little magic along the way.
However, as time passed, I realized that it was more about being content and joyful with what I already had. It's about enjoying meals with family, laughing with friends, and savoring the small things that add genuine significance to life.
The small pleasures that bring true happiness are far more critical than the things I used to believe were most important. Now, regardless of how great or small my accomplishments are, I realize that true success is having peace in my heart.
To prove I was living my life to the fullest, I used to believe I needed to pursue something more ambitious. I had to always aim for a better life, a larger house, and a higher income. However, I've been taking solace in the mundane lately, and I've realized that perhaps that isn't settling.
The absence of dreams is not a sign of stability. The silent miracle of provision might be the cause.
A roof above my head. There are meals on the table. On-time bill payment is made. The opportunity to giggle over a movie or milk tea on a weekend. Coffee and a calm morning. Evenings spent with those I care about. A routine without the sense of competition.
And maybe that's what my soul was craving all along—not the noise of ambition, but the stillness of enough. So, no, my life may not be grand by the world's standards. But it's whole in its way. And I'm learning to be deeply, entirely okay with that. Because of this kind of stability? It's sacred. It's steady. And it's more than enough.
I'm thinking about my objectives and dreams more as I get older. Having dreams is not nearly as essential as finding a method to make them come true. I'm learning how important it is to set realistic goals, break them down into doable chunks, and make a roadmap that works for me. Self-discovery, trial and error, and planning for a future that aligns with my goals are all part of the process. Every small step feels like a step closer to something important, even if it's not always simple.
Being an adult is exhausting.
Too many heartbreaks, disappointments, and loneliness can make the journey lonely. It can be frightening to have late-night thoughts and incessant worry. But remember that every obstacle you encounter is only making you a better version of yourself.
The depth of our experiences, the struggles we've faced, and the scars we've healed are what define our stories, not the number of years.
