07/09/2026
๐ช๐ต๐ผ ๐ฑ๐ถ๐ฑ ๐๐ผ๐ ๐ต๐ฎ๐๐ฒ ๐๐ผ ๐ฏ๐ฒ๐ฐ๐ผ๐บ๐ฒ ๐๐ผ ๐ฏ๐ฒ ๐น๐ผ๐๐ฒ๐ฑ?
Iโve been thinking about this question a lot.
Because I donโt think most of us consciously decide to leave ourselves behind.
It happens quietly.
We learn what keeps the peace.
What earns approval.
What makes the people around us happy.
We learn when to speak โ and when it feels safer to stay quiet.
We become helpful. Accommodating. Responsible. Strong.
We become very good at sensing what everyone else needs.
And somewhere along the way, we can become less certain of what we need.
The strange thing is that many of these qualities are rewarded.
We may even be loved for them.
So perhaps we never stop to ask:
How much of the woman I became was truly me โ and how much of her was shaped by who I thought I needed to be?
This has been one of the most confronting parts of my own journey.
Realising just how many of my choices had been shaped by old patterns, expectations and the desire to keep other people happy.
At first, I felt shocked by it.
Then I grieved.
Not because the woman I had become was wrong.
She had done the best she could with everything she had learned.
But I began to see just how much of myself I had left behind while being her.
And eventually, I stopped asking:
How do I become a better version of myself?
And started asking:
Who am I underneath everything I learned I needed to be?
I think thatโs where returning to yourself begins.
Not by changing everything overnight.
But by seeing.
Seeing the patterns.
Seeing the adaptations.
Seeing the places where youโve been disappearing.
And slowly recognising that you have choices now that perhaps you didnโt know you had before.
Sometimes returning to yourself means honouring the woman you had to become...
and letting her know she doesnโt have to carry everything anymore.
๐ฟ