Do whatever is best for you. Don’t waiver if you feel some resistance along the way. It’s ok, it’s inevitable to feel that resistance. When you start to do what’s best for you, you’ll eventually run into people that want you to do something different. Don’t get angry with them either, it’s normal for them to want you to do something else. In a perfect world everyone does whatever we want. This is no perfect world though. You see that clear as day. So why be perfect? Why even care if you land anywhere near perfect? Besides, who has the say on what is actually perfect. In the end it all falls onto an opinion. If you can just bypass your uneasiness of people’s opinions of you, then you can do anything you want. Who’s going to tell you otherwise?
There’s a silent war between doing what’s best for me and doing what others expect. I’ve lived in both worlds long enough to feel the tension in my bones. But the more I walk this path, the more I realize—resistance is the price of authenticity. You don’t get to be true to yourself without challenging the roles others cast you in. It’s not rebellion; it’s remembrance. Remembering who I am before I was told who to be.
I’ve let that uneasiness rule me before. Let the discomfort of disapproval steer me off course, gently at first, then entirely. But now I see it—perfection was never the goal. That was just another cage dressed in gold. What matters isn’t how closely I resemble someone else’s ideal. It’s how deeply I align with what I know to be real within me, even if that truth is messy, incomplete, or misunderstood.
There’s a strange freedom in letting go of the need to be understood. In that space, I start to act—not for applause, not for recognition—but because I must. Because something deeper calls me forward. That voice isn’t loud, but it’s firm. It says: walk your path, even if it’s lonely. Especially if it’s lonely. You’ll know it’s yours because no one else will understand it fully. That’s the proof you’re onto something real.
