At some point in life, we all find ourselves asking the big questions: What is my purpose? Why am I here? For many, this sense of uncertainty can be overwhelming, leading to feelings of confusion, self-doubt, and the fear of making the wrong choice. It's the kind of question that seems so vast and unanswerable, often leaving us lost in a sea of possibilities. In the song "What Was I Made For?" by Billie Eilish, the artist captures this exact sentiment, expressing a longing for direction and the frustration of not knowing one's place in the world. The lyrics echo a common inner dialogue many people experience, especially during moments of transition or self-reflection.

We live in a world where everyone seems to have it all figured out—career paths, relationships, and dreams laid out before them. But for those of us who are unsure, the constant comparison can make the uncertainty even harder to bear. We wonder, Am I on the right path? How do I know which direction to go in? And if I make the wrong choice, how will I find my way back?

The search for purpose is not an easy one, and the answers rarely come immediately. Often, the most profound realizations happen when we stop overthinking and begin to embrace the journey, even when we don’t have all the answers. Life doesn’t always provide a clear-cut map, but sometimes that’s part of the beauty—learning as we go, finding meaning in unexpected places, and growing from our mistakes.

One of the biggest challenges of finding purpose is the fear of getting lost along the way. The world seems full of endless options, and sometimes, the pressure to pick the “right” one feels paralyzing. But the reality is that no path is ever entirely linear. Life is full of twists and turns, each experience adding a layer of understanding to who we are and what we want from life. Instead of focusing solely on the destination, it might be helpful to shift the perspective to the present moment. What brings you joy? What are you passionate about? The answers to these questions can often lead you in the right direction, even if the steps are small and uncertain.

One of the most important things to remember is that it's okay to not have everything figured out. The key is to trust yourself. You don’t need to have the entire map of your life drawn out right now; instead, trust that each step you take will lead you closer to understanding your purpose. It’s okay to wander and even get lost sometimes, because those moments often teach us the most.

Sometimes, your purpose isn’t a singular, grand destination. It could be a collection of things that make you feel alive—your passions, the people you connect with, and the way you impact the world around you. And while it’s important to have goals and aspirations, it’s just as important to give yourself the space to explore and evolve.

While the fear of being lost is real, there is also a strange freedom in not knowing the exact path ahead. It allows room for growth, for trying new things, and for discovering parts of yourself you might not have known otherwise. Life is a journey, and with each twist and turn, we uncover a little more of what it means to be truly alive. As you reflect on your own path and question your purpose, remember that it’s not about having all the answers right now. The answers will come in time, through experiences, through challenges, and through moments of self-reflection. Embrace the uncertainty—it’s part of the journey.

I know how it feels to be judged—to carry the weight of eyes that only see your faults, to suffocate under assumptions that strip away your truth. I know how it feels to gasp for breath, yearning for someone to truly listen, only to be met with silence or dismissal. I know how it feels to not be understood, to speak a language no one seems willing to learn.

Sometimes, I wish things could be different. I wish I could rewind time—to the day before it all began, to the hour or even the minute before judgment became my shadow. Those moments, though fleeting, felt lighter than the heaviness I carry now. How I wish I wasn’t the one chosen to bear this weight.

I’ve often thought of myself as the black sheep among the rest, the one who stands apart—not because of choice, but because of circumstance. Perhaps I’m the indifferent one, the one who doesn’t quite fit the mold. And yet, this difference makes me a target, a canvas for misunderstanding and misplaced blame.

When I say I know how it feels, I mean it with every fiber of my being. But what I wish most is for you to truly understand. If only you could step into my shoes, even for a moment. Yet, I know that’s impossible. Your feet are either too big or too small, and no matter how hard you try or how earnestly you claim to understand, you never will. You may empathize, but you can never fully know what it’s like to walk my path, to bear my pain.

It’s frustrating when people say, “I get it,” because they don’t. They can’t. My struggles are mine alone, as unique as the print of my sole. And though I’ve longed for someone to fill these shoes, to share this burden, I’ve come to realize that it’s not about them walking in my shoes. It’s about them standing beside me, offering support as I walk my path.

Perhaps one day, someone will truly see me—not as a black sheep or an outsider, but as a person with a story worth understanding. Until then, I will keep walking, even if the shoes feel too heavy and the road too lonely. Because, in the end, this path is mine, and only I can walk it.

We often find ourselves trapped in a cycle where our actions and achievements are scrutinized through the lens of public opinion. When someone falls or stumbles, the immediate reaction is often embarrassment—concerned more about what others might think than about the injury or discomfort. This tendency extends beyond physical slips and spills, permeating our daily lives and our sense of self-worth.

In life, failure is frequently met with a sense of shame, driven by the fear of judgment. We become preoccupied with how our failures are perceived by others, losing sight of the personal impact these setbacks have on us. This focus on external validation means that our successes become mere exhibits for public approval, rather than personal triumphs. We celebrate achievements not for their intrinsic value but for how they are perceived by others.

This pattern reflects a broader societal issue where personal pride and self-worth are often overshadowed by the need for external validation. We find ourselves in a cycle where our successes are not truly our own but are instead showcased for others to see, while our failures become sources of embarrassment. In this environment, we lose sight of the true value of our actions and the importance of personal fulfillment.

Breaking free from this cycle requires a shift in perspective. We must learn to value our own achievements for their true worth and to accept our failures as part of our growth, rather than as reflections of our worthiness. Only then can we find genuine pride in our endeavors and embrace our journey with authenticity and self-respect.

It started like any other day. I woke up expecting things to be the same—ordinary, predictable. But I had no idea that everything would change.

The fear I had always carried quietly in my heart had finally come to life. My world froze, stopped dead in its tracks. Pain, devastation, and brokenness crawled back to me, each emotion battling for dominance in a storm of confusion.

I wished, with every fiber of my being, that it was just a nightmare—a terrible dream I could wake up from. But no. This was real. I was more awake than I’d ever been, yet I felt paralyzed, unable to cope with the whirlwind around me.

Everything happened so fast, and amidst it all, their pity cut through me like a knife. It wasn’t genuine. It was hollow, a mask hiding their judgment. Their stares burned into me—cold, piercing, and unforgiving. Whispers followed me like ghosts, haunting my every step. They thought I didn’t notice, but I did. I noticed it all.

They talked as though they knew me, each with their own twisted version of my story. Rumors spread like wildfire, and I was the fuel keeping their flames alive. I had my truth, but no one cared to hear it. I pleaded, my voice breaking, but they turned me away as if I didn’t matter.

Meltdowns and breakdowns became my constant companions, shadowing me wherever I went. They seeped into my soul, becoming a part of who I was.

The girl who once clung to hope in the face of difficulty was gone. All that remained was helplessness—a silent scream in a world that refused to listen.

Ashley had been living at her grandmother's ever since her father had remarried, choosing his new life over her and her mother. Her mom, determined to make ends meet, worked tirelessly as a housekeeper for one of the wealthiest families in town. Thanks to her mother’s hard work, Ashley had been granted a scholarship to attend an elite school, one worlds apart from what she was used to.

That morning, she woke up early, carefully dressed, and packed her bag. She knew she should feel excited, but nervousness twisted in her stomach as she headed out. When she reached the city’s bustling main road, her mind drifted—lost in thoughts of her mom, her grandmother, and the unfamiliar world waiting for her. She stepped forward without noticing a car speeding toward her. The blare of a horn jolted her, and she froze. But the car screeched to a halt just inches away.

Leon, who had been lounging in the back seat, felt the abrupt stop and leaned forward. Seeing her dazed expression, he quickly stepped out of the car and offered a hand. Ashley’s heart pounded as she accepted his help, murmured a thank-you, and hurried toward the school gates, too shaken to look back.

Inside, she was directed to the principal's office, where she listened to an intimidating rundown of the school's high expectations. Every word felt like a weight, but she nodded, determined to make her mother proud. Afterward, a tall girl with a friendly face entered the office.

"Hi, I’m Ruby," she introduced herself with a warm smile. "I’m the class prefect, and I’ll show you around."

Ashley managed a small smile back, feeling a glimmer of hope in the kindness of this new face.

Tick-tock, tick-tock—each second, each minute, each hour, I can hear my watch ticking so loudly. Time marches on, indifferent to the chaos within me. Voices surround me, some shattering like glass, others slicing through the air, penetrating deep into my mind. Every word cuts me, a slow and relentless erosion of my spirit, killing a little more inside. Soon enough, I fear I'll become the so-called walking dead, a hollow shell moving through the motions of life.

But there's one thing I forgot to tell you: my mind hears it all, cataloging every slight, every wound, yet my heart… my heart has lost its sense of feeling hurt. It's grown so accustomed to the pain, to the endless cycle of breaking and mending, that it doesn’t even care anymore. The ache that once consumed me has dulled to a numbness, a quiet resignation. So, brain, do your thing—analyze, protect, and distance yourself. My heart has retired, weary from the burden of emotions it can no longer bear.

In this silence, I find a strange comfort, a peace that comes from accepting the inevitable. The tick-tock fades into the background, a reminder that time heals, or perhaps, time simply numbs. Either way, I continue, a soldier of routine, with a mind sharp as ever but a heart that has chosen to rest.

Words swirl in my mind, yet they refuse to form anything solid. It’s like I’m in a constant race, always running, never able to stop. Behind me, emotions loom—fear, confusion, anger—closing in like shadows I can’t escape.

"Get out of my mind!" I shout silently, desperate for peace. "I'm done playing your games, done with the lies you whisper."

But they don’t listen. They keep scribbling over the pages of my life, distorting the story I want to tell. One day, they paint it with joy, a picture-perfect happiness; the next, they tear it apart, leaving nothing but chaos in their wake.

Can you just leave me alone? Let me breathe, let me think, let me write my own story, free from your relentless grip. I want to craft a life of my own making, not live a script you’ve written, full of twisted plots and unpredictable turns.

But even as I demand my freedom, I know the truth—they are part of me. These feelings, these thoughts—they’re mine, and they’re not going anywhere. So maybe, instead of running, it’s time to face them. To take back the pen, and write my story, not in spite of them, but with them. Because maybe, just maybe, the story they help me write will be one worth telling.

**Every time I close my eyes, darkness envelops me. It's the same darkness I see when I look up at the sky. Yet, the darkness within me and the darkness above are not the same.

The darkness behind my closed eyes holds my past—echoes of both joy and pain that have shaped who I am. Each shadow and light in my memories weave a complex tapestry of experiences. But the darkness in the sky speaks of my future, where distant stars pierce through the night, their light enduring even against the brilliance of the moon.

In their silent dance, both forms of darkness guide me. My past, with its lessons and legacies, compels me to keep the stars of my future burning bright. The stars remind me that even in the vast expanse of the unknown, there is always a glimmer of hope and possibility, urging me to navigate towards the light while embracing the shadows that have made me who I am.**

**You treat me like a piece of shit, just a tool for your convenience.

I keep asking if I wasn't enough, if our friendship was merely a facade.

I even lost myself trying to be there for you, pouring out my heart,

Only to discover that I meant nothing to you.

I tried to reach out, to make you listen, but my words were just background noise to you.

Every effort I made felt like an echo in an empty room,

My sincerity drowned out by your indifference.

I gave you my trust and affection,

Only to watch it crumble, like sand slipping through my fingers.

Now, I'm left with the bitter truth—my worth was never acknowledged,

And the silence between us speaks louder than any words ever could.**

I was in a deep sleep, and my dream slipped away,

When focus faded, my days fell into disarray.

I don't want to wait until it’s too late,

For this to become my inevitable fate.

I’m searching for a way to save the day,

But can’t I see I'm in my own mental fray?

Am I plotting my own treason,

Trapped in a prison of my own reason?

Locked up in a cell of self-made despair,

Falling from a ship I can no longer steer.

Each choice seems like a step to the abyss,

A journey of missteps I can't dismiss.

Why can’t I reclaim my lost foundation,

And salvage what's left of my reputation?

Perhaps it's time to break these chains,

To confront the doubts and fears that remain.

I'll seek a path to restore what's been lost,

And find the strength, no matter the cost.

For even in the darkest of night,

There’s always hope to reignite.