The Pesky Pen

I continually find myself standing at internal crossroads. It is an exhausting state of self-doubts and confusion where I feel caught between different versions of myself. It first started with the question of whether I could be a writer. Then I wondered if I would be happier designing homes. Or perhaps it would be more fulfilling to create bespoke gowns for people to wear. On the other hand, maybe it’s best for me to reach my full potential by pursuing further education in a developed country.

With a wandering mind that loves possibilities, there’s never a shortage of ideas for me to consider. But over time, I have turned into a victim of my own making, where the more possibilities I choose to consider, the more stuck I become with not knowing what I truly want.

Over dinner one evening, a friend poignantly said, ‘the problem is that you’re stuck in your comfort zone.’

It sounded like a cliche that was thrown around without a second thought. How could I possibly be in a comfort zone when I’d never decided to step into one? A moment of pause. I raked my brain for what I’d done lately that terrified me. Nothing came to mind. 

After many years of unsustained efforts at aimless endeavors, it was undeniable that something wasn’t working. Maybe I had been choosing comfort over facing new challenges. Without realizing it, I’d slowly turned into the thing that I’d never thought I could be – an individual who prioritized their comfort over growth.

In my idealistic desire for the perfect path, I seemed to have been inching towards a painless life instead of a meaningful one. Considering these scenarios of what I could do next was daunting and overwhelming, so instead of taking any step forward, I simply created more questions to delay arriving at a decision. I’d given in to my fear of taking a bad path, so much so that I’d procrastinated on committing to any path at all. I’d been too weak to choose which sacrifices are worth enduring for me. And worst of all, I’d started to lose trust in myself.

Later on in the conversation, the same friend made another keen observation. ‘You’re only going to work on something when you know that it is going to be seen.’ Once again, I had to admit that she was right. This was how we came to the conclusion that I had to write something every week, to be shared with others via a blog. Now my highly supportive, and strict, friend was determined to hold me accountable to my weekly commitments, where my failing to do so would mean a certain punishment for my sins.

Writing this blog will not put me on a career path, but maybe it is the clarity that I gain from it that will nudge me in the right direction. My weekly posts will be random and on any topic that catches my interest. However, I am certain that this will be a place for self-reflection, a space for me to face the tough questions rather than look away when they become uneasy.

I’ve always thought that having a purpose is something that is deeply personal, but perhaps it is only through sharing my personal fears and failings with others that I can find myself again.