Confessions from a Confused Mind

I've just turned 25, and life's taken a new bend in the road. I look back to the time I'd turned 18, with stars in my eyes, and so many hopes and dreams. When I was 18, I'd never dreamt that I would know the taste of failure. I didn't dare to hope to be a roaring success, but I would certainly never miss a step in my path, professional or personal. I'd always been one of the "smart" people in my class, one that everyone assumed would go far. I would be a CA by the time I was 21, and MBA by 23, working in a top company, and set on course for CEO by the time I turned 40. My whole life was mapped down, on a piece of paper which I don't dare look at now, because that person doesn't exist anymore.

But maybe, not daring to hope ended up being a very costly mistake. Maybe it did not give me the impetus enough to raise myself a level higher, give that extra effort to do better than I was doing. I wonder now, why I never tried hard enough to be the very best, why I was content to be the second or even the third best. Still, somehow, I don't regret it. I ask myself, the question now, do I really want to be the best? Would I be happy being the best at what I'm doing? What really is happiness anyway? The last is a question I've been asking myself for years, and I've not come anywhere close to the answer yet.

And now, having tasted the bitterness of failure, multiple times, I'm not sure of anything anymore. I'm not sure of what I might be capable of doing or what I would be happy doing. Every step is tentative and unsure. People give me well-intentioned advice, of what I should want, what I should be aiming for, and what path would get me there. I listen, because I don't know to say that, just maybe, I don't want to go down that road, because I don't know which road I want to go down. I've ended up deliberately isolating myself from family and friends, because talking and listening has become a source of anxiety and exhaustion.

Failure has however, helped me grow as a person the way I don't think I would have otherwise. Its taught me resilience, given me power to hope again and again. Most importantly, its given me the strength and independence to face up to mistakes, take responsibility for them and move on. I've learned to recognise myself as a person, and depend on me more than on anyone else. 

Even though I have a job now, I'm still finding my feet, learning to adjust and be happy again. It might take some time, but its okay. Its my life to live, and I'm learning to come to terms with the fact that, others might have their expectations and hopes, its still my pace to take and to learn. I have to figure out what makes me happy, even if it doesn't make others, even my family, happy. That might sound selfish, but I can't help that.

This, in many ways, has been a self-absorbed rant, but it has taken a lot of things off my chest. I also hope that, someone in a similar situation will read this, and know they're not alone. And that its okay to take that time to learn to be happy.