Lost.

I should find myself, right?

Another sleepless night. I can feel the exhaustion creeping in, but the thoughts just won’t stop. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" My mom’s voice echoes in my mind, like a question that’s been hanging in the air for so long that I’ve started to question it myself. She’s asked me this before, but now, it feels like an accusation of everything I’ve failed to do.

Sometimes, I feel like I’m standing still while the world keeps moving around me. Everyone else seems to have it all together. They’re crossing off milestones, checking boxes, and living lives that seem so put together while I’m here, lost in a maze of decisions I don’t even remember making. It’s like I’m watching it all through a lens, watching them live their lives, moving forward, while I’m just… here. Stuck. Detached. It’s as if I’m not even really living. I’m just existing, in the background of everyone else’s story.

I promised myself I’d never let life pass me by, that I would always be moving forward, even when it felt like things were falling apart. But now, looking back, I can’t help but feel like I’ve let so many opportunities slip through my fingers. I had some money, but I spent it all. I leaned into love, but I forgot how to fall. I let time slip by, too busy doing things that didn’t matter, too distracted by trying to prove something to someone.

And now, here I am: feeling left out, stuck, unsure of where to go next. The weight of disappointment feels heavy, and the exhaustion is real. I’ve tried, but it never feels like it’s enough. I see my friends moving forward, living lives I thought I’d be living too, and I wonder where I went wrong. It feels like I missed something—lost something important along the way.

But the truth is, I’m tired. I’m tired of questioning every little thing. Tired of wondering if I’m making the right choices. Tired of trying to be “somebody” when I don’t even know who that somebody is anymore. I’ve been chasing after something, but now I don’t even remember what it is.

Some days, I feel like I’ve already hit my peak. The dreams I had when I was younger, the things I thought would come easy, now feel like distant memories. Now, the question that keeps me up at night is "What am I doing?" and it’s starting to sound like an accusation more than a question.

But maybe it’s okay. It’s okay to not have it all figured out. It’s okay to feel lost. The pressure to have everything “together” is just another story we’ve been told to believe. I need to stop trying to be somebody I’m not and start figuring out who I really am, even if that means getting a little lost along the way.

So, yeah. I’m not sure I know what I’m doing. But that’s the point. It’s the not knowing that makes the journey worth it, even if it doesn’t feel like it now. In the end, the only thing I really need to be is me—and I’m still figuring out what that looks like.