I’m always on the go, to the point where sometimes I question when I even sleep.

Honestly two hours, because my mind is continuously racing.

The question I’ve started to ask myself is whether I’m too ambitious, or am I afraid that when I slow down, I’ll lose myself or won’t feel needed?

Sometimes I wonder if being busy makes me feel important.

Like if I keep moving, achieving, and helping, then I’m still needed.

And maybe slowing down scares me because I have to sit with who I am without the hustle.

I think having goals and ambition is something everyone should have.

You should want something for yourself and create a plan to achieve it, but not to the extent that your health starts to deteriorate because you are not 100 percent yourself.

There have been many times when I kept pushing myself to the brink because I thought stopping meant I was failing.

Continuously telling myself I could rest later.

But it never happened.

In that case, resting and pouring back into yourself until you feel like yourself again is okay.

I just had to learn that the hard way.

Lessons I Have Learned

1. You can’t be 100 percent yourself when you are only operating as a shell of yourself.

2. When you slow down, the world still continues on.

3. Ambition and determination are wonderful when you have a controlled focus and goal. Pick three, not seven, and continue to work toward them.

4. Regulate yourself because you only have one body.

5. Learn when to push yourself and when to pull away when needed.

6. Last but not least, you can slow down and still be ambitious.

I hope you can apply these lessons to your life.

Love,
Amanda

This doesn’t mean that I’m spiraling. I realize that watching reset routines on social media does nothing for me mentally. Nothing is wrong with watching someone create and build a new routine, but when I apply it to my own life, it never sticks.

By trial and error, I wrote down questions that have always helped me through the ups and downs of life.

Mini Question Workbook — Ask Yourself Truthfully

• Do I need a new self or be more open on being my true self?

• Am I living as a fraction of myself because I’m scared of perception?

• Am I loving myself wholeheartedly?

• Do I provide space for myself to express my thoughts and feelings?

• Does my space create an environment to flourish?

• Do I feel stagnant because of my own feelings or my environment?

• Do I actually want to change?

• What parts of myself am I trying to bury deep

• Do I feel like myself in the life I am creating?

The point isn’t about curating a new life.

It is learning how to be more open about who I already am.

Ask yourself these questions, and open your heart to yourself. Your heart will always love you back.

Sincerely,

Amanda

Am I truly lonely?

Sometimes yes, because I crave relationship. I wish someone could talk to me and be with me.

But on the flip side, I have discovered myself so much that I’ve realized this loneliness is just a feeling.

I love having people I love around me. I love getting to know more people. Even people I met in college have moved away, and when we text back and forth, it sends a spark of dopamine because it’s still human connection.

In retrospect, I think we all want to be needed.

But now that I’m older, I think what we really need is ourselves.

Loving ourselves.

Speaking life into our own lives.

Yes, we may feel loneliness, but we aren’t alone.

No one else in this world can fulfill our needs except ourselves.

I truly believe we live our lives single, and then we decide to join another person on their journey.

The same goes for friendships.

We’re additions to each other’s lives.

We aren’t the filling in each other’s lives.

We’re the side dish you eat with the main dish.

That doesn’t mean we’re less important.

It means we each have our own agenda, our own timeline, and our own life.

Another thing I’ve had to stop thinking is that maybe friendships and relationships aren’t in the cards for me.

I believe in the power of words, and I think it’s crucial to speak life into yourself.

Instead of saying something negative, I’ve been learning to say something different.

I attract fruitful relationships.

People love being around me.

Even if you don’t believe it yet, continue saying it until you do.

The biggest shift happened when I changed my mindset from not enough to enough.

I felt the stress and the weight lift from my shoulders because I realized I had been searching for outside validation.

One day, I wrote down all of my accomplishments and goals.

Seeing everything laid out in front of me made me so proud.

I looked at that page and told myself,

“Thank you for not giving up.”

For the first time, I validated myself.

Not in a narcissistic way.

Out of love.

Out of kindness.

I still believe we all want connection.

I still believe relationships and friendships are beautiful.

But I no longer believe someone else can fulfill what I haven’t given myself first.

Searching for love is finding joy within yourself.

With Love,

Amanda

Yes, everyone is on that one road. But does that automatically make it the better route?

You may never know.

And who gets to decide which route is better anyway?

This theme ties back into trusting myself. Staying committed to my dream because it is my dream. My goal. My life.

That takes dedication, especially when the people around you may not fully understand what you are building or why you are choosing a different path.

We live in a world where we want to be liked, accepted, and part of a community. But I think real community is a mix of different thoughts, experiences, and perspectives.

You can listen to people. You can learn from them.

You can also take what resonates with you and leave what does not.

Being part of a community does not mean everyone has to think the same way.

Over the years, I have learned that liking things because everyone else does, or changing parts of yourself just to fit in, can slowly eliminate small pieces of yourself.

It is okay to disagree.

It is okay to choose another road.

It is okay if your dream does not make sense to everyone else.

Maybe being secure in yourself is not about never questioning your decisions. Maybe it is trusting yourself enough to hear other people’s opinions without immediately questioning your own beliefs.

One thing I’m learning to do is build that trust from the inside out.

I do this by asking myself these questions:

• How do I see myself?

• What do I believe about myself?

• What do I want to remember when doubt gets loud?

Write those answers somewhere you can see them. Put them on your phone. Put them on your mirror. Return to them whenever you start forgetting your own voice.

You can also try this exercise:

I trust myself to make __________.

I trust myself to do __________.

I trust myself to live __________.

I trust myself to believe __________.

This is trust.

Trust in yourself.

Trust in the dream you cannot fully comprehend.

Trust in the road you chose, even when everyone else seems to be walking in another direction.

P.S. Everyone doesn’t have to agree with you.

Love,

Amanda

Essay Question:

Do you think there is ever a final version of ourselves?

After finishing my summer semester, I kept thinking about this: I am a work in progress, and I am not at my final destination.

But then I started thinking: is there really a final destination for my life?

Could it be living in my dream house, driving my dream car, marrying my soulmate?

And even if I did all of those things, would I still be satisfied?

Having a work-in-progress mindset has helped me not become stagnant. It pushes me forward toward my next goal.

I can envision myself doing great things, almost like a track star jumping over hurdles.

To me, a WIP mindset means understanding that we all have the same number of minutes in a day, and it is up to us how we use them.

But it also reminds me to slow down.

I do not need to do everything at once.

Sometimes moving one inch toward a goal is still progress.

It also reminds me that I need to work on myself if I want to create momentum in the things I want to do.

Not for anyone else.

For me.

I have learned that sometimes it is not about the job itself. It is about how I handle the job.

That is how I break down the WIP mindset:

Create the inner momentum first.

The mindset shift that comes with being a work in progress is also learning how to be okay with doubt.

You have to learn how to shake off negative energy and not let it become the voice you listen to the most.

The energy you want has to start within you.

If you need to create an alter ego, write positive quotes, speak differently to yourself, or remind yourself who you are becoming, then do it.

All I am really saying is: treat yourself better.

And if I could answer my earlier question — will I ever be satisfied? — the answer is probably yes.

And maybe sometimes no.

Because there will be moments when I outgrow my own definition of what I thought I wanted.

And that is okay.

That is part of my journey.

Maybe the final destination keeps moving because I keep growing.

Maybe being a work in progress means there is no permanent finish line.

There is only the next version of me, the next goal, the next lesson, and the next step forward.

And I think I am okay with that.

Thanks for reading, and all love,

Amanda

Are you dating yourself enough?

I don’t think we spend enough time getting to know ourselves.

For so long, I was chasing goals, checking boxes, and imagining the life I wanted so much that it consumed my life.

But somewhere along the way, I realized I knew more about my future than I did about the woman I am now.

I could tell you everything that I wanted in a relationship.

Someone who is nice.

Someone who listens.

Someone who celebrates small wins.

Then I asked myself a question that I never really thought about.

When was the last time I was those things for myself?

I think about this question a lot.

Maybe this is what I’m learning in this new season.

To stop waiting for someone else to validate me.

But to learn more about the person I see in the mirror every single day.

Every day, I’m learning what makes me laugh.

I’m learning to be vulnerable with myself before I’m vulnerable with someone else.

I’m learning that slowing down doesn’t mean I’m falling behind. It means I’m finally paying attention and changing direction when I need to.

I’m also learning that self-care isn’t just candles, coffee, or taking a day off. I think it’s keeping promises to myself. Sometimes, it’s letting myself be excited about something without immediately questioning if I deserve this feeling.

I’m learning to celebrate the wins because I spend so much time thinking about the next goal that I forget to enjoy the one I’m standing in.

This is what dating yourself is about. It’s not about constantly changing your life to a new aesthetic.

But actually enjoying yourself.

Sometimes I wonder if we’re looking for a connection when what we really need is acceptance.

I’m not saying we have to be perfect before we fall in love.

I don’t believe that is the case at all.

But I do think there’s something beautiful about walking into a relationship already knowing who you are—The complete you.

Where you already know what brings you peace.

Not because another person completes you.

But because they get to share life with you, not complete you.

So this is the stripped down me.

Taking myself on my first solo date.

Learning my favorite places.

Listening to my own thoughts.

Becoming someone I genuinely enjoy spending time with.

In this season, it’s not about finding the right person.

But becoming deeply connected with the one person who has been with me through everything: myself.

Looking back on my life, I have realized that I have been living in such a rush.

I always believed that the more I did, the closer I would get to my future self. Like if I kept working, planning, creating, and doing more, somehow the distance between who I am now and who I want to become would get smaller and smaller.

But honestly, that was farther from the truth.

Instead, I was creating a bigger distance between myself and the life I was already living.

It felt like I had a cloth over my eyes for so long, and when it was finally removed, I could see the light.

And not just the “light at the end of the tunnel” type of light.

I could actually see what was around me.

The sprint on the treadmill called life did help me become more dedicated to myself, but at the same time, I was burned out mentally and physically.

I was constantly telling myself,

“You’re not doing enough.”

Meanwhile, my mind was filled with business ideas, work, school, things I wanted to create, things I needed to do, and everything in between.

There was always something.

During that period, I finally sat with myself and wrote down everything I had going on.

And I told myself,

“You’re enough.”

Not because I had multiple things going on, which I did.

But because internally, my spirit needed to hear it.

I needed to know that I didn’t have to keep proving that I was doing enough.

Sometimes thinking that you’re not doing enough isn’t a physical block.

It is a mental one.

It can make you feel like you are lacking something or like you should be somewhere else in life already.

And I think that is what I had to change.

My mindset.

I had to remind myself that I have no need to rush through life when I still have such a long way to go.

There are still so many things I want to experience, so many things I want to create, and so many versions of myself that I haven’t even met yet.

But I don’t want to miss who I am right now, trying to get to her.

It is okay to be present.

Because in the future, you may miss this moment.

Love,

Amanda

I wanted to create a space where we could talk beyond the essays and Notes, so I’m opening the SoloPlan Community Room. 🤎

Think of it as our little subscriber group chat.

I’ll pop in with questions, thoughts, things I’m working through, and conversations inspired by what we’re talking about in SoloPlan—and you can jump in whenever you want.

I want this to be a place where we can get to know each other, share what we’re figuring out, and have conversations that don’t necessarily need an entire essay.

So let’s start with a question:

What’s one thing you’re trying to figure out in your life right now?

I’ll share mine in the chat too. 🤎

See you in the Community Room,

Amanda

Join chat

How to get started

1. Get the Substack app by clicking this link or the button below. New chat threads won’t be sent sent via email, so turn on push notifications so you don’t miss conversation as it happens. You can also access chat on the web.

Get app

2. Open the app and tap the Chat icon. It looks like two bubbles in the bottom bar, and you’ll see a row for my chat inside.

3. That’s it! Jump into my thread to say hi, and if you have any issues, check out Substack’s FAQ.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the person I was at the beginning of the year.

The things she wanted. The plans she made. The person she thought she would be by now.

Back in January—and probably even December- I had a picture in my head of how things would go.

What I would accomplish.

What I would become better at.

And, honestly, who I thought I would be by now.

January has a way of making everything feel possible.

We make plans while we’re full of determination, and somewhere along the year, those plans start to feel like promises and expectations we made to ourselves.

Then July comes around, and suddenly I’m thinking:

I thought I would be further along.

I said I was going to do that, but that timeline has changed.

But my January self didn’t know everything July me knows now.

Life happened.

My priorities changed.

I changed my mind about some things.

And I learned things about myself that I couldn’t have known six months ago.

I’m not the same person I was in January, and I don’t think I’m supposed to be.

So instead of spending the rest of the year trying to catch up to the person I thought I would become, I’ve been asking myself:

Do I even still want everything I said I wanted?

Welcome to The SoloPlan Check-In

I’m great at writing goals for myself.

Lists? I can make plenty of them.

Thinking about the next thing I should work on? I can do that all day long.

But checking in with myself before making another life decision?

I’m still learning how to do that.

There always seems to be something else I could improve, accomplish, change, fix, or become.

And I’m realizing how exhausting it is to constantly look at myself like an unfinished task.

I don’t want my entire life to become one long self-improvement assignment.

That’s why I’m starting The SoloPlan Check-In.

Once a month, I’m going to sit down and take an honest look at where I am—what’s been good, what I’ve been forcing, what I actually want, and what I might be ready to leave behind. And I want you to check in with yourself alongside me.

What has actually been good?

I’m very good at noticing what I haven’t accomplished yet.

I think I may have a PhD in that area.

I can accomplish five things and immediately start thinking about the sixth. My brain immediately goes: Okay, what’s next?”

But when I really look back at this year, there are things I’m proud of.

One of the biggest is that I started writing again.

A couple of years ago, writing was such a big part of my life. I started my publishing company. I self-published a poetry book. I had ideas about everything I wanted to create next.

Then life happened.

And I stepped away for much longer than I expected.

Writing became one of those things I kept telling myself I would get back to.

Eventually.

And now, years later, I’m here.

Writing again.

Letting myself have ideas again.

Thinking about children’s books.

Building SoloPlan.

Even if I’m building slowly.

There’s something emotional about finding your way back to a part of yourself you thought you had lost.

I came back to something I love.

And that matters, even if I’m taking baby steps

What am I trying to force?

Once I decide something is in motion, I can get attached to proving to myself that I can make it happen.

Even after I’ve personally changed.

Even when it doesn’t work for me anymore.

So I ask myself:

Who am I trying to prove the plan to?

There are expectations I’ve placed on myself because of age, timing, other people, or simply the picture I once had in my head.

And I’m learning that I don’t have to keep carrying an old expectation just because I once believed in it.

The main question is:

What do I actually want now?

This is probably the question underneath everything else.

Because I’ve realized how easy it is to look at someone else’s lifestyle, career, aesthetic, success—or even the things they own—and start wondering whether I should want them too.

My July SoloPlan

I’m not making another giant goals list.

I’m so done with bullet points.

This is what feels important right now:

Something I want to keep doing:

Writing, even when I don’t know exactly where it’s going.

Something I’m ready to stop forcing:

Expectations that make me feel behind in my own life.

Something I want more of:

Creativity, peace, prosperity, and self-trust

Something I want less of:

Comparison and letting other people’s expectations pull me away from my own direction.

Something I’m doing simply because I want to:

Creating again without needing every idea to have inspiration. Just creating.

The plan is allowed to change

Thinking back to my January-me, I wasn’t wrong.

I was hopeful in my plans, but July-me knows better.

And December-me will probably look back at both of us and know even more.

That’s how life naturally happens.

I have to keep reminding myself:

You are allowed to change your plans and be confident in your plans because they're yours, not anybody else’s.

I still have goals and dreams.

I still have things I want to build.

I still have a vision for myself.

But I don’t want to spend the rest of this year racing against some imaginary version of myself who was supposed to have everything figured out already.

So before July ends, I’m asking myself one more question:

Does the life I’m building still feel like mine?

And if you’re doing this Check-In with me, maybe that’s the question to let it marinate with you too.

We don’t have to have all the answers. I surely don’t.

We can check in again next month.

I’ll meet you back here in August. 🤎

— Amanda

The SoloPlan Check-In is a monthly pause to ask ourselves what we actually want, what we’re ready to let go of, and whether the lives we’re building still feel like ours. If you’d like to check in with me again next month, you can subscribe to SoloPlan Diaries. 🤎

Growing up, I was taught to put others first. Be kind. Be generous. Be considerate.. Those are beautiful values, and I still believe in them.

But somewhere along the way, I started believing that taking care of myself meant I was taking something like time away from someone else. I genuinely thought that if I allocated time for myself, I lost time with the people I love or even relationships I could build. Extreme FOMO will surely kick in, and I have completely lost my sense of self.

Years ago, I thought that if I chose my goals, protected my time, or said no, I was being selfish.

Now, I see it differently.

Let me say you matter too.

Your dreams matter. Your peace matters. Your health matters. Your time matters. The life you want to build matters. Everything you want in life matters.

No one else is going to wake you up every day to live your dreams. No one else is responsible for becoming the person you’re capable of becoming. Focus and confidence are self-made.

That’s your responsibility.

That means there will be times when you have to choose yourself.

You might have to disappoint people.

You might have to set boundaries with people that are draining you.

You might have to spend less time explaining your decisions and more time living them.

That isn’t being selfish. It’s taking control of the one life you’ve been given.

I’ve realized there’s a difference between selfishness and self-respect.

Selfishness blocks other people.

Self- respect refuses to ignore yourself.

The question I ask isn’t, Is it okay to be selfish?

The question is, Have I been leaving myself out of my life?

Because a life orbiting around everyone else’s expectations will eventually leave you wondering where you went.

If you haven’t learned anything from this article, I hope you know that you matter.

Not more than anyone else.

But not less, either.

I’d love to listen to your thoughts. Where do you think the line is between choosing yourself and being selfish?

Love,

Soloplan Diaries

A new routine.

A new planner.

A new apartment.

A new version of myself.

I kept believing there was a future version of me who had everything figured out. If I could just become more disciplined, more confident, or more productive, maybe I’d finally stop feeling so restless.

But the more I chased that version of myself, the further away I felt from the person I already was.

Lately, I’ve been wondering if I misunderstood what it means to feel stuck.

Maybe getting unstuck isn’t about reinventing your life.

Maybe it’s about returning to yourself.

I used to think that would require one big shift in my life.

Instead, it happened quietly—through small moments of paying attention. The kind that reminded me what gave me energy, what felt true, and what made my life feel like my own again.

Looking back, those moments don’t seem very remarkable . But together, they slowly changed the way I experienced my own life.

Change your routine, not your identity

Routine has a way of becoming invisible.

We wake up, reach for the same apps, walk the same streets, and move through the day almost without noticing it.

Sometimes what feels like being stuck is really just familiarity.

I’ve found that changing something small is often enough to wake me up again.

• Taking a different route home.

• Reading before reaching for my phone.

• Working somewhere new for an afternoon.

• Trying a recipe I’ve never made.

None of those things changed my life overnight.

They simply reminded me that there was still something new to notice.

Pay attention to what’s draining you

Whenever I feel stuck, my instinct is to ask,

“What’s wrong with me?”

Now I try to ask a different question.

“What’s quietly draining me?”

Sometimes it’s comparison.

Sometimes it’s consuming more than I’m creating.

Sometimes it’s carrying expectations that were never mine to begin with.

The things that drain us rarely announce themselves.

They become part of the background until we forget what it feels like to have them.

Are you living in someone else’s shoes?

This is the question I come back to most often.

How much of what I want was actually chosen by me?

How many goals did I inherit from people I admire?

How many dreams came from watching someone else’s life unfold?

It’s difficult to feel at home in your own life while trying to walk in someone else’s shoes.

Remember what you actually like

One day I realized I could tell you what everyone else liked.

The books they recommended.

The routines they swore by.

The cafés everyone photographed.

But when I asked myself what I genuinely enjoyed, I had to stop and think.

So I started paying attention.

The books I couldn’t put down.

The music I replayed.

The places that made me smile.

The meals I looked forward to making

I don’t think we lose ourselves all at once.

I think we lose ourselves one ignored preference at a time.

Maybe we find ourselves the same way.

Rest without trying to earn it

For years, I treated rest like a reward.

Something I had to deserve.

Now I see it differently.

Rest isn’t the opposite of growth.

It’s often where clarity finally has room to find us.

Some answers don’t arrive because we worked harder.

Sometimes they arrive because we finally became quiet enough to hear ourselves.

Love yourself beyond the surface

I don’t think self-love begins with confidence.

I think it begins with compassion.

The kind you offer yourself when you’re uncertain.

When you’re disappointed.

When you’re still growing.

Real self-love isn’t convincing yourself you’re perfect.

It’s refusing to abandon yourself while you’re becoming.

Coming home to yourself

I still have days when I feel stuck.

But now I know that feeling isn’t asking me to become someone else.

It’s asking me to pay attention.

Maybe getting unstuck isn’t about reinventing your life.

Maybe it’s about coming home to yourself, one quiet decision at a time.

Love & Joy,

A 🤍

I opened my phone for what I thought would be a quick scroll.

Within minutes, I had convinced myself I was behind.

Someone had announced a promotion.

Another person had moved into a beautiful apartment.

Someone was launching a new business.

I looked up from my screen and suddenly my own life felt…smaller.

Nothing about my life had actually changed.

My apartment was the same.

My coffee was still warm.

My plans for the day hadn’t disappeared.

Only my attention had.

That’s when I realized comparison rarely arrives looking like jealousy.

It arrives disguised as questions.

“Shouldn’t I be further along by now?”

“Why not me?”

“Am I wasting my life?”

“I should be doing more.”

Those thoughts lasted only a few seconds.

But they quietly shaped the rest of my day.

So I decided to try a small experiment.

Not to stop comparing.

Just to notice it.

The Experiment

For one week, every time I caught myself comparing my life to someone else’s, I paused.

Instead of following the thought, I asked myself one question:

What does my life need from me today?

Not next year.

Not after my life looks more impressive.

Today.

The answers were surprisingly ordinary.

• Finish writing.

• Go for a walk.

• Call my family.

• Read before bed.

• Cook dinner.

• Water the plants.

• Rest.

The answer was never,

“Become someone else.”

The Turning Point

A few days into the experiment, something shifted.

I stopped arguing with those thoughts of feeling less.

Instead, I returned to my own life.

I finished the essay I’d been putting off.

I cleaned my apartment.

I went to the gym.

I made dinner without scrolling.

I sat outside a little longer than usual.

Nothing extraordinary happened.

I simply had my attention back.

And with it came something I hadn’t expected.

Peace.

I wasn’t behind.

I had simply stopped looking at my own life.

Four Things I’m Taking With Me

1. Feeling behind isn’t the same as being behind.

Comparison has a way of turning someone else’s chapter into your deadline.

But life has never been synchronized.

Some people find love early.

Some discover their purpose later.

Some move across the world.

Some build beautiful lives exactly where they are.

Your life isn’t behind. It’s simply your own

2. Attention creates momentum.

The less time I spent watching everyone else’s progress, the more progress I made in my own life.

Not because I became more disciplined.

Because I finally had the mental space to focus.

You can’t fully build your life while mentally living someone else’s.

3. Ordinary moments deserve your full attention.

I kept waiting for life to become more exciting.

Instead, I started noticing it.

Morning coffee.

Sunlight across my living room floor.

A finished paragraph.

A phone call with someone I love.

A quiet walk without rushing.

None of those moments were extraordinary.

Together, they became a life I didn’t want to miss.

The life we’re searching for is often hiding inside the one we’re rushing through.

4. You don’t have to earn today.

For years, I believed I’d enjoy life once I’d accomplished enough.

Once I’d caught up.

Once I’d become the version of myself I thought I needed to be.

This week reminded me that today doesn’t ask to be earned.

It asks to be lived.

Life doesn’t begin when you finally feel ahead.

What I’ll Keep

I know comparison will visit again.

I’ll probably hear those familiar thoughts.

“Why not me?”

“Shouldn’t I be further along?”

But now I know how I want to respond.

Not by working harder to catch up.

Not by trying to become someone else.

Simply by coming back.

Back to today’s work.

Back to today’s joy.

Back to the people sitting across from me.

Back to the life I’ve been building all along.

Because I don’t think comparison is really the problem.

I think forgetting to participate in your own life is.

Tiny Experiment

For the next seven days, every time you catch yourself thinking,

“I’m behind.”

Pause.

Take one deep breath.

Then ask yourself:

What does my life need from me today?

See where the answer leads you.

A Question for Your Diary

Where has comparison been quietly stealing your attention?

What might change if, for one week, you gave that attention back to your own life?

I haven’t arrived anywhere. But I’ve unlearned enough to know that’s okay.

Here’s what my 30s have quietly — and sometimes loudly, at 2 am, mid-spiral — been teaching me.

I unlearned that happiness lives somewhere else.

I used to think it was waiting — in the city, in the relationship, in the next milestone. Now I know it lives in pockets. Small ones. A good coffee. A book that doesn’t leave (unlike some people, no offense to anyone specific). Flowers I bought for myself. Things that are entirely mine and can’t be taken away.

A book can’t leave you. That’s nothing. That’s everything.

I unlearned that being alone means something is wrong.

Sometimes you’re just alone in the world. Not forever. Just for now. And I couldn’t have learned this any other way — the trust you build in yourself during the hard seasons is worth more than any resume line, any relationship, any milestone. Nobody hands that to you. You build it alone, in the quiet, when no one’s watching.

I unlearned that feelings are something to get through.

I used to rush past them. The hard ones, sure, but the good ones too — like if I sat in them too long I’d jinx it. Now I try to actually live in both. The grief and the joy. The uncertainty and the ease. Feeling things fully isn’t weakness. It’s kind of the whole point of being here.

I unlearned that selfishness is a bad word.

I used to think saying no made me a bad friend, a bad daughter, a bad whatever. Now I just say no. Respectfully. Intentionally. And the world hasn’t ended. Turns out you can protect your peace and still show up for people — you just stop showing up for everyone, all the time, at your own expense.

I unlearned that I needed anyone’s approval but my own.

Living for your own approval is both freeing and terrifying. It’s like dancing in the rain — it’s fun until you fall. But even when you fall, you’re still the one who chose to dance. That matters more than I used to think.

I unlearned that the process was something to rush.

I wanted the arrival. The proof. The thing I could point to and say — there, that’s what it was all for. But I’m learning the process is the thing. Mentally. Physically. Not glamorous. Not Instagram-able. Just the slow, repetitive act of actually building something that’s yours.

I unlearned that my timeline was behind.

It was never behind. It was just mine.

I’m still figuring it out. I think I will be for a long time.

But I’m glad I don’t have everything I thought I wanted by now.

Because somewhere in the not-yet, I found something better.

I found out what I’m actually made of.

And I think my partner — whoever he is, wherever he’s hiding — is out there doing the same.

We’ll meet in the middle when we’re ready.

Until then, I’ll keep building pockets of happiness.

Keep trusting myself through the rain.

Keep choosing the skills over the trophy.

What are you unlearning right now? Reply and tell me — I’ll be here, minding my business. Also — pay attention to yourself.

Not once. Multiple times. Rethinking every word, wondering if I’d said it differently, I wonder if the outcome would’ve changed. Wondering if I would’ve come off as a different person entirely — softer, easier, less like myself.

So many moments I have asked myself:

Was that too much?

Should I have kept that to myself?

Did I just make things weird?

That’s usually how it goes. I say something true, and then I spend the next hour quietly auditing myself for it — combing back through my own words like I’m looking for evidence of a crime.

And most of the time, I feel terrible, but I was just being honest.

I think I’ve spent a long time shrinking to avoid judgment. Not in a dramatic, obvious way — just small, constant edits. Softening an opinion before I say it. Holding back a reaction. Measuring myself against a version of me that never says the wrong thing, never overshares, never comes across as “too brutally honest.”

That version of me is perfect. She’s also completely made up.

I built her out of perfectionism — no real reference, just an idea I kept comparing myself to. And somewhere along the way I started treating her like the standard, instead of the fiction she actually is.

Here’s what I’ve realized, over the years, and not without a lot of overthinking to get here:

Shrinking never actually protected me.

It just gave me a mask to hold up, and holding it up is exhausting. I wasn’t avoiding judgment. I was just judging myself first, before anyone else got the chance to.

I was fooling myself into thinking smaller was safer. But being small takes up so much space compared to being big.

It wasn’t safer. It was just quieter. And underneath the quiet, I was stressed out — performing a version of calm, of easy, of put-together, that took more energy than just being honest ever would have.

I don’t think I fully believe in the mask anymore.

I still catch myself overthinking a conversation after I’ve said something too honest. I still feel that flicker of *was that too much.* I haven’t arrived anywhere. I’m not writing this from the other side of it.

But I’m starting to notice the cost of shrinking more clearly than I notice the risk of being myself.

And that’s new.

So maybe the question isn’t “how do I stop being too much.”

Maybe it’s—too much for who? Absolutely no one.

Because the version of me that says the honest thing, that takes up a little more space than feels comfortable, that doesn’t edit herself into something smaller and safer — she’s not the problem.

She’s just the one I keep putting behind a mask.

And I’m tired of holding it up.

What if I’m allowed to be myself — fully, unedited, occasionally too much — and it turns out that was never actually the risk I thought it was?

What if the mask was?

I genuinely believed it. That a new planner, a new book, a new skincare routine, the right course — one of them would finally be the thing that changed everything. And if you’d tried to convince me otherwise back then, I dare you; I would not have listened.

There’s nothing wrong with any of those things. Some of them have genuinely helped me.

But lately I’ve been wondering if we’ve started to confuse investing in ourselves with constantly acquiring something new.

Because some of the best investments I’ve made haven’t cost me anything.

They’ve looked like going to bed a little earlier.

Eating dinner without my phone.

Opening the journal I’d been saving for the “right time.”

Reading the books already on my shelf instead of buying another one because someone recommended it online.

None of those things required a purchase. They just required me to actually show up for what I already had.

I’m realizing that investing in yourself isn’t always about adding more.

Sometimes it’s about finally using what you already have.

• The mind that generates ideas at 11 pm when you’re supposed to be sleeping.

• The slow morning you keep rushing through.

• The topic you’ve gone down a three-hour rabbit hole on — twice — because something about it genuinely lights you up.

• The moment happening right now, while you’re half-present, half-planning the next one.

We underestimate how much growth comes from returning to what’s already ours. Not every season needs a new routine. Not everything needs to be upgraded again. Sometimes the next step isn’t another purchase — it’s being intentional with what’s already in your hands.

I’ve also noticed that when I stop chasing the next thing, I become more present with this one.

• I finish the book instead of buying three more.

• I use the planner instead of researching a better one.

• I write instead of reading another article about writing.

• I wear the clothes I already love instead of convincing myself I need a completely different wardrobe.

There’s a quiet calm that comes from trusting yourself enough to begin without needing anything else first.

A full life isn’t built one purchase at a time.

It’s built one intentional choice at a time.

So before I buy something that promises to change my life, I want to ask myself a different question:

How can I better use what I already have?

Because maybe the life I’m hoping to build isn’t waiting for the next recommendation.

Maybe it’s already here — waiting for my attention.

I’m staring at products that I thought I WAS going to need - thought about endlessly and buying them to sit on a shelf collecting dust and wasting money. I surely thought wrong!

After a week of planning and thinking that this new product will change my routine completely, buying said product, not opening its box until I need it, using it once or maybe twice, or three times, and putting it away in a bag, or my counter, or anywhere i missplaced.

In the end, the buzz wears off, and that is how we end up with millions of products that do the same thing. Yes, we may need that new blush or that new lip liner, but let’s take a step back- we have four brown lippies. (Also, don’t argue with me that they are different shades of brown.)

All of this ranting leads me to this.

Our fantasy vs reality.

My fantasy self has a 10-step skincare routine.

My fantasy self does an everything shower every day.

My fantasy self remembers to wipe her makeup off completely every night.

My fantasy self also has nowhere to be.

She has all the time in the world for a slow morning, a full skincare routine, and matching pajamas.

She never forgets a step.

She never gets tired.

She never says, “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

And honestly...she’s kind of unrealistic.

In reality, the real version of me:

Doesn’t have a 10-step skincare routine.

Takes an everything shower possibly on the weekends- ‘cause she works.

The real version of me is trying to make life fit into the hours she has.

Some nights, “good enough” is good enough.

Some mornings, I grab the same products because they work.

Not because they’re viral.

Not because they’re aesthetic.

Because they’re part of my real life.

Along the way, I think we have started to believe that having a new product means a new routine and new life. Like buying that new serum means I’ll suddenly become consistent. Buying the lip liner means I’ll finally wear lipstick every day. But products don’t create routine. We do. Maybe that’s what I’ve been buying all along- not the product itself, but the possibility of becoming someone else.

So before I buy anything else, I think I’m going to do something much simpler.

I’m going to look at everything I already own.

Not the version of my collection I imagine in my head—but the one that’s actually sitting on my counter.

The products that have become part of my life.

The ones I always reach for.

The ones I forgot I even had.

Maybe that’s the real beauty audit.

Not asking, “What should I buy next?”

But asking, “What has already earned a place in my routine?”

And I think what’s been sitting with me the most is how easy it is to confuse possibility with identity.

Like, I don’t just buy a product because I need it.

I buy it because I can imagine a version of me that uses it perfectly.

A version of me that is consistent, intentional, never forgets, never overbuys, never lets things sit untouched.

But that version of me isn’t missing.

She’s just not built through purchases.

She’s built through repetition.

Through actually using what I already have instead of constantly reaching for something new to “fix” the gap I feel in my routine.

And it’s almost funny how the cycle repeats itself.

Because every time I buy something new, there’s that short moment of excitement.

Like this time it’s going to be different.

This time it’s going to change everything.

This time I’m going to be the person who actually sticks to it.

And then real life happens.

And real life is not a perfectly curated shelf.

Real life is quick mornings, tired nights, and routines that only work if they’re simple enough to survive me not thinking about them too much.

And maybe that’s the shift I’m trying to make right now.

Not adding more.

Not upgrading everything.

Not trying to become someone through stuff I keep buying.

But actually noticing what already holds up in my real life without effort.

Because those are the things that are actually part of me.

Not the ones I keep trying to become.

And if I’m being honest, I don’t think I want a routine that looks impressive anymore to myself.

I think I want one that feels like mine.

Even if it’s small.

Even if it’s simple.

Even if it doesn’t match the fantasy version I keep imagining.

Because the real version of me is the only one I actually live as.

And maybe that’s who I’ve been trying to get back to this whole time.

Not the fantasy version.

Not the version that has every new launch sitting perfectly organized on a shelf.

Just me.

Using what I have.

Building routines that fit my actual life.

Finding joy in enough instead of constantly chasing what’s next.

Because maybe becoming isn’t about buying more.

Maybe it’s about finally paying attention to the life you’ve already started building.

The reason I started this publication is based on my life and understanding that we can be the main character of our own story. Realizing that we don’t have to live for others but live for ourselves. Being in that headspace has really transformed my life, where now I’m able to curate a life I want to live, not based on socials or anyone else’s judgment.

You should know (and I will remind you) that it is beautiful to find yourself in this world of social media; we have conditioned ourselves to be like one another, and being “outside of the box” is now the trend, but it should’ve even been the trend in the first place because we are already one of a kind.

The reason for it all:

This publication is about finding yourself and pouring love into ourselves.

It’s about slowing down and noticing our habits, patterns, and the small decisions that shape our identity. It’s also about asking honest questions- like why we buy what we buy. Is it for who we are today, or for a version of ourselves we’re hoping to become someday?

I am truly interested in learning about beauty psychology and internal growth- the relationship between how we see ourselves, how we spend our attention, and how we build our daily lives.

Because I don’t think it’s just about beauty products or routines.

I think it’s about intention.

What you’ll find here

Here, you’ll find essays on intentional living, identity, and the mind shifts that happen when you start paying attention to your life instead of rushing it.

You’ll also find essays about beauty- not as consumption, but as behavior and psychology.

Why I do what I do

I write because I’m learning to live more intentionally rather than promptly.

I write because perfectionism and overanalyzing will not hinder my growth.

I write because I think a lot of us are quietly trying to do the same thing- figuring out ourselves in real time, while still showing up for everyday life.

Thanks for reading

If you’re reading this part, I’m really glad you found your way to this space.

There’s no pressure to become anything here.

Just an invitation to notice your life more closely, to question gently, and to be easy on yourself that feels honest and true.

Welcome to Soloplan Diaries.

We’re just getting started.

That is why I decided to become the creative director of my life.

When you think about a creative director, what do they do?

Being a creative director is about designing or even coloring your life- think about what a creative director does: she creates a narrative and facilities- a fancy word for the “I’m boss of my life”. A creative director creates a vision and strategy, shapes project development, and builds on the foundation.

Most importantly, they focus on the bigger picture.

The vision.

The feeling.

The story.

What if we approached our lives the same way?

What if we stopped obsessing over keeping up with everyone else’s timeline?

What if we spent less time comparing and more time creating?

What if we became the creative directors of our own lives?

To me, being the Creative Director of Your Life means:

• Defining success for yourself.

• Choosing intentionality over urgency.

• Creating instead of competing.

• Trusting your own timeline.

• Making room for joy.

• Allowing yourself to evolve.

• Building a life that reflects your values.

It means understanding that your life is not a productivity challenge. It is a creative project. One that will change and grow as you do. One that won’t always go according to plan. One that doesn’t need to be rushed.

The older I get, the more I realize that the best parts of life aren’t things you can schedule.

You can’t schedule:

• Meaningful friendships.

• Unanticipated opportunities.

• Self-improvement.

• Inspiration.

• Joy.

You can only make space for them. And maybe that’s the real work. Not controlling every chapter. Not racing to the finish line. Not treating your life as a never-ending to-do list.But forming a life that feels aligned, intentional, and true to who you are.

These days, whenever I feel myself slipping back into a sense of urgency, I remind myself of something simple: I am not behind. I don’t need to accomplish everything this year. I don’t need to have every answer. My job isn’t to control every detail of the story.