To heal the ache, not to devastate.

A fire to protect, a fire once unruly.

Now contained and disciplined, a beacon’s glow.

My heart burns,

Scolded by a fiery exterior.

Bathed in light for all to see.

A guiding flare of warmth and light.

I burn, I glow, I shine.

Do you see?

My heart burns,

To breathe for others,

To engulf the pain,

My heart dreams,

Friends, strangers, foes, blood,

Do you see?

A fiery exterior,

Walls built and a fire contained,

A home crafted.

Beating dreams for us,

Crackles and thums.

Kinetic core.

For all to grow, to learn, and to emerge.

For those unknowing of a wall’s warmth.

For those who cried the light away.

For those who see no dreams.

My heart burns.

Do you see?

Rash decisions, exposed and untamed emotions, deep in the soul and bones obsession, and the pining— oh, the beautiful art of yearning.

Its beauty and pain, all adored, wanted, and dreamt of.

But you know what’s funny?

That behind all that love lurking in its shadows is the unexplored, frightened, and feared counterpart, grief.

When you strip both down to the actions people take, they mirror each other oh so well. How similar they are.

A declaration, a run, letters, regrets, desires, tears, and cheers.

The dramatic depths we plummet to when we feel out of control, when we can’t just help but feel.

Yet love is so adored and accepted, even with its oh-so-obvious and consuming wrongdoers.

We look into the mirror and see grief following along, and the fear and judgment we expose through eyebrows alone is palpable.

Crinkled and shriveled into its arrow down, signaling right to the eyes that dare not stare back.

The words of love are crashing melodies right to our ears, and we sing right along, hoping one day it will be our own song. Until that glorious day, we waste away by blasting the tune of another, wanting to hear more.

Mellow thrums and tunes eventually try to hum along; we hear our friends, family, and those brave, or desperate, enough to be out and about, humming their sad song.

Wistful sounds wishing away; someone to listen long enough to sing back the words they needed all along.

Sad songs can only go on for so long when shared among many.

Have you ever been in a crowd, all singing the sorrow of another whose heart they do not know?

Heartache shared, and grief understood. The air is not tight or cold, but instead light and restful.

Someone will always know how to change the mood and find the right tune. That’s what community really is, no?

If hushed and ignored, and the lyrics are never heard, then how can grief move on?

The Courage to Be Disliked is one of those books that people either love and appreciate or sincerely hate with a fiery passion that gets the fingers zooming. Written by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga and grounded in Alfred Adler's psychology, the book has amassed a cult following, especially among those grappling with questions of identity, purpose, and self-worth.

And yet, despite its bestseller status, I believe it needs a new name.

Not because the title is bad. It's bold, provocative, and speaks to the book’s core message. Spoiler alert: The core message was that you don't need universal approval; you can live the life you want to live.

But in today’s social and political climate, especially amid conversations around mental health, trauma, and masculinity, the name doesn’t do the book justice. It invites controversy before curiosity, and that’s a disservice to what the book actually offers.

In an era where young men are increasingly vocal about loneliness, disconnection, and lack of purpose, The Courage to Be Disliked can become a guidebook for rethinking life’s meaning.

The book explores how our past does not define us, how we can break free from the need for validation, and how our inferiority complexes can crush or propel us. These ideas resonate deeply at a time when the "male loneliness epidemic" is dominating headlines.

Yet, many critics argue the book feels out of touch with real-world hardship. Some say it reads like a pipe dream, asking us to change our perception while ignoring systemic and structural realities. Others take issue with its treatment of trauma, feeling it shifts blame onto the victim. And you know what? I get that.

But this isn’t self-help fluff.

It’s a theory: Adlerian psychology. A framework for how we can live, not a perfect description of how we do.

It’s not about ignoring trauma but asking: how can we move forward without being trapped by it? That’s a deeply uncomfortable question. But maybe that’s the point…

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We don’t make room for discomfort anymore.

As readers, we’re quick to rate one-star reviews if something doesn’t align 100% with our worldview. We’re allergic to nuance.

And yet, what Adler teaches, especially his take on reward, punishment, and moral responsibility, could not be more relevant today.

He warns that when we raise people using only external motivators like punishment or praise, we create individuals who act without an internal moral compass.

Just scroll through your feed. You’ll see this play out in digital behaviour, for example, trolling, clout-chasing, and performative activism. Adler’s theory explains this with precision.

“We do not walk in order to compete with someone.”
“The one who boasts does so only out of a feeling of inferiority.”

What we can take away from this book is the invitation to reflect on how we’re showing up in the world.

So yes, the book is flawed in parts. It’s not for everyone. It shouldn’t be applied blindly to every aspect of life.

But what it does offer is clarity, empowerment, and a push to live intentionally, which is sorely needed right now.

And maybe that’s why the title should evolve. Not to soften the message, but to make space for the possibility that a book can challenge us and still be good.

That we don’t have to love or hate something entirely. It's okay to sit in the grey area, taking what helps and leaving what doesn’t.

We need more messages like that.
We need more books like this.

What would you rename it if you’ve read the book, or even just this post?
Drop your thoughts in the comments. I’d love to hear your ideas! :)

My ideas below:

1. The Fight of Your Life

2. Own Your Mind

3. Build Yourself - Not Your Image

4. How to Be Alone

5. Rewriting Your Story

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With an honest heart, I must admit that I am filled with self-judgment.

I am consumed by my ridiculed thoughts,

“I’m being lazy,” not allowing myself to believe “I am resting.”

“I am too tired,” not “I am exhausted from a filled week”.

“I hate how grumpy I am right now,” not “I had an emotionally challenging situation.”

I once believed and echoed to anyone who would listen, mostly myself, that my mind was filled with madness. Especially around the ages of 18- 21. I truly believed I was mad.

I look back, and I understand that those thoughts were because I was scared. I didn’t know who I was.

During those years, I would reflect on high school and feel disgusted. About how much effort I made to try to be cool, how I was partying and ignoring academics, how I believed I was dumb and that was it, and how sad and lonely I truly felt. So my 18- to 21-year-old self, who was succeeding in college, but still partying and still so stressed about the future, would be up at all hours of the night.

But the belief of madness didn’t come from those thoughts. I mean, who didn’t hate who they were in high school and stress about the future?

No, no, the thoughts of lunacy stemmed from the thoughts that came after midnight when I was stuck on Leonardo da Vinci. When I couldn’t let go of the silliness of the Christianity boom during the Dark Ages and how that isn’t talked about enough today. Craving the knowledge of what part of the brain does what.

It was when I would get zero sleep, then went about my day as the hard-working party girl with too many friends, and pretend that those thoughts didn’t happen at all.

When I was alone with my thoughts, surrounded by darkness, they were never thoughts about my own life; struggles, issues, successes, and all.

The only reasonable explanation is madness!

Then, 22 came around, and I exposed what this madness truly was! I discovered it and embraced it for what it really was.

Literally just curiosity.

No, seriously, I was just becoming a curious person, and it feels silly to realize that’s what it was, but it’s because my younger self truly believed she was unintelligent, and I never allowed myself to celebrate all of my success, academically speaking, in college while having a job, volunteering, personal life agendas, and having an extremely fun social life.

So, I embraced that corner of my mind and declared it home. I sat myself down and got cozy.

That corner became my nook, my safe haven, and it allowed for self-love to float in. To float and fog my mind in a warm, comfortable embrace that drove me down a passion rabbit hole.

With this, I traveled far and wide in our big, beautiful world, pursuing this newfound love. I was consumed with who I was, who I was becoming, what I was learning, and letting anyone with ears know about self-help, finding love for yourself, and being selfish.

My mind felt like home for the first time in my life.

A new light eventually swept its way through the windows of my home and crept its way into my cushy corner.

Slowly, the fog began to dissipate.

My eyes then shot wide, unstoppable blinking. Stilled with shock at the unkempt. Staring at all that was untouched, cobwebbed, and dusty parts of my home.

The parts of who I was that I did not let myself get to know, the already furnished parts that became hidden memories.

I let myself take hold of my most selfish desires and grounded myself in self-assurance that this is what passion felt like.

So when the sunlight came, I cursed at it. Blamed it for causing the fog to leave and saying it’s what made me lose my passion.

I was too scared to take a foot in what I already created, who I was, all of me. It wasn’t until months later of staring into the strange home that I took my first steps into rediscovery.

That is when I realized my faults, my lack of accountability, my true shame. How passion was so lustful and how my corner kept me dead still.

We cannot truly believe we are just one part of ourselves.

We cannot stay in one tiny part of our home, no matter how cushioned.

We cannot declare to the guests that enter, who want the full tour, that this is all there is.

We are so much more, and how wonderful to be a home with that much more!

Isn’t that the main reason why we ought to dream, why we let passion settle in comfortably, to one day have a beautiful and unique home of our own?

You see red and black.

I treasure you.

Enraged from the depths of me.

Even in death I’d unearth what’s underneath.

Gold and white, however dimmed.

You wish you knew what I know.

You wish you knew subterranean solitude.

Concealed and numb.

I’d sail the seas.

Clamber to the ice.

I’d unearth all the worms one could see.

Too bad.

“‘How can I be happy knowing that everything falls apart?”

We can all see Will Smith’s name and instantly hear the reverberation:

Followed by the oh-so-satisfying slap from the 2022 Oscars.

It was a memorable moment in the world of culture, not just because of Will’s big A-list Hollywood name, but also because of the confusion following the echo of that slap.

What just happened? Was it staged? Why does it feel so tense and awkward if it was staged? This is confusing.

But did you know that Will also asked the question,

This was much later, of course.

Using you imagine here, what would an individual do after his crashout got broadcast to the world but then also made into a viral vocal stim for not only months, but years after?

what would you do?

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He did what I would also probably do:

hop on a plane and find some damn happiness again.

Will, like any normal-minded celebrity, shares his reflection on happiness in his journey to Bhutan in his National Geographic show Pole to Pole.

Now it might be easy right now for You to react with annoyance, by rolling your eyes, sighing, huffing, and wanting to dismiss me.

You could be asking, why would anyone still care to hear about Will Smith’s opinion?

I hear you, and I understand. It is frustrating. It is hard to feel sympathy for people we perceive as having it all because of their wealth. Celebrities are equally glamorized and diminished for who they are and what they become.

It is challenging to take a step back and not react, but simply hear me out for a second and chime in.

You can dislike or feel nothing at all about Will, but nonetheless, what he provides in episode 4 of Pole to Pole is helpful for us all.

This is an episode on finding happiness when we believe the world is falling apart, when we believe our lives are not put together.

Whether you like it or not, I bet many, if not all of us, can relate to Will’s Oscar’s explosion.

What do we do when we are a stressball waiting to explode?

In our Online World, we are seeing horrific events from all across the globe, hateful speech at every scroll, people bleeding, dying, being murdered, and we are seeing online bullying and harassment at an immeasurable scale.

In our Real World, we are unkind, ignore each other, politically distancing ourselves, fighting for our rights, protesting, working nonstop, not being able to make enough money to live, watching other people have too much. We are exhausted already, right? Yet we still need to find time to worry about our body image, our health, and the time to cook. The cherry on top? We are supposed to have damn hobbies too. Oh, and also, don’t forget to reach for success and dream!

Admit it, we are Will Smith and the World is Chris Rock, and oh my, that walk-up is a run, and that slap is an absolute knockout.

But okay, back to the important calming stuff!

During his reflection on the show, he admits he had a relentless focus on outward perfection, reaching the pinnacle of success through fame and money. He knows exactly who the most outward and present version of himself is.

But there in the Himalayas, he was looking for answers on the inward, unknown version. During his exposure to a place and culture that was quite literally up in the air to him, he reveals a truth that is heart-clenchingly true for us all.

After that night, his slap that was publicized to around 17 million people live, and to the world after, he found immediate relief. He said,

The image of Will Smith was finally dead

It’s a lesson we can all learn.

Allowing this idea of perfection, this ego-driven performer in us and in our user-selves to die.

And I really wanted to take this subsection out of my book and post it here on Substack, not because of Will Smith or his own journey to happiness. Not for a cheesy lesson from a celebrity you had to hear because they make their emotions, feelings, and thoughts very known, but because the episode itself highlights a love we can all sit back and relax and watch.

It shows the people in Bhutan who shared their stories and their hearts.

The Laya people, who are believed to be some of the happiest people on this planet because they live in togetherness. Will and Nat Geo take us into their lifestyle. They share food, revel in dance, and are nothing but kind and warm to each other.

You might be thinking that this is nothing new; it sounds like a repeat of any story about someone traveling somewhere foreign. But many of us are still users just yapping away, bickering and stressed. Closing the doors to exploration and open-mindedness, making any and all excuses to cut off not only travel, but people.

When is the last time you danced? When did you last make conversation with someone who doesn’t speak the same language as you? When did you cook dinner for someone else? When did you last look inward to the person you are afraid to acknowledge? When did you last let yourself be happy with strangers?

Will begins to end the episode by sharing the question the people in Laya ask:

not ‘How can I be happy?’ but ‘How can we be happy?’

It is so simple, yet are there enough of us asking this?

I know we are balancing both worlds right now, and the struggles of our lives, and both of our identities. We are managing the stress of our Real World and our Online one. Perhaps this is a similar issue to the one Will raised in his final question: avoiding the question of "not I, but we."

So I leave You with a question,

How can we be happy in our Online World?

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Is it because we mirror each other in some meaningful way?

I sometimes believe that there are parts of us that we want to see but don’t allow ourselves to.

So we fall in love with someone who is entirely different yet so utterly the same.

We love them for who they are, but also because we see an etching of ourselves. Fascinated by something so true to their character that it is nothing short of admiration. We know that even a sliver of ourselves also lies in that same way of being.

How fast and how deeply I came to not only admire but respect them as a soul on this planet. How lucky I am to have been so persistent in my endeavor to place them into my life.

Yet I also can’t help but ask why?

Why did I try so hard?

It felt like an out-of-body pull. At times, it felt like an obsession, but that is very unlike me. In fact, I pride myself on not being someone who torments themselves with fixations.

My thoughts started to speak a different language, translating consumption. The way they navigated the world, how they reflected upon hearing a question, the way their faces changed, the way their eyes said everything.

I cannot help but think, how lucky am I?

I draw back, wondering if I am similar?

Did the universe allow us to meet because we are? Or am I shameless in my resilience with the chase of this friendship because I needed to see the parts of them I adore for myself?

Are all friendships then coated in some selfishness? Or does the universe transpire? Similar to the red string theory. Is it both? I don’t want to know only my own ego in a friend; that is not what I mean to transpire.

Merely a moth to a lantern. A bee to honey. Like calls to like.

I suppose it does not matter. Whether it is the universe or the psyche, it is always an embodiment of love.

There is no need to make a complexity out of something so wonderful that it feels like a constant unboxing and unraveling of the wrapped bow.

That’s how I would describe being friends with them— the thrill of unboxing a gift with no idea what lies inside.

You cannot help but grin ear to ear, laugh, or sometimes even hold back a sigh. A sigh, however, that is followed by a tightening of the chest because you have such an appreciation for that person.

That’s how you know it is love.

A gift that keeps on giving in all forms. Not easy, but true and all things special.

How fast and how deeply I came to not only admire but respect them as a soul on this planet.

How lucky I am to have been so persistent in my endeavor to place them into my life.

How I wish they still thought of me.

But a gift, unwrapped and no matter how old, is still what it once was, a keepsake of love.

Now reread while tuning into this song, then finish reading. Let me know your thoughts from before and after the music.

Did the music change the article for you?

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May your ashes replenish the ground for new growth.

Always,

your friend

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I started last year while getting my master’s. My degree is in Digital Media Sociology, and I am writing a book about Media Literacy on Cancel Culture. They go hand in hand, you see?

And you know what?

I have some super cool ideas. Framing this idea of User You vs. You. I am about halfway, but have been in a rut since moving back to the United States. A rut that has been over 7 months.

I hear they call this writer’s block…

And I want to beat myself up about it, I mean, I do already (mentally)! All the time, it is at the back of my mind, screaming that I am not doing what I told everyone and their mother I am doing.

Due to being a yapper and a half, I can’t not do it now! It would only be so embarrassing at this point… but also I do believe it’s because I don’t want to give up.

However, I just can’t get myself to write on the topic. This is the writer’s block. And if this were a disease, consider me wiped out.

I always put it down to how many other activities I am doing. I have a 9-5 that takes my soul some (most [every]) days; I have the best friend group who always has plans and birthdays; and I am doing my other hobbies: cooking, baking, and exercising. I hike too much! God forbid a girl touches some grass.

I am also spending way too much time trying to gain a following on Substack or TikTok live.

I try to say my life feels too full, and what a blessing it is. To be dreaming and living. I am filled with gratitude. Don’t make that mistake about my persona, please.

Back to being my own bully, I'm glad I am, but some days it sucks.

I dream too much, and I know it. It equally keeps me going, but I also let it get in the way too often. I am addicted to the dreams in my thoughts.

Truthfully, I was going to go into a giant rant about dreaming too much and the issues with manifesting; these thoughts have been bubbling up so often, so I wanted to write them out for some help. Some validation, perhaps.

It’s hard not to seek something on social media. Hard not to also compare from time to time.

I have been spending so much time on Substack, reading others’ work. Admiring the pace at which they are growing and how often they write. How inspired they are, knowing I felt that.

How I write so many notes now and short pieces to keep the algorithm going.

But as I write, and coming back to this version of me who is positive and filled with self-love, I am realizing something.

I read and write poetry now. Feeling confident now to do so because of this platform. I read so many of your short stories and articles on here on subjects I have never read before.

I write poetry! I love and read fiction now.

I write and express my feelings openly,

like a true writer.

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What do you write?

Don’t get me wrong, I am still going to sit with my thoughts, mad that I am not as motivated or inspired. Disappointed that I am not working on my book.

But it feels so good to also be positive again, to give my mind a self-hug.

To realize that I am still growing as a writer, as a person, by giving my time to this app. Letting the community here unfold. Maybe you guys will be the first to read my book, who knows?

Imagination is everything. And I hope I’m telling it to the right people right now.

I am trying to balance being kind and being a villager, both online and in the real world.

All this to say I have big dreams. I am delusional, and I believe in myself. I will work hard.

I am grateful for my life and for what I have.

I know many, if not all of us on here, are big dreamers too. So let’s not spend our days only wishing. We know the truth of our realities, but we also know the secret to success.

If you are like me, an ambitious, too-hard-on-yourself person who has a blessed, filled life but still wants to dream for yourself and for others, show up.

Show up, dream, fail, and allow destiny to entangle us in hope.

We are all pursuing something so meaningful on here.

Allowing and finding a version of ourselves.

Love and Cheers,

McKy

That sucks, sorry.

I feel sorry for them.

Awe, sorry.

Yikes, sorry.

I’m so sorry that happened.

Sorry, Sorry, Sorry!

It is the word murmured, spit, and rolled off our tongues without conscious thought.

The words ‘I’m sorry,’ although supposedly coming from endearment, frequently trouble me. Similar to most words in the English language, the word has formed a relationship with laziness.

We have a very basic, average human sense of knowing when something is wrong. When we say things we shouldn't, when we act out of character, or when those around us do. We can judge others' facial expressions and body language, and we have come to recognize typical behavioral patterns.

The gift of humankind, knowing when we socially have f*cked up.

You know when you make a not-so-funny joke to a friend, and their face immediately scorns or frowns? The furrow of their eyebrows, and your heart sinks at the realization.

Or in the classroom, the class clown sits quietly by themselves, not speaking. Maybe you notice on the train after work that the person sitting in front of you has their face in their hands, elbows to their knees, and you can hear their deep sighs; you know they had a shit day.

Whether a loved one or a stranger, we often take the initiative and ask what’s wrong.

Our keen senses turn us into loving, brave soldiers answering the beckoning calls of distress.

With our heads held high and our chests puffed forward, we pull out our shiny silver swords and ask the sorrowed individual,

“Hey, are you okay?”

And finally, you can think, We did it; we showed empathy, dammit.

They let out their issues, begin to release what’s bothering them, and start to feel a sense of consolation as they finally engage in a conversation that hopefully provides comfort or understanding.

They are speaking from within, and there you are.

Trailing off, feeling profoundly empowered from the action you took for that person. You are polishing that shiny, untarnished sword and admiring your perceptive abilities.

Finally, they are done speaking,

“Awe yeah damn, that sucks, I’m sorry.”

All of us have been both points of view, courageous knights and sorrowful individuals.

Sometimes, in this game of life, when you're the one knocked down and can’t help but reveal your emotions publicly, that foolish knight's act really falls flat.

And when I am the saddened individual who hears the effortless ‘I’m sorry, dude,’ I am always left speechless. My heart plummets, and my throat closes; one eyebrow furrows in regret, and the other in annoyance.

I am left unheard, or with the feeling that is best represented by an “Okay???”

Wondering why the hell they just asked how I was doing, especially if they were just going to say that they’re sorry and nothing else.

Taking responsibility to try to comfort someone is a brave act. But it should not be done for an ego boost. Similar to the belief in karma, you cannot intend to do good just to feel better about yourself.

Taking the leap and asking about another’s well-being, only to listen halfheartedly or offer the lazy “I’m sorry” response, does not help them; it only feeds your own ego.

I understand that we all want to be mindful of courageous knights coming to the rescue when a fellow is down, but you must consider the actual effort you are willing to put in.

When you feel the words spill out of your mouth, ask yourself why.

Why are you sorry?

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Do you pity them? Are you actually feeling their pain? Do you understand and feel it yourself, so it’s surfacing emotions? Are you uncomfortable? Do you just not know what to say at the moment? Shocked, perhaps? Do you want the conversation to end? Do you think what they are saying is wrong? Or do you not actually care?

Do we wonder why the words ‘I’m sorry’ play such a huge role in our dialect when it is often not how we feel?

The conditioning in our society has left us unable to focus on a single issue or person for 30 seconds.

More often than not, ‘I’m sorry’ is an easy escape. Eventually, the conversation we didn’t actually want to have is over, and we can go on about our own issues, our own thoughts, and our own day; even better, our batteries are now full with the boost of the ego we just received from showcasing the most basic form of caring, giving us a jump-start energy boost to worry about ourselves.

True heroes, we have become with easy access to the words ‘I’m sorry.’ True heroes (and actors) we are, able to whip out the words for almost any situation we need to be in. We don’t need any of the Marvel squad because we have the two ultimate power words that seem to solve every issue known to man!

Bump into someone? I’m sorry.

You’re so considerate!

Being a bully and getting caught or called out? Sorry, I didn’t mean it.

Man, I mean, now they must really know you didn’t actually believe what you said!

Cheat but not mean it? Sorry, it won’t happen again.

Totally a one-time thing. Of course, it won’t!

Did someone just share something unfathomable with you? Awe, sorry.

Well, now they must feel alleviated, nice!

This feels like a giant rant, and I guess it kind of is, but the words read like an out-of-touch opt-out from the one thing we all have in common:

feeling.

Having complex emotions that change within seconds, and sometimes not even understanding what’s going on inside our minds and bodies.

In some cases, it’s necessary; I’m not saying we shouldn’t ever say sorry; sometimes, it’s the only appropriate response we can give. However, I believe we can be and do better by connecting with friends, family, and even strangers, taking the initiative to have more to say.

‘I’m sorry’ is causing a disconnect between us, a quick shutdown to the possibility of learning from each other and strengthening the emotions we all have inside us.

So why only say,

'I'm sorry?’

To have traveled so many ways, our own to feet, car, train, plane, boat, and how many more?

It’s silly to have seen beauty.

To hear, see, walk, and breathe.

Every corner touched by so much more.

Green grass, thumbs, leaves. Blue waters, grime and dirt, bugs and all.

It’s silly to have seen beauty.

It’s silly to have seen beauty.

All to be at your own demise.

It’s silly to have seen beauty.

For expandable unallocated hours of quantitative achievement.

It’s silly to have seen beauty.

To know only grey division, blindingly dimmed lights, and inconsequential chatters.

It’s silly to have seen beauty.

It’s silly to have seen beauty.

The whispers of the wind, tunes and rhythm to no end, colors unstoppable, and gifted flavors.

All to succumb in the depths of man-made success pits

Only to remember in far-off desires the utmost simplistic forms of what life and love are.

It’s silly to have seen beauty.

How silly am I to dream?

I will admit I let myself get lost.

I became unlike myself, consumed by someone else. Someone I knew from the very beginning did not deserve my whole heart. I knew, and yet I convinced myself they needed love.

Maybe they did, who knows? Maybe it was me who needed the love (it was). I will not know, though.

I have said goodbye before, but today is different. Today, I step back into myself. Slowing down and rediscovering the question of who I am, stepping back into the question we all ask too often,

“Who am I?”

At my center, I am filled with joy and care. Those are the values that I anchor to my identity.

I am motivated. I know what I want and do not falter in the face of what gets in my way. Not because I am knocking down, pushing through, or setting people aside to do so, but the opposite. I am resilient in my motives by the deeply rooted support of my values.

I live to find joy, and I breathe to care.

I like control, even though I sometimes let myself lose it. My mind toggles between the desire for it and the absolute submission of letting go.

But when it comes to the restless nights, when all alone, fighting between thoughts and yearnings, it snaps. My eyes open to the ceiling, and the exhale comes. The mind’s battle to remind oneself,

I am infinite because I know I am nothing. I am special because I am not.

I am someone who sees my way back every time, allowing myself to get lost in moments, people, and memories because that is what makes me whole. I enjoy the rediscovery of myself. I understand that to get lost is to live.

I know for a fact that while writing this, you, the reader, have all had similar thoughts. Perhaps it is our writers, readers, and deep thinkers’ gift and curse. Tell me who do you come back to? What do you realize about yourself when you need it?

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I'm stepping back into myself, yes. With a lesson strengthened in my heart,

The motions being made are not without the understanding that each person I let in, each moment I allow myself to capture, changes who I am.

So we can step back in, but we are also then stepping forward.

Grasping the measurement even when it is as minuscule as a millimeter. Growth still happens even when it comes from people who made us believe that it was all a decline.

We let a negative feedback loop of our deepest fears seep in when it comes to being lost:

Unable, not knowing, taken, gone, destroyed, and defeated.

It took a great deal of learning and training to allow myself to know that being unable, not knowing, losing control, and destroying who I am, embedding the philosophy of feeling defeated, is uncovering.

It is the constant acceptance and forgiveness.

To believe in myself in each of these periods where I know I am unanchored. Knowing I will find myself and a new version, and taking the time to understand the how and why.

Then, taking it all in and feeling what I need so my joy and care can settle again. Ultimately, to foster the mindset of:

One step back launches us two steps forward.

Using my learnings from the vast open waters.

I don’t say this solely from a mending heart. How silly and profound that would really be. I know plenty of pain; the seeds from which grow different flowers, into a garden of abundance.

I am constantly messing up, distracted, and so unbelievably emotional. I lose myself again and again. I get frustrated each time I do. I know all that I know, and I still feel deeply while knowing.

I do allow each seed to grow, though. However, I always know when to anchor again. I step back, and writing this now is me doing so. Acknowledging the process. I am new, with a seed from a place I had not known for a flower that I will soon appreciate.

Uncovering a new flower is a gift, and to have a full garden, you must tend to what exists. Back to watering, weeding, and trimming:

Your garden will only grow abundant when you tend to what you don’t yet know.

Allow a positive feedback loop of our deepest trusts to rise when it comes to being found:

Capable, aware, guided, present, renewed, and victorious.

I want a long, happy life.

But…

I want to be able to look out far beyond what the eye can see and think to myself,

I can rest now, now that I know I didn’t just live for myself.

I want to sit in confidence that I lived, worked, and hoped for those dearest to my heart

and for the strangers I adore in passing.

I know this world is a loop of sadness,

swirls that I cannot put into words.

An infinity of heartbreaking, gut-wrenching tragedy,

and with souls that abandon all hope.

But I want people to see beyond the twine of known,

and see what is too often forgotten.

I want us to know the sun shining and the ocean's glimmer.

The sound the dancing grass and leaves relay when the wind whispers through.

I want to live a long life, I do.

I want a long, happy life.

But…

I want to see those who are reaching out a hand,

those who desire to fall back in love with life.

I want to understand.

I want to be someone who makes the world feel seen.

I am living a happy, long life.

And I love.

I love. I love. I love.

But I sit here and can’t help but think,

Do you?

We cannot let go, and we cannot look away from the fire, and I understand completely as to why. But what I don’t understand is why we cannot also focus on the change?

Why, once the ashes have been consumed and used, where the flowers now lie, do we not highlight the beauty of what is?

Why do we not flourish in it and make do to continuously shift and focus on what can still grow?

Protect and replenish.

Instead, we take a quick glance and move on to the ceaseless emodiments of disaster.

Those who arson our world for all to see because they take glory in the eyes that cannot stray.

A nuanced issue. A world of privilege to ignore fires and screams that follow.

But that is not what I intend.

There are enough of us to douse any of the flames.

My concern is the lack of eyes, the refusal to sit and submit to the beauty that also exists, and the refusal to put energy into what needs aid in growing.

The reality of living lighter, happier lives is learning that ignorance isn’t bliss; instead, it hides in our pride.

In this case, the ignorance is that we are all assholes.

We act more and more monstrously over time: cruel, unforgiving, and entitled. I mean sincerely, all of us, in some capacity, have this darkness inside that is becoming habitual. If you aren’t aware of your monster, you should be.

This version of yourself occupies a space in the mind. This consumption of the mind is so intense that it alters behavior and projects. We all see, or at least should, the monster inside us.

I’m not talking about the people whose entirety of their personality is openly monstrous: the racists, homophobes, transphobes, and overall dogmatic individuals who refuse to be anything but a monster. They are merely assholes who have gone too far down the rabbit hole of ignorance.

No, we won’t even go there.

I’m referring to the everyday people who have moments of monstrous behavior.

The man in the restaurant making a ruckus over a mistake, the overwhelmed mom screaming at the customer service operator over the phone with her other abundant responsibilities nagging at her side, the person sobbing to the person next to them as you pass by on the street, or the strangers on the internet in the comment section (of quite literally any post).

One viral post on any social media platform is a nasty place filled with vulgar and unnecessary hate (and no, you aren’t helping any situation by adding your comment; you are unmistakably participating in online bullying).

Or maybe your monster is so cruel that you are unaware of those around you. You don’t care to see how everyone around you is acting. Your monster is so powerful that it takes every opportunity to turn your thoughts against you; you are in a constant trance. You might ask yourself now, are you a monster to yourself?

With the growing number of people on the planet, such erratic behavior is more apparent in our day-to-day lives. We agree that it makes sense: the more people, the more mayhem.

With the increased frequency of out-of-pocket behaviors from everyday folk, it has evolved into a regular part of our days. And the more we see other people act out, which we have convinced ourselves is acting honestly to our so-called true selves, the more we allow ourselves an excuse to do the same.

In the restaurant scenario, you saw him complain; the manager brought him out, and he had his meal taken off the bill. I mean, you have bad days, too, and don’t ever get a free meal because you keep quiet, but now this man gets a free meal for being an asshole? So subconsciously, the next time you have a rough day and someone messes up, you cause a similar scene. You wanted a free meal because you had a bad day, and other people do it, so why not?

But maybe you didn’t notice the waiter was absent for ten minutes because they were so distraught by the situation. They were so busy in their shift, in the weeds, and they made a mistake on that man’s meal. They are now more overwhelmed, taking time in the bathroom to look in the mirror and convince themselves they can finish the shift. Figuring out how to explain what happened to the manager. Because of the man yelling over a mistake.

Suddenly, you become the individual yelling over a mistake. You, at the moment, don’t care about other individuals because you feel entitled because of your bad day.

But this isn’t about how to stop the man, the mom, or the person from acting as they are in the moment.

This is about You because we all have moments where our monsters shed light, and it is our responsibility not to take it out on others.

You don’t deserve a free meal because you had a bad day, and you shouldn’t aim to be that person.

Although no one is perfect, there will be, or there have been, times when you unleash your monster on someone else. We sometimes get caught up in moments, and someone happens to be there. But now, in a new world filled with billions of people, we are learning not to do that. If you have the intent of getting a free meal, or you want to have a monster moment because you believe you are entitled to something or someone, at that point, you’re an asshole.

Why not think about being so kind to the server that they are beyond thankful and give you a discount? Maybe you don’t get the whole meal off like the man, but instead, you get a discount and the satisfaction that you made someone else’s life a little less shitty for a moment. Why is that not the goal? Please tell me why.

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More often than we would like, we, the everyday people, struggle, and that’s okay, but we have to become aware of that behavior and not excuse it because we see other people do so. That struggle sometimes drags us into monster forms, making us become versions of ourselves that we don’t and shouldn’t want to see. It’s important to reveal our monsters, acknowledge their existence within ourselves, and not shove them down or turn a blind eye. If we shove it down and pretend we don’t sometimes act like shitty people, the more we excuse it. We allow our pride to turn into ignorance.

So yes, we are assholes; we are becoming people who wait on others to fail, people who complain too often, and, more notably, a lot of us are people who aren’t happy to be here. We sit and wallow, or we avoid and ignore. With a magnitude of people, opinions, and voices in front of us and at our fingertips, we aren’t becoming connected like Facebook tried to tell us back in 2004.

To give people the power to build community and bring the world closer together

-Facebook, 2004

Twenty-some years later, and instead, many of us are incredibly disconnected. Projecting our frustrations onto the people around us, to strangers, hiding behind a screen, or to the ones closest to us. Disconnected from each other and ourselves, causing some monstrous behavior.

There has been this twisting of the understatement that acting as one's true, honest self means needing to act selfishly; not caring about others is to act with pride. Not caring about others will lead you to success or comfort you in the form of a confidence blanket. Either way, it has allowed the monsters to escape, causing too much harm.

I know many of us later reflect on that moment (or moments), and from there, our minds deep dive into the emotional abyss of shame, feeling regret, dread, and anguish.

We don’t want to be monsters. I know we don’t walk around happily and go to bed with peace of mind when, earlier in the day, we projected our negative emotions onto someone else. No, we stay up at night thinking about it and thinking about how we were an absolute ass. No one wants to be an asshole.

...pride is not the opposite of shame, but its source. True humility is the only antidote to shame

-Uncle Iroh

We can feel confident, climb the ladder of success, and enjoy ourselves without being assholes. We can have many achievements in our lives, and if there is one thing, it’s that it’s not by being an asshole.

Hit that “subscribe button below now, and stay connected with me on our life journeys!

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And we go somewhere we’ve never been before. Not just entertained but somehow reborn, together…the stories feel perfect and powerful because here…they are.

- Nicole Kidman

Gradually walking back and forth, having nowhere else to be, paying attention to eye-catching covers from an endless arrangement (of course, not judging them).

Your eyes and fingers drag along slightly, hovering, taking note of what you have read and what you liked versus disliked. New stories, ideas, and chances are at your fingertips. You feel magical; the escape our minds find in books transforms us into unknown realities that bring a soothing sense of comfort. New realities, new worlds, and new love stories take shape in so many genres.

And right before you know it, you take a look and pause.

Here you are...you made it to the ah f*ck I know I should read it section.

In the self-help genre, the therapy section, you have entered the you need to be better with your bullshit arena.

Your thoughts are now firing in different directions; do I turn around? You want to change, but have doubts. There is always a doubt. Escaping in fiction and feeling a deep connection to characters is so much better; it’s releasing.

The world is hard enough, living is too stressful, and love stories are enthralling. Fiction provides a break. Nonfiction is a bona fide beast, producing real battles. You’re thinking, Do I need this? Will this book really help me? Will I actually read this? Or am I ready?

Falling under the generic category as the other collection of self-help books, you may think that this is going to be some sappy, overly positive, generic repeat of almost every book out there: how you’re on this journey of life, and this is the first step on a whatever-step plan to achieve greatness!

Your inner lion. A quick start to achieving and exploring all of your goals! The key to goddamn success, baby! You’re going to sit here reading another person telling you that life in all of its glory is this giant gift you must appreciate every second of every day to be happy.

Okay, in some ways, yes, this is kind of that writing. But don’t jump ship yet, do not, and I repeat, do not, close out just yet. Why?

Because I am aware that the typical self-help route can go either way:

1. The extremely positive and motivating direction, telling you how beautiful you are inside, no matter what, filling the pages with lovely and encouraging words that guide us back to our hearts. It has a poetic nature that warms the soul by wrapping it with reassurance.

2. Throwing facts and research at you, giving an explanation for the madness. Often, studies about people with whom we have little to no context offer an explanation for why we are the way we are, and, as a whole, why we are the way we are in society. A scientific approach to understanding yourself that leads to breakthroughs and aha moments.

Both are fabulous routes that I enjoy reading myself. It’s essential to read words stemming from love and to be reminded of trouble-free tips like journaling or meditation, and of course, facts backed by research never hurt.

Both of those self-development approaches can lead you to your success. We should all take the time to appreciate the abundance of authors who give us guidance, motivation, and knowledge. I can geek out on these two paths, notably the research, for days on end.

So, where do I lie within those paths?

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Picture this:

To the left is path one: This path is flamingo pink and filled with fuzzy Truffula trees (from The Lorax). The sun is shining eminently bright, and there are cute, fluffy animals everywhere prancing about (Think Bambi). Its blinding brightness and vibrant colors are all around. You look down this path and may think it’s almost too happy to be real. It’s kind of…fake?

Path two, to the right: A forest green path with sparkles of emerald purple. It has deep, dark colors filled with melting clocks (resembling the famous painting The Persistence of Memory by Salvador Dalí), and it has an enchanting forest with little to no sun. Only some rays broke through the trees. This path looks alluring, astute, and ambiguous. Looking in this direction makes you think a lot… like, maybe too much. It’s almost as if being here for too long will give you a headache.

And finally, the middle path, three, is filled with half-pink fuzzy trees and half-melting floating clocks. It is a hybrid path that you may assume has the best of both worlds. It’s an alluring forest with cute animals prancing around (maybe fitting into an Alice in Wonderland genre).

Note that this path isn’t less daunting, but rather more in the middle. If you’re in a Jumanji-like, weird scenario and you’re looking at three paths, the choice is always yours.

But my style is path three.

I know we want to be kinder and feel lighter in our lives, and we will all have different ways of achieving that, which is why there are so many paths.

However, it is without question that we often get stuck on one of these paths, naturally, from the generic complications of life and not having enough time in the day.

We have school, work, or sometimes both, and our social lives, and then, on top of it all, we are supposed to maintain physical health. We have continuous loops of expectations that cause us to lose sight of our self-development goals.

So, it is expected to trail off on these paths. But there is one significance that needs to be absorbed, retained, and engraved into our day-to-day lifestyles: to be kind.

Frankly, path three is honesty; it’s me telling you that in so many ways, we suck, that we are, without doubt, assholes. I know what you are thinking, well, that wasn’t very kind of her.

But this is an honest path, and to change, to have real change, we need to acknowledge the hard truths about ourselves: that we are living asshole lives. And being an asshole is not this fantastic, wild, and free, living in full expression of our true identities lifestyle that we have so convinced ourselves of.

I’m calling us out.

You can have your hobbies, climb the corporate ladder, and express yourself as kindly as possible.

And, yes, strolling through the bookstore or our never-ending Substack platform, we need the scary or cheesy risk of looking in the self-help section.

However, this path, my path, acknowledges the bullshit in life, brings awareness of why you should want to be kinder, and, eminently, gives you the perspective and tools to do so. In our glorious Real World and our Online World.

Let’s build a kind community, live honestly, and add to our very fulfilling, chaotic lives!

This is due to algorithms.

Algorithms take the Internet from a collective concept to an individualistic one, and the Internet can become a personalized source of information or content.

Filter bubbles, as Pariser coined them, are our media ecosystem, our personal universe of information that we live in online (Pariser, 2011). They are formed when algorithms curate content based on user preferences. However, the concept of filter bubbles has sparked debate.

Many argue that the Internet and algorithms are not the reason individuals find themselves in like-minded, isolating viewpoints, and that, before the Internet, this kind of isolation was still prevalent.

I argue that filter bubbles are a real and significant phenomenon on social media platforms, shaping opinions and reinforcing polarisation by limiting exposure to diverse perspectives.

Using Twitter fandoms during the COVID-19 pandemic as a case study, this article demonstrates how algorithms amplify shared beliefs and create echo chambers.

First, focusing on Twitter fandom communities, where shared opinions reinforce group identity and create highly polarised fan groups.

The Twitter illustration will show how filter bubbles can create bias in online behavioral attitudes that could not be accepted in real-world dynamics. The example will be explored by examining a K-POP fandom’s response to a tragic event, presenting how their collective actions reflect groupthink.

Together, let’s explore how the cooperation between algorithmic design and user behavior shapes digital experiences, ultimately influencing how perspectives are reinforced or limited.

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What are Filter Bubbles?

As previously mentioned, the original term ‘Filter bubbles’ was created by Eli Pariser. Since then, the term has been widely studied to better understand how the creation of algorithms and the production of online personalization lead to online environments that reinforce like-mindedness.

Like-mindedness, in theory, draws positive ideology, promoting easier gateways for people to manage the tools of the Internet, making it less daunting and more time-effective. The important concept to remember regarding filter bubbles is that the specific results that follow an individual’s preferences are driven by algorithms based on the actions taken while online.

When searching for an answer, laughter, events, or new information, it is typically agreeable that people find comfort in what they already know and like, even if the search is meant to be new for the individual.

For example, when searching for a new recipe, people want to experience something different, but the algorithm, knowing what has been searched and saved before, can allow results that tie in with what is already known. This idea promotes time effectiveness and the soothing qualities of not having to search endlessly.

To better understand the logistics of how algorithms on social platforms work in the context of content shared, the mathematical operation can look as simple as this for Facebook,

This is just the algorithm at work, not the filtering; filtering is applied when the user clicks, and the clicked articles are then seen by the algorithm as preferred. Then, user preference can be further enhanced when other actions, such as commenting or sharing, are also involved.

Similarly, Twitter uses algorithms to prioritize content based on user preferences and interactions. Online actions such as liking, retweeting, or direct messaging play a key role in shaping what users see on their feed. These design features enhance the algorithm, creating personalized content that contributes to each platform’s creation of filter bubbles.

This raises questions about how much control users truly have over their online experiences.

Now, it can be seen as the user creating their own ecosystem by clicking; that is the user’s behavior, after all. However, the algorithms continue to push this filtering by picking up on the smallest action of human curiosity. Just because someone looks inside a store window at a pair of shoes does not necessarily mean they want to buy them, let alone see them in every store window afterward.

The algorithms can create a corrupt cycle, allowing filtering to become uncontrollable; the more one clicks and likes, the harder it is to elude back into a neutral position on platforms. Nevertheless, it is essential to note that a common debate is whether a person can have some sense of control. Regarding user control, it raises questions about the responsibility between algorithms and individual users. Is there a balance in shaping online experiences between platform designs and users?

Ultimately, this situation shows the conflict between how technology is designed and how people make choices. It raises important questions about control and decision-making.

Twitter provides a clear example of how algorithms and user behavior shape online communities.

It has developed into a space where communities come together with a shared passion: critiquing movies, tracking the top music charts of the week, and staying up to date on world news. Twitter’s space has become a highly interactive platform over the last two decades, providing a sense of belonging and freedom of expression. The platform emphasizes real-time interaction between users.

Real-time interaction creates space for belonging and collective passion among people.

Nevertheless, the platform is also a digital space where filter bubbles arise within these communities. In these filter bubbles, algorithmically driven content reinforces existing opinions and limits exposure to different viewpoints. Limiting viewpoints creates groupthink and shapes online behaviors that wouldn’t necessarily happen in person.

Fandom communities are people who share a passion for a specific culture, including movies, shows, video games, celebrities, or ideologies. These communities amplify their collective enthusiasm for their shared interests, and the platform features such as hashtags, retweets, and trends help nurture them.

Twitter and its fandom community operate within filter bubbles, which are reinforced by the platform’s design and algorithm. When a user follows another who shares the same interest, for example, a celebrity, they can then see retweets about that shared interest and continue to like those tweets.

This play of the algorithm reinforces group identity, amplifies that user’s passion, and creates a positive feedback loop. In this case, the platform design encourages users to engage with content that reinforces their beliefs and discourages challenging opinions.

Although the community spaces created are meant to share a positive reinforcement for shared love, these filter bubbles can create echo chambers. Echo chambers occur in digital communities when content in users’ feeds aligns with their beliefs, and users do not actively seek outside perspectives; group dynamics in community spaces reinforce a safe space for similar beliefs.

Users often avoid differing opinions in Twitter groups by adhering to the community guidelines they created and following fandom leaders who shape the group’s narratives. The platform’s features, such as muting, allow user-driven exclusion of dissenting views, which is entwined with the user’s behavior and contributes to these echo chambers. These closed-group dynamics in the online space can promote the rejection of outside opinions when differing views arise and amplify shared enthusiasm for whatever trending topic is happening.

One notable example of echo chambers and selective exposure reinforcing group identity while overlooking real-world normative behaviors on Twitter can be shown through the K-POP fandom.

Specifically, following the event of Félicité Tomlinson, the sister of One Direction member Louis Tomlinson's death, where K-POP fans weaponized the tragedy,

“...several Twitter accounts dedicated to K-Pop fandoms capitalised on Félicité’s death, using this news as an opportunity to celebrate the talent and successes of their preferred groups and idols” Mercier, F. (2022).

People in the community used her name as a joke towards individuals outside the fandom, using it as a hashtag and a phrase. The fandom collectively allowed the death to be used to the algorithm's advantage, using the trending topic to promote Blackpink’s music and K-POP group Loona’s debut by using the Tomlinson name in tweets.

The group members actively turned a personal loss into a meme, engaged with narratives that aligned with their identity, and ignored any outside opinion regarding broader ethical concerns. This demonstrates selective exposure, as these fans engage only with content that aligns with their narrative, ignoring alternative views.

Fandoms loyal to their group have deep roots in the competitive nature of their artists, often getting into Twitter arguments and stan competitions with other fandoms, using their community to back each other up while ignoring outside viewpoints. Their feeds amplify groupthink and reject outside perspectives, creating an echo chamber.

As time goes on, with online communities increasing their shared love, with the contribution of the user behavior, actively choosing to ignore, block, or attack other voices, this eventually results in group polarization and raises questions about how these online group dynamics differ from real-world social norms.

Analyzing the polarization of these fandoms and their online behaviors stresses the tension between digital and real-world interactions. Social norms and accountability usually help create conversations between parties. However, on social media, anonymity and the ability to reach many people can lead users to behave more aggressively or disregard typical social norms.

Illustrating how filter bubbles and echo chambers create environments of online groupthink that lead users in community spaces to diverge from outside perspectives, ultimately intensifying ideological divides. This analysis shows that Twitter’s design and user behavior can create filter bubbles and echo chambers in fandom communities. The K-Pop fandom’s reaction to Félicité Tomlinson’s death highlights how these issues can increase groupthink.

Also, it showcases how it encourages behaviors that differ from real-world standards, raising questions about whether people would say those stan-comments aloud.

Overall, examining these online trends shows when group polarisation comes into effect and raises questions about how digital spaces with powerful algorithms and multiple platform features affect people.

It is important to note how we, as Users, behave online and to what degree we hold ourselves responsible. How much of our actions keep these bubbles going and affect our perspectives?

Filter bubbles are a complex and multifaceted phenomenon that undeniably influences digital interactions and public discourse. Algorithms and human choices shape issues like polarisation and misinformation.

This understanding can improve media literacy and help design platforms that provide a mix of personalized content and exposure to different viewpoints. Ultimately, navigating the impact of filter bubbles requires collective responsibility to ensure that digital spaces promote dialogue and understanding rather than division.

How Do We Fathom?

Whispers and Echoes of Past, Present, and Future.

Holes Inside,

Filled with Whispers.

Holes Filled and Echoes Returned.

God and Gods,

Words.

Holes and Words;

My Kingdom Come.

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March.

March.

March to the Words.

Words Unknown.

Ill Minded,

Drummer Boys and Masked Soldiers,

March.

Fall;

Whispers Silenced.

Now Spoken and Filled.

Purple Heart.

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It’s a weird feeling to be sad now. I remember, distantly now, a time when my sadness captivated my whole body. When I would only think about all of my pains and how they were devouring me.

But now…

Well, now my sadness is like a connection to others. A relatable essence that reminds me that I am just like them, like everyone else, and we are all the same; how we are all here, moving and feeling. All of us are in a dance.

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The emotion that once was a full-body takeover, a mind virus that shut down all malfunctions. Is now an emotion that is merely a mask covering for the lack of hope that fills my heart and mind.

A mask that, when put on, lies as a reminder of who I once was and, when ready to be taken off, a symbol of beauty for how far I’ve come.

Assurance is continuously creeping in with each masking, knowing that it is no longer a suit.

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For the first time since I was 16, I went to a psychiatrist. I struggle with ADHD, and lately, as I’ve reentered the job market, with my fear of disappointing my fellow coworkers, I’ve decided to take the leap back and talk about my options for help.

But that's just what I tell most people, friends and family, out of fear of vulnerability.

Here is the real story:

I am a bit hyperindependent when it comes to receiving help for anything that has to do with the mental.

Since waking up one random day at 22 after a crowded night out, feeling entirely alone, I’ve taken extreme measures to change my habits, attitude, and, therefore, my life.

At 23, I took a leap and moved from Chicago to Los Angeles because a friend simply asked.

At 24, I took my years of yoga to the next level and began meditating. And prioritized walking 10,000 steps a day.

At 25, I thought I finally had it all together (how ironic and such a twenty-year-old mindset).

When I moved to California, I stopped smoking and using it to depend on sleeping, drinking, and partying every weekend (every once in a while, though, because life is short and I love to dance), and I truthfully cut a lot of time with friends, old and new, because I was using them to avoid reflection.

During these years, I started reading, mostly nonfiction self-help and philosophy books. Starting with, of course, The Alchemist, but then somehow stumbling upon The Everybody Ensemble by Amy Leach and Awareness by Anthony de Mello.

Then I stumbled upon an Instagram Live with Florence Pugh, and at the perfect moment, I heard her explain why she doesn’t dwell on sad music. A spark struck. Words of melancholy tunneled through my ears and embedded themselves deep in my brain, constantly validating my dark thoughts. So I changed my music habits. No sad music on repeat!

The cherry on top: I discovered a love for podcasts, including Mel Robbins (best for career advice, habit formation, and a fuck-it attitude), Jay Shetty (best for love and relationships), and Brené Brown (for learning about our emotions and the people around us).

With a love for my new self and gratitude at the forefront of my life at 26, I took another leap, moving to Scotland to pursue my master’s degree at the University of Glasgow and to fulfill my dream of becoming a writer.

I met people from all across the world and had the best year of my life. I found my motto:

Open Mind, Open Heart.

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But then, at 27, I had to move back to the United States, and a new form of depression found me. Numbness returned as the sense of failure set in.

While I was getting my master’s, I was writing a book on Cancel Culture and thought I would finish it by the time the new year started, but instead, I haven’t found the motivation to write since July 2025. I started working the same kind of advertising job I had thought I had left behind when I went to Scotland.

For the past few months, I have been unrecognizable. I stopped writing and reading, and I stopped doing what made me, well, me. I was completely infatuated by someone I met in Scotland, and they didn’t feel the same, so I started the sad music journey again.

I kept gratitude close to my heart, but the veil of sadness swept over my achievements, and I couldn’t find what had not only motivated me but also made me feel so relentless and equally light for the last 5 years.

However, I will not let my motto be overshadowed, and I refuse to abandon my dreams. Therefore, I sought help from others, something I hadn’t done since I was a teenager.

Once again, we're embarking on an exciting journey of self-discovery. One of the simple yet meaningful tasks she assigned me was to create a Joy List. I smiled as she assigned me this simple sheet, just as I did when I was 24, in my new room in California.

Again, here we are, at 27, in my new room in California.

Here is my Joy List

Daily:

• Morning walks

• Listening to music

• Drinking coffee

• Making a meal

• Eating dessert

• Getting lost in my thoughts

• Talking to my best friend

• Scrolling on the phone

• Saying thank you to the plants (I really do this one, no performative actions here)

Weekly:

• Watching a show

• Trying something new (cooking/food)

• Getting coffee from my favorite or a new place

• FaceTime my parents/siblings

• Going to the beach

• Buying fresh flowers

• Going to the gym (2 to 3 times)

• Going to the farmers’ market

• Listening to classical music

• Grocery shopping

• Hanging out with my friends

• Seeing a movie at the theater

Monthly:

• Traveling to a new city and exploring for the day

• Using my camera

• Eating at a new restaurant

• Going on a hike

• Talking to my friends abroad

• Finishing a book

Every six months:

• Vacationing

• Visiting family

• Trying a new hobby

• Letting my emotions seep in

• Dreaming

Now listen, this isn’t groundbreaking work. You most likely aren’t going to write this and have an a-ha moment that gives you an unbreakable will to live.

But. It does help you get out of your own head for a short time.

It does remind you of the most important lesson in happiness in this life: gratitude.

It doesn’t make your ego flourish or pump pride in your chest, and it doesn’t lift any dark veils.

It simply makes you smile, and sometimes that is enough for the day.

Why not take just 15 minutes today or tomorrow to jot down your list? I’d love to hear it too.

Oh, how you make my soul feel as if it’s dancing towards a fire of unknown consumption.

Twirling towards warmth or in a trance to ashes, I do not know.

Oh, how I do not want to know, yet I cannot stop. I will not stop. I must stop.

It is not my feet that sway, it is not my mind that counts, my arms do not fly of whimsy, my heart cannot stop.

Beating and beating.

The beat will not go.

Oh, it is my soul.

Engulfed in your waves of glow.

I burn.

Oh, how I dance, and I dance.

Sunrise. Sunlight. Sunset.