Escaping The Collective ‘We’

Falling Back Into Old Patterns

I’ve been distracted—chasing who I’m not instead of who I want to be. It’s so easy to fall back into old patterns, and no matter how disciplined I tell myself I need to be, I’m not immune to it.

The last few weeks have been a mess. I’ve been unhappy with where I’m at, and when I feel like that, I get busy applying to the same practical opportunities that thousands of other average yet intelligent people are chasing. It’s a quick fix—or at least it feels like one—but it never works. You can’t stand out in that crowd. You’re just another number, a cog in the wheel, part of some collective identity, because you couldn’t discipline yourself enough to find your own.

I know that sounds harsh—maybe even mean—but it’s exactly how I feel. Sure, you get a paycheck and a “comfortable” life, but what kind of life is it if you can’t even be yourself?

The Comfort Trap

I don’t want to be average. I’ve dreaded being average my whole life. Never fitting in with the exceptionally brilliant crowd, but knowing deep down that I’m not cut out for the cookie-cutter life either—the job, the family, the house in the suburbs.

I’ve always wanted to go against the grain, to embrace my entrepreneurial side. And it’s more than just a corporate identity with my name stamped on it. I want the creative, messy, authentic, and beautifully chaotic life that leads to something new—something the world hasn’t seen before.

Maybe it’s a book. Maybe it’s a way of thinking. Whatever it is, I want to give something to the world that matters—something that changes how people see the future, or even the present. I want to be a changemaker, someone who works on something bigger than myself. Not dragged into the boring corporate grind full of drama and meaningless arguments about things that won’t matter in five years.

Because the truth is, that world doesn’t want people like me. It’s too busy playing the same tired game—one where everyone fights for power and influence, and no one has enough room to breathe, let alone create.

When Passion Meets a Dead End

I’ve put my heart and soul into work before. I’ve given it everything—my passion, curiosity, ideas—and for what? It doesn’t recognize that kind of effort. It’s comfortable being mediocre, staying in its lane, and keeping things exactly as they are.

I even went as far as using my master’s thesis to try to reshape the organization I was working for at the time. I poured hours into research and strategy, developing ideas to help the company grow and thrive. It wasn’t just about getting a degree—it was about creating something meaningful. But no one cared.

And it wasn’t just there. Over and over, I’ve shown up to interviews with detailed plans for change, innovative ideas for the future, and genuine excitement about what could be. But they didn’t want it. They wanted someone to stay in their lane, to keep the status quo intact.

It made me feel like I didn’t belong. Like I wasn’t good enough.

Crawling Out of the Pit

That rejection did a number on me. It made me question everything—my worth, my ideas, my future. It made me believe that passion, curiosity, and hard work meant nothing.

But maybe it wasn’t about me. Maybe it was about the world I was trying to fit into. A world that’s cold, political, and stuck in its ways.

Even now, I find myself crawling back to it. Thinking, This time will be different. But it never is. It’s the same pasture, just a different farm. The same drama, the same chaos, the same soul-sucking grind.

Choosing My Own Path

I’m done letting that world pull me back. I can’t keep giving it the best parts of myself only to have them crushed or ignored.

I need to make time for me. For the path I’ve always known I should be on—the one where I can write, read, and explore who I really am. Where I can show the world something real and maybe even spark a little change.

It won’t be easy. It’ll take discipline and boundaries. It’ll mean saying no to all the practical, logical distractions that try to drag me back into the mold.

Maybe it’s a midlife crisis. Maybe I just took the wrong path from the start and I’m finally waking up to it. Whatever this is, I know one thing: I’m on a new road now.

And for once, I’m staying on it. No more detours. This time, I’m doing it for me.

Finding My Way: From Fearless Beginnings to Hard-Earned Confidence

Looking Back: The Start of My Career

It’s funny when I think about it now—I started my career at a level people work years to reach. At 25, I somehow landed the role of Communications Director at a tiny start-up. Even now, I’m still not sure how I got there. My résumé had a few internships, but nothing that really screamed "qualified." I hadn’t written a marketing plan, built a website, or created a media strategy. Most of the stuff I’d done was just surface-level, the kind of tasks you get during an internship. I’d never done any of it on my own either, and I had zero experience in the wind energy industry. Still, the CEO believed in me.

Learning on the Fly

I remember sitting in that conference room, just the CEO and me, hammering out the company’s marketing strategy. It was surreal. For a 25-year-old, it was beyond exciting—empowering, even.

Looking back, I wonder: Was I scared? Did the weight of it all hit me, or was I just riding the high of finally getting a job after so much rejection? Strangely, I don’t remember being afraid. What I do remember is feeling alive, energized. The start-up grew as I did, expanding from a four-person team to over 20 employees. Before long, I was managing a small team—two interns and another communications person.

Gaining Confidence in the Chaos

We achieved some pretty cool things. We launched several websites—one for the company and others for the wind farms—put out press releases, got media coverage, and created a bunch of newsletters, blogs, and marketing materials. For a young marketing professional, it was a dream, and I jumped right in, giving it my all.

So why, nearly two decades later, am I hesitating to take on a management role again? It's been almost 20 years since I last held a similar position. What changed? Well, I did—and so did my experiences.

The Doubts Set In

With time comes experience, but also what some might call baggage. Back then, I didn’t know anything about office politics or navigating relationships at work. Sure, I’d dealt with rejection, but not in a professional setting. I quickly learned. My need to please and be perfect slowly started chipping away at my confidence.

It all started at that first job. One day, my boss bluntly told me he didn’t understand why I had pursued a communications degree because, in his opinion, I wasn’t a good communicator. I was crushed. I remember crying in the office bathroom that day. He intimidated me—he had high standards, and I was desperate to meet them. Over time, he started favoring someone else on our team, a brilliant young woman who was on her way to a legal career. Suddenly, it wasn’t just the two of us building the company anymore. The office filled with new faces, and the excitement I’d once felt began to fade, replaced by doubt.

A Pattern Emerges

That was just the beginning. When I left the company during the recession, the doubts came with me. It shaped how I approached every job after that. I took on smaller roles, never quite reaching that managerial level again. About eight or nine years later, I applied for another management position and was turned down—they didn’t think I was ready. Later, when I joined a new company and the manager left, I was passed over again. No one got promoted; we just took on the extra work without the title or recognition.

Facing Familiar Fears

Now here I am, in a similar situation. Another manager is leaving, and there are no plans to hire someone new. But this time, I’m scared. Years of criticism and rejection have planted seeds of doubt that have fully bloomed. I question myself constantly, even though, ironically, I never doubted myself when I was 25 and knew next to nothing. Back then, I had total confidence in my ability to learn.

Rediscovering My Confidence

It’s wild to think about. Despite having no experience back then, I believed I could do it. I’m still a lifelong learner—I take pride in teaching myself new skills, asking questions, and figuring things out on my own. That’s my strength, and I need to remind myself of that. I’ve got 20 years of experience now. Why am I doubting myself? I can do this. I need to shift my mindset. In this field, there’s rarely one "right" way to do things. It’s all up for interpretation. I just need to trust what I know and tap into the energy and confidence I had when I was younger.

Stepping Up

I got hired back then because my boss saw my potential to learn and adapt. That’s always been my edge. There’s nothing to fear here—except my own self-doubt. And today, I’m more prepared than I was 20 years ago. It’s time to stop running from this opportunity and just go for it.

As I stand at another crossroads, I’m determined to use all the experience, knowledge, and resilience I’ve built. It’s time to turn my fear into fuel and push forward. With my experience and that same enthusiasm I had as a rookie, I’m ready for this challenge.

I’ve got this.

Breaking Free or Just Getting Stuck?

The First Breakthrough: Landing My Internship
When I landed my first internship at 23, it came after a tough year of applying for jobs, going to interviews, and facing constant rejection. So, when a marketing agency offered me a chance, it felt like I was finally breaking free from everything that had held me back—like I was finally finding my way to something bigger.

Mentorship and Meaning: Learning from Steve
I had an incredible mentor—Steve, the PR director at the time. He genuinely enjoyed helping young people like me who were struggling to break in. He saw something in me that I couldn’t see in myself. And he gave me a chance when no one else would. That meant the world to me.

Caught in the Moment: Missing the Bigger Picture
I was young, naive, and ready to learn. I soaked up everything Steve taught me—writing my first press releases, sitting in on media interviews, and just listening. But in my inexperience, I missed the bigger picture. There were signs—clues—that this career path wasn’t really meant for me.

The Unseen Struggles: Steve’s Silent Discontent
Steve’s actions stayed with me, though. I didn’t understand it at the time, but now, looking back, I realize how unhappy he was with his job. He was frustrated, disillusioned, probably around the same age I am now—middle age, the time when you start questioning your life choices.

When Everything Changes: Leadership and Loss
The company had brought in new leadership and changed everything about his team. Steve had to adapt on the fly, constantly trying to keep up with someone else’s vision. But I could tell he found joy in mentoring me. I saw it in his eyes, in the way he patiently taught me. He wanted to feel that spark again.

The Inevitable Frustration: Realizing What Really Matters
It was a sense of loss—loss of the way things used to be, the people who had come and gone, the direction things were heading that he didn’t agree with. There’s always that honeymoon period when everything clicks, but it never lasts.

Understanding Steve’s Struggles: My Own Career Journey
That growing frustration can make you feel hopeless. Now that I’ve been through all of this in my own career, I finally understand how Steve felt. Looking back, I realize I wasn’t breaking free. I was stepping into a prison that would never really fulfill me.

Defining Myself: What I’ve Learned
I poured too much of myself into a career that didn’t care about me. So why did I care so much about it? I had to stop letting it define me. I had to figure out what I wanted. Some things change, but others always stay the same.

The Unexpected Ending

A Moment of Triumph

I expected every door to open when I finally walked across that stage and got my degree. As the first woman in my family to graduate from college, I thought I had accomplished so much. After years of toiling in high school to graduate in the top 10% of my class, and then five more years to get that coveted piece of paper, it was exhilarating. I felt like I was on top of the world. My parents took my sister and me on our last family trip to NYC to celebrate, and I reveled in the excitement, believing that my hard work had finally paid off.

When I came back to Minnesota, back to my college apartment with my boyfriend at the time, Greg, I felt like everything was about to begin. I envisioned a future filled with opportunities, excited to carve my path in the world. But with every beginning comes an end—and mine came sooner than expected.

Staying Behind for Greg

As I stepped into this new chapter, I was quickly reminded of the choices I had made along the way. Greg still had another year of school left, studying electrical engineering. It was so demanding that most people took an extra year to finish. I’d already extended my stay by an extra year—I could’ve graduated the year prior. But because Greg had two more years at the time, and I wasn’t ready to step into the world just yet, I held on.

That last year before I graduated, I felt out of place. The people I started my broadcast journalism major with had already graduated, and I was just filling time with extra advertising classes. Or was I? Maybe staying back and taking extra classes wasn’t just filling time—maybe I already knew, deep down, that this future wasn’t really mine, and I was just living someone else’s dream. I remember sitting in those classes, feeling a deep sense of disconnection. As my classmates passionately discussed news stories, I struggled to muster any enthusiasm, grappling with the nagging feeling that I was on the wrong path.

A Question of Fit

With my mind filled with uncertainty, I began to question my path even further. I enjoyed being in front of the camera—originally, I wanted to be an actress, but my mom talked me out of it because it wasn’t 'practical.' Yet, as time went on, I started to feel like I didn’t belong in journalism either. While my classmates seemed to live and breathe news, forming close bonds and racking up internships at local stations, I felt like I was just going through the motions. They were nice enough, but I never felt truly included, like I didn’t have 'it.' That elusive something that makes you fit into a world that never quite felt like mine.

I experimented with my looks a lot in college—tanning, bleaching, perming, chopping my hair off, then growing it long again. I’d appear on camera in ill-fitted, cheap suits I got from JCPenney with my employee discount. I wasn’t ugly, but I didn’t feel like I was good-looking either—just disheveled and not myself. Each time I looked in the mirror, I felt a pang of sadness, recognizing how much I was trying to mask my insecurities with superficial changes. It became clear when Jake, an all-star student a year behind me, complimented my natural hair color after months of blond shades. That was the first nice thing he ever said about me. I thought it was a sign, as I had blond hair in my sizzle reel—it definitely wouldn't help me get a job because looks did matter in this industry. And I was a mess: disheveled, uncertain, and desperately trying to figure out who I was supposed to be.

Job Hunting and Self-Doubt

Feeling out of place and questioning my identity, I moved on to the next chapter: the job hunt. Back in my college apartment with Greg, I started applying for positions. I was sure I’d land an interview at channel five in Alexandria, Minnesota. I had glowing references from my advisor and professor, so I felt confident. When I got the call, I was ecstatic. This was it. I toured the station, seeing everything from the newsroom to where the anchors sat. But that’s when the sinking feeling began to creep in. As I explored the space, excitement turned to dread; the job demanded you wear multiple hats: producer, reporter, anchor. It felt overwhelming, and my mind raced with doubts. Was it even possible to handle all that without burning out? And then came my biggest mistake—I asked about the pay before even getting an offer.

The producer’s vague answer—"enough"—made me realize I’d blundered. The uncertainty gnawed at me. When weeks passed without a response, that pit in my stomach grew heavier. I still wanted to work in TV news, though, so I applied to every Minnesota station, regardless of openings. I even sent follow-up letters to Alexandria, expressing my continued interest, but never got a reply. It seemed my journalism career was over before it started. Each rejection felt like a wound, and I struggled to reconcile my dreams with the reality of my situation, feeling increasingly adrift and unsure of my worth.

The Relationship Breakdown

As the job rejections piled up, my relationship with Greg began to feel just as uncertain. Maybe I should’ve moved on, left that college town behind, started fresh in a new state, and walked away from my retail and movie theater jobs. But I needed the money to start paying back loans, and without a steady income, I’d have to ask my parents or Greg for help. I also wanted to wait around for Greg. I saw a future with him—thought maybe we’d end up working in the same town. But my obsession with the Alexandria station and lack of communication about our futures foreshadowed the distance between us.

As months passed without a job, Greg and I grew apart. He was consumed by his studies, and I was stuck in limbo. We barely saw each other outside of work at the movie theater. Then came the nights Greg didn’t come home, claiming he was too tired after studying at the fraternity. I started driving by to check if his car was there, but it never was, and with each passing day, I felt my heart sink further.

One night, while I was working at the theater, a female coworker I considered a friend told me Greg had been spending the night at her place. She apologized, but I was in shock. How could this be happening? How could Greg like someone like Melissa? We were total opposites. She then told me something even harder to hear—Greg thought I was too good for him. That I was out of his league. My heart shattered at that moment, as the crushing weight of betrayal and inadequacy settled over me like a heavy fog.

An Ending and a Beginning

Despite my anger, I felt guilt. I’d leaned on Greg too much, constantly pouring out my insecurities about not landing a job while not being there for him as he struggled through school. I realized I wasn’t even sure if I was attracted to him anymore. Our relationship, once intense, had fizzled out. We were on different paths, and neither of us had really acknowledged it.

So I left. I left our apartment, left my jobs, left Greg. We broke up, and it was devastating. When I confronted him about his infidelity, he didn’t deny it—just let me tearfully yell at him. The final blow was learning he had bought an engagement ring but never gave it to me because he couldn’t make me happy. And, honestly, how could I be happy with him if I wasn’t happy with myself? The realization struck me like a lightning bolt; I had been seeking validation from someone else instead of finding it within.

Back to Square One

As I faced this unexpected ending, everything felt like it was crashing down—my career, my love life, my plans for the future. I moved back in with my parents and started working at the local movie theater again. It felt like I was right back where I started. The familiar sights and sounds felt suffocating. But everything had changed. I had changed, yet here I was, living the same life. That’s where my college degree got me—back to square one. It was the lowest I’d ever felt, a stark reminder that the path I had envisioned was not the one I was walking.

But little did I know, this was just the beginning of facing failure head-on. Each setback would become a stepping stone toward rediscovering who I was and what truly mattered.

Encounters Beyond the Known

Haunted Thoughts

As Halloween approaches, I find myself thinking more about ghosts and hauntings—two things that have always fascinated me. I’ve watched the ghost hunter TV shows, and I’ve even met people who swear they’re real. Though I haven’t experienced a ghost myself, I’ve had moments where odd happenings made me question things. Moments where I wondered if what I was experiencing was a part of this life or another.

It’s strange to think there could be a world beyond the one we know. Religion tells us about an afterlife, but I feel there’s so much more—a complexity we can’t fully comprehend. Maybe there are different dimensions that we can’t see or feel unless we have a psychic sensitivity. And it’s likely more intricate than a simple heaven and hell. We humans categorize and classify things to make sense of them, but what if none of it makes sense in the way we understand?

There’s no math to compute these unknown worlds, so why should our language or reasoning be able to explain them? That’s why I feel we need to be open to a broader understanding of our existence—one that mixes science and all religions. I believe that within this all-encompassing view, there are patterns, similarities, and peculiar nuances that can guide and explain, but never tell us the full story. The story remains unfinished, incomplete, beyond anything we know.

Encounters of a Different Kind

One of my strangest experiences came through an ex-boyfriend. He once shared how, after experimenting with a Ouija board with friends, he started experiencing bizarre incidents involving a ghost that seemed to try to choke him and his parents at night. A priest eventually had to bless the house to make it go away. He never wanted to discuss it, and when I tried to get him to open up one night, he became visibly uncomfortable. Just then, we heard a loud bang on the ceiling of our apartment. It was strange because our apartment was made of concrete—we rarely heard our neighbors. We never spoke of it again, but I still feel it was tied to some sort of energy from his past. I’ll never know for sure.

A Guiding Presence

There was also a time in my life when I felt truly lost—alone, struggling to find my way. I was dealing with a breakup, jobless after college, and living at home. During this dark period, I had the most vivid dream: I was driving down a pothole-filled road, somehow avoiding each one. In that moment, I felt my Grandma’s presence wrap around me—she’d passed away over a decade before. She whispered that she would guide me, help me find my way, and catch me if I fell. I woke up in tears, feeling as if she’d really been there with me.

Not long after, things began to turn around. I found an internship, moved to a new city, and slowly began building a life. Sure, there were more potholes along the way, but I made it through. And perhaps, just perhaps, my Grandma was there helping me the entire time. I’d like to believe that.

Messages from Beyond

The most recent experience happened within the last ten years, shortly after Nic’s maternal grandma passed away. I struggled to sleep, feeling guilt and sadness. I regretted not being there with her in her final moments. We’d visited two days before she passed, but when I suggested staying with her, Nic resisted. He was afraid, not wanting his last memory of her to be her death. I understood, but I couldn’t shake the guilt of not supporting his mom at that moment.

One night, as I lay in bed, a voice—somehow both mine and not mine—spoke out loud: “It was not your place.” I repeated it, and I knew immediately what it meant. It was his Grandma, telling me that being at her bedside was not my place. It was a moment for her daughter and son. Though a trace of guilt lingered, I felt more at peace. I knew it was okay that I hadn’t been there.

Then, a couple of nights later, Nic and I both had the same dream. We saw his Grandpa sitting in his chair, with Grandma standing over him, watching. It felt like a message, a reminder that his Grandma was still present, somehow.

Beyond the Shadows

These aren’t typical ghost stories. They’re subtle, personal, and perhaps all in my head. Humans, after all, try to use logic to explain what can’t be explained. But I believe these experiences are glimpses of something beyond, something spiritual that connects us to those we love, even after they’re gone. I may never feel their presence this strongly again, but I believe they’re still there. I believe Grandma watches over Nic’s grandpa. I believe my Grandma guided me when I needed her most.

I believe in ghosts. There, I said it.

The Perfectionist’s Paradox

Chasing Perfection, Losing Myself

I’m always chasing perfection, trying to make everything just right. But this constant drive usually leads me off course. I end up overthinking, second-guessing, or pushing myself to do more because I can never fully trust that what I’ve done is good enough. It feels like my whole life is this exhausting effort to meet other people’s expectations or shape myself into someone I’m not. And honestly, I hate it. I hate that I can’t just be okay with how things are right now.

Stuck in the Future, Missing the Moment

I’m always looking ahead, so much that I miss what’s right in front of me. Like today—this perfect autumn day with the clear blue sky and warm sun. Everything about it is amazing, but I can’t seem to enjoy it. I know I should be soaking it all in, appreciating it, but something inside me keeps pulling me away, making me miss out on what’s happening right here, right now.

The Trap of Perfectionism

It’s kind of a cruel joke, isn’t it? The more I chase perfection, the more I miss out on what’s actually perfect in its own way. It’s like being stuck in a game I can’t win, trying to fix things that I can’t fix no matter how hard I try. In the end, striving for perfection just means I’m bound to fail before I even start.

Finding Myself Outside the 9-to-5

The Illusion of Finding Myself Through Work

I spent way too much of myself on my career, thinking it would somehow lead me to who I really am. But it didn’t. Looking back, I realize there was nothing truly me in any of it. Work was just a way to make a living—survival mode—not a way to actually live. I poured my heart and soul into something that could never give back, and in the process, I lost touch with who I am. I let society steer me, following the standard path everyone expects. But in doing that, I ignored what I really wanted.

At the Edge of Something New

Now, here I am, standing at the edge of something unknown. I picture myself in a forest, surrounded by towering trees, crickets chirping, birds singing, and creatures rustling around me. It feels like an invitation to step forward, but honestly? I don’t know where to start. I’ve gotten so good at being the person I was “supposed” to be—the one who goes to college, lands a corporate job, and checks all the boxes. But that’s not the road I want to keep following.

Finding My Own Way

I want to wander off the beaten path, explore the unknown, and take in the sounds, smells, and mysteries of nature. I crave that space to figure things out. It’s not going to happen all at once, and I know it won’t change my life overnight, but it’s a start. And right now, a start is exactly what I need.

Looking Back, Moving Forward

Nostalgia and Regret

Middle age has me feeling nostalgic—a little yearning, perhaps, to have another shot at it all, even though I know that’s not realistic. People often say they have no regrets, but what if I admit that I do? Am I one of the few?

The High School Hustle

Almost 25 years ago, I was fully immersed in my senior year, doing everything possible to secure a scholarship and get into a good college. I dreamed of being an actress, so I threw myself into every arts-related extracurricular: musicals, choir, plays, and forensics. My goal was simple: achieve, then achieve more, until I reached the top. But I was constantly in competition, not just with others but with myself.

With an almost perfect GPA, I found myself lumped in with the “smart kids”—that superhuman clique of students who seemed to excel at everything. Top scholars, top athletes, top performers. Yet, I always felt like an outsider. I was book smart and worked hard to succeed, but I lacked the natural, almost genius-like abilities that my peers had. They shined effortlessly. I was always pushing for what little space was left.

Reopening Old Memories

These memories came rushing back as my 25th reunion approaches. Nearly 25 years gone, and I’m starting to look back. One realization struck me: I never bought my yearbook that final year.

At the time, jealousy and frustration colored my view of that book. It symbolized all the missed opportunities, the roles I didn’t get, the popularity I didn’t achieve. I wasn’t in many photos, I wasn’t the lead in anything, I wasn’t a valedictorian, and I didn’t get the big scholarship. I was close to the top, but I never quite made it.

Now, as a forty-something adult, those thoughts seem a little silly. In high school, I was so focused on what I hadn’t achieved that I missed out on enjoying that fleeting time. I let perfectionism rule my life, when I could have embraced the freedom of youth. Back then, the expectations of others felt overwhelming, and they steered me toward practicality: a journalism degree instead of my dream.

The Yearbook Rediscovered

But back to that yearbook—I finally decided to buy a reprint, 25 years later, to see if those feelings still lingered. Flipping through the pages, I found traces of that old jealousy. The same top students dominated the photos, filling pages with their accomplishments. Out of curiosity, I looked up those seven standout students. Were they still at the top? In most cases, yes—they were lawyers, doctors, financiers, even a hedge fund VP. They were every bit as accomplished as I once thought they’d be.

And yet, seeing this didn’t hurt like I thought it might. Instead, I felt a strange sense of peace. I realized it no longer mattered. Comparing myself to them had held me back for so long, and I finally felt the weight lift. In fact, I discovered something surprising: I’d won an English department award in high school, one for excellence in research and writing. I didn’t remember it, and I certainly hadn’t valued it then.

Discovering My True Passion

My dream was to act, and when that didn’t work out, I shifted to broadcasting. I was still chasing validation, hoping to stand out. But with writing, I found a different satisfaction—a quieter, more lasting one. In the past few years, I’ve embraced my love for writing again, just as I did back then, only now I’m able to see its value.

Looking Forward, Letting Go

So yes, I have regrets. I regret letting perfectionism and competition consume me back then. It’s cost me time and peace, focusing on why I wasn’t like others instead of leaning into my own strengths. But I don’t want to look back anymore. After too much time spent reliving old memories, I’m finally ready to move on.

Here’s to living the next half of my life without regrets. Here’s to letting go of the past and living for myself.

A Battle Against the Inner Storm

The Calm Before the Inner Storm

The sky stretches out, a wide, endless blue with not a cloud in sight. It feels like it goes on forever, like you could get lost just staring at it. The air is warm, almost perfectly still, with just a hint of a breeze brushing by. Sunlight spills over everything, making the trees look like they've been dipped in some kind of shiny gloss. Birds are chirping, their high-pitched calls blending into this peaceful little soundtrack, with the occasional sharp squawk from a blue jay breaking through. It’s late September, and the day feels almost too perfect – like something out of a movie.

The Fragility of Serenity

But even as I sit here soaking it all in, my thoughts aren’t cooperating. Inside, there's a storm brewing, like my mind just can't settle. It's weird how, despite the soft curtains swaying in the breeze and the sun filtering through in this picture-perfect way, I can't shake the feeling that this calm won’t last. Any second now, it could be gone—a kid yelling, a bird squawking too loudly, or someone cranking up a leaf blower. It's as if moments like this are always slipping through my fingers.

Cherishing Beauty in a Transient World

So, I try to take it all in. The warmth on my skin, the breeze, the quiet. This world, with all its small wonders and shiny, fleeting beauty, needs to be appreciated while it’s here. It won’t last. The bright greens and warmth will soon give way to the cold, with trees stripped bare and everything turning brown and gray, eventually buried under snow. The wind will cut through, harsh and unforgiving. It’s strange how the same world can shift so quickly. It makes me miss the summer before it’s even fully gone.

Finding Peace Amidst Chaos

I want to hold onto this moment. I’m trying to quiet my mind, to let go of all the noise and just be here, right now. I think I can do it—if I can just keep myself present, keep my eyes open, and not get lost in the storm swirling around inside me.

Embracing Life's Imperfections

The Complexity of Being Human

Life is about the human experience—complex, messy, and full of emotions that we struggle to understand and accept. At the same time, we have these incredible brains that help us learn, grow, and evolve. Out of all creatures on Earth, we alone have the ability to feel so deeply while thinking critically—our greatest strength and, sometimes, our greatest weakness.

We feel everything so intensely that sadness can spiral into depression, and joy can seem all too fleeting. Grief, anger, fear, guilt, and regret can hold us back, but they also give us a way to dive deeper into the fullness of this experience. It’s no wonder so many of us seek an escape, numbing ourselves to avoid feeling so much. But in doing so, we miss the chance to really understand why we’re feeling this way in the first place.

It hurts. It’s painful to face. But we have to learn how to deal with these feelings without letting them numb us. Because once we do, we open the door to a world of hope. On the other side of pain, we find excitement, enthusiasm, love, and joy—and we’re able to appreciate those feelings even more because we know what it’s like to experience everything else.

Life is What We Make of It

That’s what life is really about—navigating the experience, using our minds to reflect, and pushing ourselves beyond our comfort zones. There’s not much more to the human experience than that—it’s what we make of it.

Some will say you need to find your purpose or passion. Others will claim life is about travel or self-discovery. But these ideas often come with a hidden agenda that’s not really about you. Sure, having a purpose can give some people direction, but what if you never find it? Centuries ago, no one talked about finding their ‘purpose’—this idea is a modern construct designed to lead people down a certain path.

What if I just want to explore different interests without labeling them as ‘passions’ or ‘purposes’? What if I just want to live my life, learning something new about myself every day? Everyone’s searching for some elusive meaning, but maybe the meaning is simply in living—in exploring this amazing world as we wish, and being grateful we get to do it with the people we care about.

Freedom from Expectations

Can life just be about that? The constant search for meaning or purpose can drive some to despair—depression, even worse. The truth is, purpose doesn’t exist universally for everyone, and that’s okay. Each person’s human experience is different, shaped by emotions, thought processes, and those messy gray areas.

Instead of getting lost in our emotions or what society tells us we should feel, let’s embrace what life offers right here and now. Everything we need is in front of us. Let’s make the most of each day because being alive is an incredible gift. Don’t get caught up in society’s expectations—just live your life the way you want.

Explore Your Ember

The Pressure to Choose a Path

We’ve all been told to follow a singular path—to chase our dreams or find our passion. This idea is drilled into us from childhood, through grade school, and into college, where we’re expected to pick one major and stick with it. This kind of pressure can be overwhelming for a child still figuring out who they are, let alone what they want to do for the rest of their lives. It's unrealistic and may even be a contributing factor to our mental health struggles. When our lives become centered around achievements and goals, we often experience unnecessary stress, anxiety, and even depression.

The Beauty of Wandering

I believe in a different approach—multiple paths, or maybe no paths at all. These journeys can meander through dark forests, stay still, or branch off in various directions. They might be paths we’ve walked before but want to revisit with newfound wisdom. They represent the sparks or embers within us that we yearn to rekindle and explore. It’s not about finding that one passion or dream; it’s simply about discovering people, experiences, and things that matter to us.

Life doesn't have to be framed as a singular journey—it can be about living on our own terms, free from societal expectations.

Keeping Our Spirits Alive

At its core, it’s about keeping our embers—our spirits—alive, embracing the essence of who we are. It takes wandering—physically, mentally, or in every way in between—to realize how to nurture that essence. I’m still on that journey, exploring various embers along the way.

The Weight of Expectations

As a kid, I had diverse interests—writing, theater, singing, and academics. But I felt the weight of the pressure to excel in one area. Life seemed focused on success and overcoming failures, leading me to believe that perfection was the only path to achievement. This constant striving for perfection triggered intense anxiety, ultimately leading to an eating disorder. The competition and fear of not measuring up created a toxic mindset, pitting me against everyone, including myself.

The narrative often tells us to refocus our failures and rejections as growth opportunities on our way to our dreams or passions. But what if that’s just a way to control who we are?

Redefining Fulfillment

The prevailing notion suggests that without a purpose or passion, we aren’t whole. It's a myth that tells us fulfillment comes from following a singular path and achieving our goals.

Let me share something: I didn’t chase my dream of becoming a Broadway actress, and I’m grateful for that. Society pushed me to choose a dream before I was ready. Now, with the wisdom that comes from experience, I realize that while I enjoyed acting in high school, it wasn’t my so-called true calling. I wanted to explore everything.

Wandering with Curiosity

Instead of being confined to a single pursuit, I aimed to live life with curiosity, to explore my embers without having to choose just one. I wish I had embraced this earlier; it would have preserved my mental health. I originally shifted my focus to broadcast journalism in college, only to discover it wasn’t a true passion either. I then pivoted again to marketing, which led to further disappointment and a sense of living someone else’s life.

Through these experiences, I became disillusioned with the idea that life must revolve around a singular dream. 

Breaking Free from Myths

Living life isn't about one dream or even multiple dreams; it’s not defined by accomplishments, failures, or rejections. These concepts are just constructs we’ve created to fit into a modern society’s agenda.

We don’t need a predefined path. The true path is forward—embracing life, exploring, learning, and enjoying the journey with those we love. Some may insist there's more to life—talking about purpose or serving others—but that merely supports a defined path.

Embracing Openness

As I’ve reached middle age, I’ve opened myself to whatever life has in store – I’ve started this blog for example and stopped focusing on chasing a meaningless ‘singular’ career as a definition of who I am. That’s because I now know I’m so much more than that. I’ve learned to cherish every moment, free from the need to find meaning or purpose. The meaning is already present, right in front of me. And that sense of freedom? That’s the true essence of living.

The Unexpected Power of Love

Love Without Struggle

One thing I’ve strangely never had to struggle much with is finding love. My parents have always been together, no divorce, no drama. Forty-plus years, and they’ve barely fought. They avoid conflict, which can be a blessing and a curse at times. But overall, growing up in a small Minnesotan town was as good as it gets. I’ve got no complaints.

When it comes to romantic relationships, though, in the past I was always able to find them—just not the right one. Like most people, I went through my share of trial and error. With low self-esteem as a kid, I’d fall in love with the idea of love—someone paying attention to me made me feel worthy, especially when I couldn’t find that worth within myself. I often chose partners for the wrong reasons: physical attraction and validation. I didn’t really think about whether they aligned with my values or who I was at my core. To be fair, I was still figuring that out, and my values were evolving. Looking back, some of the guys I dated I wouldn’t even consider now because I know myself so much better.

Love Finds Its Way

It’s strange how love just falls into place. There’s no plan. It happens when it’s supposed to, and you find that person who makes you feel whole. I found that in Nic—my kindred spirit, my best friend, my confidant. We’re so alike, but different enough to balance each other. He’s everything I ever wanted when it comes to love.

I met Nic when I was in a low place, depressed over another relationship that had ended. I wasn’t even looking for someone. I was just living life. And that’s when it happened. It’s funny how when you let go and stop trying so hard, the right things just fall into place. Meeting Nic was like a dream. There was this instant, mutual attraction that I’d never experienced before. In the past, my relationships felt one-sided—either I wasn’t that into them or I was distracted by school or my career. I’d stay in relationships longer than I should, often out of guilt or because I couldn’t face the truth about my feelings. People-pleasing at its finest.

But with Nic, it was different. We were both there, fully present, and really in love, the way it’s supposed to be.

A Deepening Connection

Over a decade later, we’re still together. The intensity has faded a bit, but what’s replaced it is something deeper—a connection, a bond that’s hard to put into words. We have our own language now, our own little world that only we understand. It’s comforting, finding that person who gets you, who loves and accepts you for everything you are, flaws and all.

It started with attraction, but now it’s a deep love. Nic’s my soulmate. He makes waking up in this sometimes harsh world a little easier. Having him by my side, having that comforting place to go when life gets tough—that’s what makes it all worth it.

What Really Matters

It’s taken me a while to realize this, but life isn’t about the degrees you earn or the career you wish you had. It’s about the people who make it all worth it. And often, these people come into your life by chance. There’s no plan, despite what we’re told. We’re just living in the present, and the relationships we build can push us to be more than we ever thought possible.

In the end, it’s not about what we do. It’s about who we’re with.

The Calm Before The Change

The lake stretches endlessly toward the horizon, glittering under the hazy sun that casts a glossy glow across its surface.

Endless Horizons, Endless Change
As we approach, the wind grows stronger, whipping around us, and the frothy, white-capped waves crash onto the shore. The force of the waves is deceiving, making it feel like we’re standing at the ocean. It’s unseasonably warm, and the swirling wind hints at an approaching change. Not a cloud in the sky, the sun’s rays stretch across the blue expanse. It’s mesmerizing. I snap a photo, wanting to remember this moment.

A Deceptive Calm
The sun’s intensity creates a glassy sheen on the water’s surface—a strange irony, making it look frozen, though it’s wild and alive. Looking back at the photo, it feels deceptive. It captures a peaceful, sun-soaked day, yet there’s a fury building, ready to stir and change everything around us.

The Duality of Nature: Beauty and Fury
The contrast between beauty and anger leaves me unsettled, wondering what’s coming next.

Breathing Easier in the Crisp Air

The crisp air is both inviting and refreshing—I can breathe easier, feel more, without that suffocating heaviness. I welcome these fall days, even knowing the bitter cold is on its way. There's something about the clarity in the air, a coolness that cuts right through to my core. The thick, humid air that came before clung to the skin, wrapping around it like a damp blanket, clouding the mind and dragging your focus elsewhere. But this shift, this cool change, is a relief. It lets me breathe, lets me just be here, in this moment.

The Weight of Change: A New Season, A New Chapter
Being present, though, isn’t as simple as it sounds. I feel unsteady, unmoored in this new chapter where so much depends on me—both in my career and my personal life. I’m not quite sure where I’m steering this yet. Part of me wants to look ahead, but anxiety swirls, much like the humid air did, clouding my thoughts.

Navigating Uncertainty: Career and Life at a Crossroads
I wake up at night, my head pounding, replaying moments from the past few weeks, wondering if I made the right calls. I question how others perceive me, how they'll respond. I’m stuck in this cycle of second-guessing, unable to let go of what I can't change. But I know I have to. I have to release the weight of other people's opinions and focus on my own voice. I need to speak my truth, fearlessly.

Letting Go of the Past: Finding My Voice
Change is here, deep in my bones. I feel the cool breeze wrap around me as leaves float and fall through the air. A small yellow leaf lands on my keyboard—golden and fingernail-sized, its corner missing, torn away by the wind or perhaps brittle from time. It feels like a sign. A reminder to surrender to this change, imperfections and all. To let things unfold as they will.

A Sign in the Leaves: Embracing Imperfection
The suffocating weight has lifted. I can finally breathe again, fully, with all my senses—and that's something I won't let go of.

Breaking Free from the Shadows

The Weight of Emptiness

I am angry. I feel abandoned. I feel alone. I feel like no one cares. I’ve never had such a burning sensation of worthlessness or been so unsure of how I fit into the grand scheme of things. I just don’t know where I’m supposed to go or what I’m supposed to be. Everything feels gray and uncertain.

Trapped in Stagnation

I hate the uncertainty. I hate not knowing and feeling stuck. I guess that’s it – I just feel stuck, unfilled, and lost in my own thoughts. Why do I always feel this way? Why is there never any clarity? Why can’t I just let myself go and ‘just be’ in the moment?

The Battle with Self

There’s always something holding me back, something preventing me from realizing who I really want to be. I know who that person is. I’ve known the whole time, but I’ve never allowed myself to truly understand what that person wants. I’ve always pushed that part of myself away to meet the needs of others and to be who they want me to be.

The Mirror’s Whisper

In the process, I’ve looked at myself in the mirror and whispered, "I hate myself." It’s almost an unconscious thought that rises to the surface, living in the empty space. It’s as if saying it out loud will justify how I’m feeling. Sometimes I don’t even know I’m saying it. It’s that voice on my shoulder, always reminding me that I’m not good enough, not smart enough, not resilient enough, or extroverted enough to influence anything. I feel forgotten, ignored, or pushed aside.

The Turning Point

But I have to remember that it’s me making that happen. I’m letting people get inside my head and influence how I feel about myself. I have to stop this.

Reclaiming Joy and Purpose

I have to find a way out. I have to learn how to be me – the version of me that brings joy, not the version that lives in this seething self-hate. That person I hate doesn’t actually exist.

Becoming Whole Again

It’s time to let go of others’ expectations and finally become the person I’m meant to be. To find clarity, joy, and peace, I have to rediscover the real me.

Morning Symphony: A Dance of Sound and Silence

The Chorus Begins: Nature's Melody and the Blue Jay's Call

A bird chirps softly in the nearby tree, its delicate song almost lost in the raucous cackle of a squawking blue jay perched above. The humming of crickets drifts in and out, never holding the same rhythm for long. There's a kind of comfort in the unpredictability of it, a reminder that not everything needs to make sense to be beautiful. Piercing through the noise, a quieter, higher-pitched chirp manages to reach me. Over and over, a crow caws in the distance, but still, those endearing little chirps linger. I smile, imagining a bird stubbornly refusing to be drowned out.

Urban Interference: The Battle Between Nature and Noise

And then, the inevitable – the freeway hum. It creeps in, louder and louder, intruding on this tiny moment of peace. How often do we miss these moments because we’re so used to the noise? Yet somehow, the birds keep chirping, maybe in conversation with each other. Are they just as aware of us as we are of them? A light breeze stirs the porch curtains, cool but damp, like the air before a storm. The chirps seem closer now, surrounding me as the breeze picks up, rattling the leaves overhead. I close my eyes for a second and just breathe it in.

Winds of Change: Gathering Clouds and Nature’s Response

Dark, patchy clouds begin to gather, casting shadows that stretch across the yard. They move slowly, almost imperceptibly, like they have all the time in the world—because they do. We’re the ones always rushing. The birds don’t care. Their repetitive, sweet chirps rise and fall, providing a soundtrack to the shifting sky. The first drop of rain hits my hand, and I find myself hoping the storm lasts longer than it probably will.

The Rhythm of the Morning: Light Breaking Through

The trees sway gently as the clouds begin to part. Just beyond the break, a flash of pink and orange peeks out, the sun stretching after a long night. But as quickly as I see it, it’s gone, swallowed up by the trees. The birds are quieter now, their distant songs mingling with the faint sound of a creature I can’t see. There’s something comforting about it—the way the world keeps going, even when we’re not watching.

Fading Notes: The Scents and Sounds of Dawn

The air smells damp, a mix of wet grass and leaves. That familiar, squeaky bird call rises again, cutting through the hum of crickets and distant freeway noise. The sky lightens, not in some grand, dramatic shift but slowly, almost like it’s giving us time to catch up. I wonder how many mornings I’ve missed like this, too distracted by my to-do list or my phone.

A New Day’s Whisper: The Awakening Breeze and Arrival of Light

The breeze that follows is gentle but brisk, rustling the trees and sending a shiver down my arms. I wrap my sweater tighter and let the coolness settle on my skin. There’s something pure about mornings like this—before the world fully wakes up, before we start filling the day with all our noise. I hold on to this moment a little longer, knowing how quickly it will pass.

Igniting a Journey of Self-Discovery

The Cycle of Self-Criticism

Breaking Free from the Burden of Perfection

Throughout my entire life, I've been relentlessly hard on myself. Breaking this cycle has proven to be an incredibly tough challenge. Whether it’s due to my identity, societal pressures, or a mix of both, I've been conditioned to believe that I must achieve countless things. Falling short often leads to feelings of emptiness, unworthiness, and a lack of purpose. I’ve always aimed to excel, striving for a level of perfection that’s exhausting and unrealistic.

In my relentless pursuit of these goals, I've neglected the present and the simple moments right in front of me. I constantly focus on what's next, consumed by worry about potential imperfections. My mind switches to autopilot, overthinking every task based on past experiences. The burden of frustration, self-doubt, and the need to please others has made me realize that I’ve never truly been living. I've spent too much time ruminating on past mistakes and worrying about others' opinions, missing out on the beauty of life’s everyday moments.

Living in the Moment

Shifting Focus from Future Worries to Present Joys

Starting this blog has been a revelation. It made me recognize the necessity for change, and I want to invite you to join me on this journey. By embracing the present and fully engaging with my senses, I’ve started to find meaning and purpose. I've realized that focusing too much on the past and future had prevented me from truly experiencing life.

The Name Connection

Finding Meaning in ‘Erin Amber’—The Power of Nature and Peace

This journey of self-discovery began when I made a connection between my name—Erin Amber—and the life I aspire to live. The name Erin translates to ‘Ireland’ or ‘green water,’ conjuring images of lush landscapes full of sensory experiences: the smell of trees and grass, the sounds of forests, and the feeling of moving through nature. I've always felt drawn to the tranquility of the woods, where I could lose myself in the world around me and feel deeply connected to my surroundings.

Interestingly, in other cultures, 'Erin' also means 'peace'—a reminder to accept life’s imperfections and find contentment in the present. It’s through our mistakes and the experiences that follow that we grow. Embracing life as it comes, without trying to control or judge it, is a struggle, but there is something liberating in simply being present.

The Essence of Amber

Preserving Life's Energy and Embracing Positive Renewal

My middle name, Amber, adds another layer of meaning. Amber embodies the life force of nature, preserving flora, insects, and small organisms in its warm, golden hues. It’s known as a stone of the sun in many cultures, symbolizing positive energy, healing, protection, and renewal. To me, amber encapsulates a single living moment for eternity, reminding us to embrace the essence of being present.

Embersoul’s Birth

Shedding What Holds Us Back to Ignite Our Inner Light

Despite the inherent significance of my name, I wasn’t living up to it. The constant drive to achieve—whether in academics, my career, or through comparisons with others—controlled my daily actions. This realization led to the birth of Embersoul. I needed to find a way to ignite the creativity and consciousness I craved to genuinely live my life. Like an ember that holds the potential for a flame, my passion for writing and artistry was there, but I struggled to kindle it meaningfully.

A Journey of Unfolding

Uncovering True Identity by Breaking Old Patterns

It wasn’t until I understood that I needed to let go of self-disappointment, doubt, envy, frustration, and anxiety that I could start living the life I desired. By embracing the moment and fully engaging with my senses, I’ve begun to uncover my true identity—one not marred by rules, judgment, or the pressures of society. That’s how Embersoul came to be: a journey of shedding what holds us back, breaking old patterns, and finding the strength to become who we truly aspire to be.

Embracing the ‘Now’

Finding Joy in the Present Moment

This journey is about drawing the most from each moment, not dwelling on the past or obsessing over the future. It’s about embracing 'what is' and finding joy in the present. It’s taken me a long time to arrive here, but now that I’m here, I feel a newfound joy and laughter that I hadn't experienced before.

Join the Path

An Invitation to Walk Together Towards Freedom and Fulfillment

So here I am, inviting you to join me on this journey. I hope to inspire and be inspired as we embark on this path together, discovering freedom and fulfillment in the present moment. Let’s walk this road side by side, finding liberation and contentment in the beauty of the now.