It wasn’t until I turned thirty that I’ve posed myself a question I should’ve asked a long time before.
What makes me happy?
As I thought of an answer I was both shocked and relieved. It was a simple question but for the first time in my life I was at a loss for words, maybe because I never allowed myself to follow true happiness. Not in the way I should’ve, at least. For years I walked on paths that should’ve been right but were clearly based on how others perceived me, or what they expected of me. Maybe it was about what I expected out of myself and that expectation itself was skewed severely. So I thought about the true person that lived behind the roles I needed to play in my everyday life. That’s when I felt relieved, too. For the first time I allowed myself to consider what made me happy—and that felt great. […READ MORE]