LIFE UNEDITED - SZN:1/EP - 1

I am the youngest daughter of a small family. The one who always wished to disappear, the one who noticed even the smallest details unfolding at home, the silent observer. The one who always felt like something was missing like no one truly saw the weight I carried — hidden behind my quiet nature and attempts to overachieve. I wanted so badly to do everything right, to be perfect, to prove to the world that I was more than just the youngest. But the harder I tried, the more I felt lost.

I’ve always longed for independence, yet sometimes wished it was all just a dream. There were days I cried myself to sleep, unsure of who I was or what I was meant to be. The pressure to be something — someone — beyond what I could manage overwhelmed me. Every failure, every day that didn’t go the way I imagined, added to the pile of doubts I carried in my heart.

People would look at me and assume my life was perfect, especially since I was the youngest. They’d say, “You don’t have to do anything at home, right?” But is it really that simple? Is it because I’m younger that my voice doesn’t matter, that my struggles aren’t seen, that my pain goes unnoticed?

Children are supposed to have the most beautiful childhood, but mine wasn’t what I hoped for. It’s a chapter I don’t wish to revisit. The days when everything felt heavy, the nights when I cried in silence, too exhausted to fight for what I wanted. Sometimes, the memories weigh me down so much, it feels like I’m still stuck in that place.

As I’ve grown, I’ve realized that being financially independent is the first step toward achieving my dream life. It’s the key to proving to others, and more importantly to myself, that I’m capable of more. But I don’t just want to prove people wrong. I want to prove to myself that I’m strong enough to rise above it all.

My childhood may not have been ideal — in fact, I wish it were different for everyone. But it’s gone. The hardest part is letting go of it. The hardest part is accepting that those days are over, and all that’s left is the present. I’ve reached another stage in my life. The only thing I can do now is create my future. It won’t be easy, but it’ll be mine.

Why should I cling to a part of my life when everything around me has changed? Why hold on to people, memories, or expectations that left long ago? Life doesn’t press pause. It doesn’t wait for you to fix what’s broken. It doesn’t hold your hand through the storms. Life doesn’t wait for someone to return, so why should I waste tears on people who’ve already walked away?

I’ve learned that you don’t know if you’ll wake up tomorrow. Our time is short, and we waste so much of it clinging to things that don’t serve us. We hold onto regrets, overthink our mistakes, and fight battles that are already over. What if we just let go? What if we let go of the things that no longer serve us, the people who never truly saw our worth? What if we moved on without needing closure, without needing answers, without needing apologies?

The biggest lesson I learned last year wasn’t just to move forward. It was to stop apologizing for who I am, to stop trying to please others, and to stop holding myself back. The biggest lesson I learned was to move on from everything and everyone that doesn’t deserve me. It’s time to stop living in the past, to stop waiting for someone to validate my worth.

I’ve come to realize that I owe it to myself to live unapologetically. I owe it to myself to break free from the expectations placed on me, to stop carrying the burdens of a past I can’t change. I deserve to create a future that’s built on my terms, not on the weight of past mistakes or the judgment of others.