The Day I Finally Met Myself

𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 — 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗜 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗻’𝘁 𝗥𝘂𝗻 𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗠𝘆𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗔𝗻𝘆𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲

There are days you remember because something big happened to you.

And then there are days you remember because something big happened within you.

For most of my life, I kept moving—working, helping others, solving things that weren’t mine to fix, pretending I was fine even when I felt like I was falling apart from the inside out. I thought staying busy was the same as being okay.

Then one morning, everything inside me finally stopped… and I realized I had been avoiding the one person I needed to face: myself.

That was the day I finally met the person I had been running from.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t loud.

It was soft, honest, and strangely peaceful.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗟𝗲𝗱 𝗠𝗲 𝗕𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗧𝗼 𝗠𝗲

It happened on a Sunday—a slow, unimportant Sunday.

I woke up feeling tired in a way sleep couldn’t fix. It wasn’t my body. It was my heart.

So I did something I rarely allowed myself to do:

I sat.

No music.

No scrolling.

No pretending.

Just me in a quiet room, with sunlight slipping through the curtains.

The silence felt uncomfortable at first, like sitting with a stranger.

And in a way… I was.

For the first time in years, I asked myself,

“How are you—really?”

And something inside me cracked open.

Not in a painful way—more like a locked door that had been waiting too long.

I realized I didn’t know myself anymore.

I knew my responsibilities.

I knew my mistakes.

I knew my fears.

But me?

I had no idea.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗜 𝗡𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗘𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱

I placed my hand on my chest, feeling my heartbeat—steady, patient, loyal.

It hit me: my body had been carrying me through every hard thing, even the ones I pretended didn’t hurt.

Every disappointment.

Every fear.

Every quiet breakdown.

Every moment of pretending to be strong.

And I whispered,

“I’m sorry.”

Sorry for ignoring my needs.

Sorry for pushing myself past the point of exhaustion.

Sorry for treating myself with less kindness than I gave others.

That small apology turned into a quiet conversation with the person inside me who had been waiting to be heard.

I asked what I needed.

I asked what hurt.

I asked what I truly wanted—not what people expected, not what looked good from the outside, but what my soul was begging for.

It felt like meeting an old friend after years of losing touch.

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗜 𝗙𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗜 𝗟𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗜𝗻𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱

I discovered things I didn’t expect—soft, fragile truths I had buried under responsibilities and routines.

I was tired of being strong all the time.

I missed my creativity.

I wanted to feel loved without earning it.

I wanted to rest without guilt.

I wanted to stop surviving and start living again.

These weren’t dramatic confessions.

They were honest ones.

And honesty is what finally opened the door to meeting myself.

I realized I wasn’t the person I had been years ago… and that was okay.

I wasn’t supposed to be.

Growth had changed me.

Pain had shaped me.

But loss, healing, and hope had softened my edges in ways I hadn’t noticed.

For the first time, I wasn’t judging myself.

I was understanding myself.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗣𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗜 𝗙𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗜𝗻 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗪𝗵𝗼 𝗜 𝗪𝗮𝘀

Meeting myself wasn’t about becoming perfect.

It wasn’t about fixing every flaw or magically overcoming every fear.

It was about acceptance.

I accepted that I didn’t have everything figured out.

I accepted that slowing down wasn’t failure.

I accepted that taking care of myself wasn’t selfish.

I accepted that I deserved gentleness—from others, yes, but also from me.

For the first time in years, I looked in the mirror and didn’t just see my reflection.

I saw someone worth caring for.

Someone worth listening to.

Someone worth loving.

And that changed everything.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗗𝗮𝘆 𝗜 𝗠𝗲𝘁 𝗠𝘆𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳… 𝗜 𝗖𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗠𝘆𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳

Since that day, life hasn’t been perfect—but it has been real.

I still get overwhelmed.

I still doubt myself.

I still have moments where I stumble back into old habits.

But now I know how to come back home to myself.

I check in.

I pause.

I breathe.

I listen.

And most importantly…

I choose myself even when life pulls me in a hundred directions.

Because the day I finally met myself wasn’t a moment of transformation—it was a moment of truth.

A moment that whispered,

“You deserve to be seen… even by you.”

𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 — 𝗪𝗲 𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲 𝗧𝗼 𝗠𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗢𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲𝘀

If you’ve never paused long enough to meet the person living inside your own skin, maybe today is the day.

Not the perfect version of you.

Not the strong one, the busy one, or the one who has everything under control.

But the real you.

The tender, tired, hopeful you.

The you who deserves love, rest, and truth.

Meeting yourself is not selfish.

It is the beginning of becoming whole.

And trust me—once you meet the real you,

you will wonder why you waited so long.

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Thank You For Reading...

Regards: Fazal Hadi