(Un)scheduled

From

Name: The person I want to be

First Line of Address: Trust & Peace Lane 1 / Annex (under construction)

Country: Inner Haven

Postal code: 2BEFR33

To:

Company Name: Expected Perfection Ltd.

Name: Expected Perfection

First Line of Address: Doubtful Avenue 0

Country: Anxiety

Postal code: 8URN0U7

Dear ExpectedPerfection,

I hope this letter finds you well—or at the very least, still chasing the perfection you so relentlessly demand.

I am writing to formally resign from my position as a silent bearer of unrealistic expectations at ExpectedPerfection Ltd., effective immediately.

I am stepping away—from the ever-churning wheels of anxiety, from the busyness that masquerades as purpose, from the weight of never feeling quite enough, from the hyper independence and quiet distrust that my tainted life has etched me into.

The cost of maintaining the illusion has become far too great.

This choice does not come from haste, but from a personal sense that it is time to turn my back and begin a more peaceful chapter in life.

My journey here has been marked by challenges and growth, yes, but also shadowed at times by unwholesome thoughts, unreachable expectations, and an erosion of self-belief that gave rise to doubt and uncertainty. These trials stretched my boundaries beyond the world's comprehension. I, in turn, ignored them flawlessly, masking the damage with hollow routines, quiet self-sabotage, destructive habits.

And yet, within that crucible, I discovered strength, resilience, and unimaginable independence, I did not know I possessed. The lessons learned and the endurance gained are treasures I will carry forward with reverence and gratitude.

I am stepping away from the obsession with endless planning, from the compulsive choreography of calendars and the relentless pursuit of control.

From waking at 3 a.m. in the name of productivity, stretching work and study hours beyond what is humane or whole.

I will refrain from counting - numbers and miles, metres and centimetres, calories and categories, labels worn like skin.

I am stepping away from the fixation on being thin—on being small—and instead, I am turning toward someone I long to recognize. Someone at ease in her skin. Someone joyful. Someone free.

I now measure worth not in kilograms or inches, or hours and minutes, but in how fast someone makes my heart race and how effortlessly my smile lights up.

I am stepping away from running on fumes— from the illusion that achievement alone will bring happiness.

I resign from the weight of others’ opinions that once shaped me, and from the self-hatred I let bloom in response.

I have lived in the in-between worlds, torn and adrift in mechanical routines, trying to bottle unfiltered ever so painful memories, mechanically stacking them away in silence, while drifting passively through life.

There is a quiet grief in letting go – not of the work itself, but of the version of me who believed endurance was the only way to earn love. I mourn her: the girl who equated word with productivity, who whispered apologies to her existence, who wore resilience like armor and called it strength.

I never meant to be a shadow of expectation. I aim to unlearn the language of self-neglect, peeling off layers of performance, letting silence speak where noise once ruled. I am no longer available for emotional starvation in the name of approval.

Believe it or not, there is freedom in no longer performing. In waking without dread. In living without measuring. In learning to exist without explanation and to take up space without apology. It is a true Mastery.

From now on, I choose slow mornings over rushed appointments, where thoughts used to scream in a turbulent flow, connection over comparison, softness over sharpness. I choose to feel not only function. Relaxation and a deep devotion to the things I love, will now fill my days with. My “calendar” will no longer be ruled by pressure, but by curiosity and joy.

Moments that were once subtle, overlooked, and quietly passing, I will now pause to notice and to capture.

My actions and thoughts are no longer set in stone or scheduled. They are mine to shape, soften, or release.

I no longer wish to survive on empty ambition, fuelled by impatience, chasing accolades that leave me hollow.

Instead, I want to be the kind of person who feeds on memories, not milestones. Someone who is nourished by experience, grounded in the presence, and alive in the quiet moments that don't make it onto a résumé.

Please try to understand, this is neither surrender nor escape. This is the aftermath of years trying to blend in, while standing out, trying to keep the peace, while chaos turned my world upside down.

What began with ambition slowly dissolved into exhaustion and my addiction to exhaustion. In trying to meet every expectation, I lost sight of my own. And so, with a mixture of sadness, clarity, and newfound self-compassion, I choose peace over performance, presence over perfection.

This departure is not a dramatic exit, but a soft exhale.

With sincerity and self-return,

Whoever I Want to Be