Unwritten Rules, Unlived Life

I used to believe life came with a checklist.

Graduate with honors. Check.

Get a stable job. Check.

Marry by thirty. Check.

Buy a house. Have kids. Work hard. Retire. Die.

It was what I was raised to do—what my parents, teachers, and even peers encouraged. But what happens when the checklist doesn't match your heart?

I found out at twenty-nine, standing in my perfectly furnished apartment, holding a steaming cup of coffee, and realizing I was living someone else’s dream.

The Dream That Wasn’t Mine

On paper, I had everything: a degree in finance, a well-paying job at a reputable firm, and a long-term relationship with someone my family adored. But inside, I was hollow.

My days were a blur of spreadsheets and meetings, my nights filled with quiet dread. I wasn’t unhappy because anything was terribly wrong—I was unhappy because everything was too right, too expected, too scripted.

What I really wanted—what I had buried deep down since college—was to write.

Not emails. Not reports. Stories. Scripts. Characters who lived inside my head, waiting for permission to be heard.

But writing wasn’t practical. It wasn’t stable. It wasn’t safe. And so, I had pushed it aside. Until that morning when the silence inside me became louder than the noise around me.

The Breaking Point

The final nudge came at my friend Rachel's wedding. During dinner, an old classmate asked me, "So, what do you do?"

I rattled off my job title, and he smiled politely. Then he turned to another guest—a woman who introduced herself as a documentary filmmaker. She spoke passionately about her latest project, her eyes lit up like she was describing her favorite adventure.

I listened with envy. Not because of her success, but because she sounded alive.

That night, I cried. Not because I was jealous. Because I realized I'd never spoken about my own life that way. I was living comfortably, but not courageously.

Taking the Leap

It took months of internal wrestling, dozens of journal entries, and a very honest conversation with my partner before I finally did the unthinkable: I quit my job.

There was no trust fund, no guaranteed path forward. Just savings, stubbornness, and a fire in my gut that told me I couldn’t keep betraying myself.

I enrolled in a screenwriting course, started freelance writing to pay bills, and moved into a smaller apartment. The transition was messy. Friends questioned me. My parents panicked. I doubted myself every other day.

But slowly, I started to breathe again.

Redefining Success

The first time I saw my name in the credits of a short film, I wept. Not because it was a big deal to anyone else, but because I finally felt seen—by myself.

I wasn’t making six figures anymore. I wasn’t climbing a corporate ladder. But I was waking up excited, going to bed proud, and living each day on my terms.

Success, I realized, wasn’t about applause or approval. It was about alignment. When your values, passions, and actions line up—even imperfectly—that’s success.

Lessons Learned

Breaking free from societal expectations wasn’t a one-time act of rebellion. It was a series of quiet, difficult decisions:

Saying no to a life that looked good but felt wrong.

Disappointing others to stay true to myself.

Starting small and being okay with imperfection.

And most importantly:

Giving myself permission to rewrite the story I was told to live.

The Now

Today, I write full-time. Some months are lean, others are abundant. But every word I write reminds me that I chose this path—not out of fear, but out of faith in who I could become.

I still get emails from old colleagues, some curious, some inspired. A few have told me my story gave them courage to question their own paths.

And that, to me, is the greatest reward.

The Moral of the Story

You don’t have to live the life that others expect of you. You owe it to yourself to explore what sets your soul on fire—even if it means taking the long, uncertain road.

Society will always have its rules, but you get to choose which ones to follow. Or better yet, write your own.

Because a life lived by someone else’s blueprint might be safe—but it won’t be yours.

So choose yourself. Even if your voice shakes. Even if no one claps. Especially then.

You only get one story. Make sure you're the one writing it.

Thank you for reading...

Regards: Fazal Hadi