safe haven.

[Enola]

When we were younger, we thought it’s too sweet to become adult.

We rushed. Telling ourselves “I can’t wait to grow up” at 8 years old. thinking it meant freedom , more money, and making our own choices. But nobody told us what comes with freedom are endless responsibilities — bills, work pressure, family expectations, and emotional breakdown that we need to hide because we don’t have time to feel it.

Saying “no hardwork, no gain in life” as if REST is a crime.

Adulting isn’t just about growing older, it’s about figuring things out while balancing everything else.

Nobody really taught us how to manage money, how to heal from burnout, or how to stay mentally sane while working full time.
No one really explained how lonely it could get sometimes, even though you’re surrounded by people you called loved ones.
It’s like you always have to go after something — deadlines, goals or next step in life. Sometimes, although you did everything it still feels like you’re not doing enough. Too frustrating. Too draining.

But the truth is, you’re not alone. Every adult feels confused too, tired and making mistakes. And that’s okay. Adulting isn’t a race, and no one has it all figured out. So instead of pressuring yourself to have everything together, do things one day at a time.

Celebrate the small wins.
Whether it’s surviving the week or simply getting out of bed despite everything.


On the hindsight, I get to learn things.
Slowing down isn’t about wasting time.

Sometimes we need to listen to whatever our inner voice whispered to us.



~.

 

[Thegodfather]

This hit deep. It’s so true how we romanticized adulthood as kids — imagining freedom without realizing the weight it carries. No one prepared us for the emotional toll, the loneliness, or the constant pressure to "have it all together."

But reading this is a good reminder that it’s okay to slow down, to not have all the answers, and to take life one step at a time. Rest is not a crime, and neither is feeling lost.

We’re all learning. And yes — every small win counts. Thanks for this heartfelt reminder.

 

[Enola]

I’ve spent so much of my life trying to shrink myself.
To be quieter, less emotional, less me— because somewhere along the way I learned that being noticed meant being judged.
Or worse? being hurt.

Too much of that I realized I lost touched of who I was until I found out about a side of me from a video tape documented by my grandfather.

The ‘little princess’of the family, the life of the party. At least. the thing I witnessed from the videos. Yet life happened. Like a glass it shattered.

So now, when someone tells me something kind, like “you’re enough” or “you did great” —my chest tightens. I smile yeah but my heart whispers, they’re wrong.

Because how can I believe in something I was never taught to accept? Or at least have forgotten along the way.

I grew up tiptoeing around moods, trying not to be a burden. I learnt to grieve in secret. Like what I felt didnt matter.
I learnt to survive, not to receive.
So compliments? Affection? Safe love?
They feel foreign.
Like they’re meant for someone else, not me.

But I want to believe.
I want to get to a place where
a kind word doesn’t feels fake
where a kind gesture doesn’t make me want to cry or run away.
I’m learning…
because maybe the hardest thing isn’t hearing
“You matter”.

Maybe the hardest thing is finally believing it.

And that it is okay to write this down.

And that the videotape of my childhood— that girl needs to be out of the darkness and be joyful again.

She deserves happiness.

 

[Rasputin_M]

I’ve spent so much of my life trying to shrink myself.
To be quieter, less emotional, less me— because somewhere along the way I learned that being noticed meant being judged.
Or worse? being hurt.

Too much of that I realized I lost touched of who I was until I found out about a side of me from a video tape documented by my grandfather.

The ‘little princess’of the family, the life of the party. At least. the thing I witnessed from the videos. Yet life happened. Like a glass it shattered.

So now, when someone tells me something kind, like “you’re enough” or “you did great” —my chest tightens. I smile yeah but my heart whispers, they’re wrong.

Because how can I believe in something I was never taught to accept? Or at least have forgotten along the way.

I grew up tiptoeing around moods, trying not to be a burden. I learnt to grieve in secret. Like what I felt didnt matter.
I learnt to survive, not to receive.
So compliments? Affection? Safe love?
They feel foreign.
Like they’re meant for someone else, not me.

But I want to believe.
I want to get to a place where
a kind word doesn’t feels fake
where a kind gesture doesn’t make me want to cry or run away.
I’m learning…
because maybe the hardest thing isn’t hearing
“You matter”.

Maybe the hardest thing is finally believing it.

And that it is okay to write this down.

And that the videotape of my childhood— that girl needs to be out of the darkness and be joyful again.

She deserves happiness.

Hello and good evening Ms. .I feel your pain but at the same time you have to be a fighter. Your grandpa's tape motivated you. Please remember no one will push you in life if you don't do it yourself. Life is a battle honestly , so either you fight or you give up. Choice is yours. I would say you are already fighting hence a fighter and a warrior Ms. . Sorry I am not preaching but I know you can do it Ms. so move one and achieve what you want. Cheers!!! and God bless.