Sometimes life happens in ways we don’t want to accept. Things go wrong, plans fail, and suddenly we’re left trying to understand how everything changed so fast. Instead of accepting it, we look for something to blame. It feels easier than sitting with the truth.

Blaming others, situations, or even ourselves gives a short sense of relief. But it doesn’t fix anything. It only delays the moment when we have to face reality. Life doesn’t always wait for us to be ready, and it doesn’t explain itself either.

Acceptance is hard. It takes honesty and courage. But once we stop blaming, we begin to heal. We learn, we grow, and slowly we move forward not because life became easy, but because we became stronger.

Sometimes life just happens. And learning to accept it may be one of the hardest, yet most important, lessons we ever learn.

Being on my own is like staring at a mirror I’ve avoided for years. I see all the versions of me I built just to be loved, each one stitched together with fear and hope. There’s the me that laughs too loud at jokes I don’t even find funny, the me that always want to be of help to people ,the me that bottles up my feelings so I don't seem as sensitive and emotional, I see the me who has bent, hidden, and quieted herself in ways no one else will ever notice.

‎And now, alone, those versions have nowhere to hide. They stand in front of me, raw and trembling, asking the same question I’ve been too scared to ask myself: Who am I when no one is clapping, laughing, noticing, or validating me?

‎Some days, it hurts so much it feels like I’m dissolving. I’m not used to being seen by my own eyes. I’m not used to being enough without performing, without editing, without shrinking. But in the silence, in the ache of being truly alone, I start to hear something. A small, stubborn voice that says: This version of you ;the one who cries in the dark, who sits quietly without explanation, who just exists is real. And maybe just maybe that’s enough.

‎It doesn’t erase the years I spent pretending. It doesn’t erase the masks, the laughs, the fast replies, the hidden pain. But it gives me something I’ve never had before: a chance to recognize myself, to hold myself, and maybe, just maybe, to start being loved by the person who matters most . ME

‎M24