Ever since I was little, I wanted one thing: to function like a normal person. But the harder I tried, the less it worked. Everyone else seemed to know what to do with their lives. I didn't. The feeling was always there. Quiet, in the background, like something I didn't want to admit.
So I tried things. I wrote music. Launched online shops. Organised festivals. I read mountains of books, tested frameworks and apps. I changed direction so many times I started to feel like a fraud. And through all of it, I secretly hoped someone would come and save me.
The problem wasn't that I didn't know what I wanted. The problem was that I lived in the future.
I didn't want to see the gap between where I was and where I wanted to be. That gap paralysed me. Instead of taking one small step, I waited for a miracle to carry me across. In the end, it led me to therapy.
My therapist kept telling me the same thing: “Your life is a mosaic. You have a great picture of how it should look. Now you have to start putting it together. Day by day.”
I hated it. I wanted a shortcut. But I had nothing left to lose, all my previous strategies had failed anyway. So I tried it. Mostly to prove to her that it didn't work.
And then something strange happened.
The moment I admitted the gap was there, I started making my biggest progress. Not because I found a better system. Because I finally started actually doing things. I started making important decisions on time. I started finishing things.
All my life I ran from “normal”. The irony is that accepting ordinary, everyday life gave me more than years of chasing something exceptional. I'm still on the way, but one thing I know for sure: I want to explore how to live a life actually lived.