Sometimes life unfolds not as a straight line, but as a quiet tension between who we were, who we are, and who we are becoming. We move through memories, expectations, disappointments, and small rebirths. Collecting fragments of ourselves along the way. And somewhere between the weight of reality and the lightness of hope, we begin to ask the questions that shape us.
Who am I? I am a complex combination of genetics, environment, and the experiences I accumulate over time. Thoughts are not created from nothing, and identity is not a fixed structure we must accept as unchangeable. Human identity is fluid, it can shift through new experiences, intentional effort, and the brain’s natural ability to adapt. Our behaviors, too, are shaped by capacity that the skills we have, the resources we can access, and the conditions we grow within. When capacity expands, behavior changes, when behavior changes, identity follows. In this way, nothing about us is truly static. Everything is open to evolve, and it is up to us whether that change moves backward, stays consistent, or grows into a better version of who we are. Just as the Red Queen reminds us that you sometimes have to run twice as fast just to stay in the same place, evolution often requires intentional effort, adaptation, and the willingness to renew ourselves. In a changing world, staying the same already demands energy and evolving simply asks for that energy to be used wisely.
Who am I becoming? Understanding whether we are improving is not simple. In biology, linear progress is uncommon. evolution often follows a fluctuating pattern; rising and falling like waves. What matters is not each individual point, but the overall trend over time. If the long-term trend is upward, if we are gradually becoming more capable, more aware, or more grounded, then we are progressing. Our starting points differ, but that is not the issue. External validation is unnecessary, even though society constantly pushes us toward it. Comparison itself is not harmful, but the most meaningful comparison is with our past selves, not with others. Observing our own trajectory is essential for understanding life. Our perspective on life continuously changes. In our search for meaning, we often ask whether something is right or wrong. But many aspects of life, especially emotional and existential ones are not defined by absolute truths. They depend on perspective, context, and interpretation. Happiness, too, is not a permanent state but a temporary experience. Life is not about achieving constant happiness. It is about accepting that joy and difficulty will both occur. When we are happy, worrying about its end creates additional suffering. Acceptance allows us to say: “This moment is good, and even if it does not last forever, it is enough.” Van Gogh once wrote, “The sadness will last forever.” This is not universally true or false; it is a reflection of a moment and a state of mind. One could also say, “Happiness can come again,” which is equally realistic and more hopeful. Acceptance of life as it is can be challenging, but it brings relief and reduces pain.
Why am I idealizing? Our environment (people, media, family, cultural ideals) often idealizes life. We are taught to dream big, achieve extraordinary things, and tie our happiness to major accomplishments or perfect relationships. But even if someone reaches high levels of success, works in prestigious places, gains admiration, or surrounds themselves with impressive people, they may still feel empty. Happiness does not depend primarily on grand achievements or external conditions. It arises from internal stability and meaningful small experiences. Life is not about constantly chasing the biggest or the most extraordinary moments. It is about learning to remain present even in discomfort and finding value in simplicity. It is about appreciating small things; watching a leaf fall, eating ordinary food, walking at sunset, or sharing life with someone imperfect. We are all imperfect, we will make many mistakes. The goal is not to avoid mistakes but to learn from them. Growth often includes discomfort, but not all discomfort leads to growth. What matters is engaging with challenges that align with our values, while also giving ourselves the space and kindness we need to grow in a genuine way.
What am I seeking? When I was younger, I imagined the world, career, and relationships very differently. Each time my expectations clashed with reality, I felt disappointed. I developed a form of defensive pessimism, overestimating negative outcomes in an attempt to feel protected. I closed myself off even more. I thought it was safer. Yet it was not enough, it is just a survival mode. It clashed with reality again and again over time. And it won’t be easy to realize this, let alone to do something to change it. Just watching things slip beyond my control, again and again. It is not a good idea to be a pessimist, yet on the other hand, being an optimist is not enough either. Finding the middle ground is crucial to developing resilience. Over time, I learned that idealizing life whether love, career, or the future creates a gap between expectations and reality, and that gap becomes pain. Dreams are natural and necessary, but when they detach from reality, they become sources of suffering. Staying grounded, dreaming without escaping the real world, and seeing things as they truly are protects us from unnecessary disappointment. Avoiding idealization does not mean suppressing dreams. It means holding dreams lightly, without letting them distance us from reality. When our hopes are flexible rather than rigid, life becomes easier.
In the end, we are organisms shaped over millions of years of evolution, guided not by destiny but by biological adaptation and learned patterns. Our cells renew, our synapses reorganize, and even the stories we tell ourselves slowly change their form. Change is not only emotional; it is physiological, measurable, alive. And beneath it all, emotions quietly play their part, offering us the courage to try again.
Category: Literature