All I ever wanted was to live, to breathe freely, to be seen for who I truly am. Not the version people expect me to be, not the image they create from their own assumptions, but me—the raw, unpolished, vulnerable me. Yet life rarely gives us what we want in the way we want it. Instead, it teaches us through struggle, through pain, through the echoes of criticism, hate, failure, and even the fragile sweetness of love and happiness.
For as long as I can remember, I have felt the weight of being misunderstood. People look, people talk, people assume. They see the surface but never the soul. And sometimes their words cut deeper than any knife. Criticism dressed as concern. Judgment disguised as advice. Hate hidden behind fake smiles. There were days when I thought those voices would drown me. Days when I wondered if I was truly worth anything at all.
But somewhere between the breaking and the healing, I began to understand something: every wound, every failure, every hateful word has shaped me. And though I carry scars, those scars tell the story of survival.
Struggles That Became My Teachers
Life has never been a straight line for me. Every step forward seemed to be followed by a push back. I struggled with dreams that slipped through my fingers just when I thought I was close. I struggled with the silence of nights where my prayers felt unanswered. I struggled with the weight of expectations I could never meet.
Struggle became my companion. At first, I resented it. I wanted comfort, ease, certainty. But struggle kept coming back, reminding me that growth does not come through ease. Growth is born in the fire. And I, whether I liked it or not, was being forged in that fire.
There were times when I cried out, “Why me, God? Why so much pain, why so much heaviness?” I received no immediate answer. But looking back, I see now that my struggles were never punishment. They were preparation. They were the chisels that shaped me into who I am becoming.
Life has never been a straight line for me. Every step forward seemed to be followed by a push back. I struggled with dreams that slipped through my fingers just when I thought I was close. I struggled with the silence of nights where my prayers felt unanswered. I struggled with the weight of expectations I could never meet.
Struggle became my companion. At first, I resented it. I wanted comfort, ease, certainty. But struggle kept coming back, reminding me that growth does not come through ease. Growth is born in the fire. And I, whether I liked it or not, was being forged in that fire.
There were times when I cried out, “Why me, God? Why so much pain, why so much heaviness?” I received no immediate answer. But looking back, I see now that my struggles were never punishment. They were preparation. They were the chisels that shaped me into who I am becoming.
The Weight of Human Criticism
If there is one thing I have learned, it is that people will always have something to say. They will criticize your failures, and when you succeed, they will criticize even louder. There is no winning with the world.
I remember the sting of being told I would never make it. The echo of laughter when I fell short. The whispers that questioned my worth, my abilities, my very existence. Words hurt. They stay lodged in the heart long after the voices have gone silent.
But criticism taught me resilience. It taught me that the value of my life cannot be determined by the opinions of others. I began to see criticism as a mirror—not of me, but of them. Their words reflected their own fears, their own insecurities, their own limitations. And slowly, I started to free myself from the prison of their expectations.
If there is one thing I have learned, it is that people will always have something to say. They will criticize your failures, and when you succeed, they will criticize even louder. There is no winning with the world.
I remember the sting of being told I would never make it. The echo of laughter when I fell short. The whispers that questioned my worth, my abilities, my very existence. Words hurt. They stay lodged in the heart long after the voices have gone silent.
But criticism taught me resilience. It taught me that the value of my life cannot be determined by the opinions of others. I began to see criticism as a mirror—not of me, but of them. Their words reflected their own fears, their own insecurities, their own limitations. And slowly, I started to free myself from the prison of their expectations.
Hate That Tried to Break Me
Hate is a heavy thing. I have felt it in the eyes of those who could not stand my presence, in the actions of those who wished to see me fail, in the silence of those who pretended not to see me at all. Hate made me question love. It made me wonder if I was destined to always be the target of resentment and misunderstanding.
But hate also taught me compassion. Because behind hate, there is always pain. Hurt people hurt people. And though their hate tried to break me, it also reminded me that my heart must choose differently. I could not let their darkness dictate who I would become.
Hate is a heavy thing. I have felt it in the eyes of those who could not stand my presence, in the actions of those who wished to see me fail, in the silence of those who pretended not to see me at all. Hate made me question love. It made me wonder if I was destined to always be the target of resentment and misunderstanding.
But hate also taught me compassion. Because behind hate, there is always pain. Hurt people hurt people. And though their hate tried to break me, it also reminded me that my heart must choose differently. I could not let their darkness dictate who I would become.
Failure That Broke My Pride
Failure and I are old companions. I have fallen more times than I care to admit. Failed dreams. Failed relationships. Failed attempts to live up to my own impossible standards. Failure humbles you. It strips away illusions. It makes you face yourself honestly.
At first, I hated failure. I saw it as proof that I was not enough. But slowly, I began to see failure differently. Failure was not the end. It was a teacher. It whispered lessons I could not have learned any other way. Lessons about patience, persistence, humility, and courage.
Failure taught me that success is not about never falling—it is about always rising again.
Failure and I are old companions. I have fallen more times than I care to admit. Failed dreams. Failed relationships. Failed attempts to live up to my own impossible standards. Failure humbles you. It strips away illusions. It makes you face yourself honestly.
At first, I hated failure. I saw it as proof that I was not enough. But slowly, I began to see failure differently. Failure was not the end. It was a teacher. It whispered lessons I could not have learned any other way. Lessons about patience, persistence, humility, and courage.
Failure taught me that success is not about never falling—it is about always rising again.
Success That Felt Empty
The world celebrates success. It places medals on achievements, applause on milestones, praise on visible victories. I have known a measure of success. I have reached places I once thought impossible. And yet, there were moments when success felt strangely empty.
Because success without peace is hollow. Success without love is lonely. Success without purpose is meaningless.
I learned that success is not about being seen, but about being whole. It is not about the noise of applause, but the quiet knowing that you stayed true to yourself.
The world celebrates success. It places medals on achievements, applause on milestones, praise on visible victories. I have known a measure of success. I have reached places I once thought impossible. And yet, there were moments when success felt strangely empty.
Because success without peace is hollow. Success without love is lonely. Success without purpose is meaningless.
I learned that success is not about being seen, but about being whole. It is not about the noise of applause, but the quiet knowing that you stayed true to yourself.
Love That Saved Me
Amidst the storms, I have known love. Not perfect love, not always easy love, but real love. Love from God who never abandoned me even when I was at my lowest. Love from people who chose to see me beyond my flaws. Love from myself, hard-won and slow to grow, but essential.
Love saved me from despair. It reminded me that even in the face of criticism, hate, and failure, I am still worthy of kindness, still worthy of connection, still worthy of being here.
Love does not erase pain, but it softens it. It does not take away the struggles, but it makes them bearable. Love is the thread that binds all the broken pieces together.
Amidst the storms, I have known love. Not perfect love, not always easy love, but real love. Love from God who never abandoned me even when I was at my lowest. Love from people who chose to see me beyond my flaws. Love from myself, hard-won and slow to grow, but essential.
Love saved me from despair. It reminded me that even in the face of criticism, hate, and failure, I am still worthy of kindness, still worthy of connection, still worthy of being here.
Love does not erase pain, but it softens it. It does not take away the struggles, but it makes them bearable. Love is the thread that binds all the broken pieces together.
Happiness That Surprised Me
I used to think happiness was something far away—something to chase, something to earn, something that only came after success. But I have found happiness in unexpected places. In the laughter of a friend. In a sunrise after a sleepless night. In the small victories no one else sees.
Happiness surprised me because it was never about perfect circumstances. It was about perspective. It was about gratitude. It was about learning to find light even in the shadows.
I used to think happiness was something far away—something to chase, something to earn, something that only came after success. But I have found happiness in unexpected places. In the laughter of a friend. In a sunrise after a sleepless night. In the small victories no one else sees.
Happiness surprised me because it was never about perfect circumstances. It was about perspective. It was about gratitude. It was about learning to find light even in the shadows.
All I Ever Wanted
All I ever wanted was peace in my heart, truth in my soul, love in my life. I thought it would come through success, through approval, through recognition. But I see now that it comes through something much deeper.
It comes through embracing the struggles, learning from the criticism, rising from the failures, forgiving the hate, cherishing the love, and recognizing the fragile gift of happiness in everyday moments.
Life has not been easy, but it has been real. And in its rawness, I have discovered myself. Broken, yes. Scarred, yes. But also alive, still standing, still believing.
All I ever wanted was to be whole. And maybe, just maybe, through all of this—through the struggle, the pain, the love, the joy—I am learning that wholeness is not the absence of brokenness, but the acceptance of it.
All I ever wanted was peace in my heart, truth in my soul, love in my life. I thought it would come through success, through approval, through recognition. But I see now that it comes through something much deeper.
It comes through embracing the struggles, learning from the criticism, rising from the failures, forgiving the hate, cherishing the love, and recognizing the fragile gift of happiness in everyday moments.
Life has not been easy, but it has been real. And in its rawness, I have discovered myself. Broken, yes. Scarred, yes. But also alive, still standing, still believing.
All I ever wanted was to be whole. And maybe, just maybe, through all of this—through the struggle, the pain, the love, the joy—I am learning that wholeness is not the absence of brokenness, but the acceptance of it.