You Don’t Lose Yourself. You Hand Yourself Over in Pieces.
You don’t wake up one day and realize you’re gone.
You don’t collapse.
You comply.
The first time I remember handing over a piece of myself, it looked responsible.
People I respected told me to choose something safe.
A degree that would travel well.
A career that would always have a job attached to it.
It made sense.
Security. Stability. Approval.
So I said yes.
Not because it felt right.
Because it felt smart.
There’s a difference.
I got almost all the way through it before I allowed myself to admit the truth.
I hated it.
Not dramatically.
Not rebelliously.
Quietly.
I finished assignments.
I showed up.
I performed well enough.
From the outside, it looked disciplined.
On the inside, I was shrinking.
That choice didn’t ruin my life.
It reshaped me.
I became quieter.
More introverted.
Less certain.
Not because introversion is weakness.
Because I didn’t feel like myself.
That’s how it happens.
You don’t lose yourself in a catastrophic decision.
You hand yourself over in reasonable ones.
You call it maturity.
You call it compromise.
You call it finishing what you started.
What it really is… is negotiation.
I didn’t leave immediately because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone.
I didn’t want them to know I had chosen wrong for the wrong reasons.
I didn’t want to look foolish.
So I stayed.
Competence is dangerous when you’re misaligned.
You can succeed in something that doesn’t fit you for a very long time.
Long enough to forget what fit felt like.
That’s the real cost.
Not the years.
Not the money.
The internal shift.
The slow distribution of self.
Here’s what I know now:
Disappointing other people expires.
They adjust.
They move on.
They forget.
Disappointing yourself compounds.
You carry it.
You feel it.
You negotiate again to avoid feeling it.
That’s how pieces go missing.
Not stolen.
Offered.
If you’re honest, you already know the first piece you handed over.
The question is whether you’re still negotiating.
Your grit is gorgeous.
– Maven
