Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here
My Journey into “Self Betterment”
I’ve tried so many things in the name of becoming a better version of myself that it’s been a ridiculous journey. You name it and this isn’t the full comprehensive list:
- Cold showers.
- Journaling.
- Intermittent fasting.
- Lifting weights.
- Meditating.
- Waking up early.
- Tracking habits.
- Therapy (though I didn’t know how to be honest back then).
- Stoicism.
- Buddhism.
- Financial planning.
- SMART goals.
- Praying.
- A lot of it!!!
And for a while, they worked, I felt healthier, stronger, and able to take on the world—until I couldn’t anymore. Why weren’t they working anymore? Great question! The insight I got was pretty simple and straight forward in my opinion.
These habits weren’t helping me improve my life at all.
Things would spiral out of control, my anger and resentment and bitterness and my envy would arise whenever I wasn’t keeping up with those habits like so much “Successful people” preached doing.
When I couldn’t keep up, I vehemently hated myself to the point I would berate myself, tears streaming down my face, red and livid, and I couldn’t stand hearing my own voice.
When I missed a day, I felt like I was falling apart. That my life was being uprooted again because I had no solid foundation to plant and grow my own roots in where I could be proud, not ready to burn myself at the stake.
It took me years to reflect, years to stop and reconsider what was going on. Then, it hit me; maybe the issue wasn’t that I was lazy, undisciplined, or doomed to be stuck.
Maybe the problem was this:
Self-improvement became a prison when it stopped allowing me to be human.
The Rigidity of “Better”
Since starting my journey to be a “better version of myself” back in University, now as I currently am, I noticed that the Self-help culture started sounding like this:
Wake up earlier. Don’t make excuses. Keep going no matter what. Grind harder. Be grateful. Don’t complain. Smile. Fix your mindset. Work out. Read more. Meditate. Eat clean. Keep up. Don’t fall off.
It sounds motivating, it sounds like good advice because taking care of ourselves is important—however, it becomes just another script to follow, just another thing to fail at, if we don’t fit the mold like the people peddling the advice expect, the we’re still the failures.
Even religion sometimes feels this way too: all structure, no grace. At least, from personal experience and interactions with certain people, this was the impression I got.
I’ve been the type of person who wouldn’t bother much if people, especially in religious settings, were too unforgiving and came across as, “you’re going to hell,” swearing at people and being graceless, then go to pray as though they didn’t mistreat someone for having different beliefs and practices.
It took me some time to realize that we all contradict ourselves. We all fall short, no matter the setting, beliefs, or practices we follow.
And, honestly, I could stand to have more of less systems to tell us we’re broken, that we’re failures, if we don’t already tell ourselves this because I do and I stopped doing a lot of these things, these habits, myself.
I’ve been wondering how much we need room to breathe, since life is already stifling a lot of us as it is.
To ask: What if I’m not failing? What if I’m just tired? What is this habit really doing for me if things are falling apart and I still have to pick up the pieces?
When I Miss a Day, I Feel Like I’m Falling Apart
I was learning to code recently—something I’ve wanted to do for years.
I stayed consistent for a month, even through exhaustion. But then I hit a wall. I struggled, and I stopped. Just like that.
Then I heard my inner critic come back with a vengeance, it was so loud:
“You see? You’re slipping again. You’ll never keep up. You’ll always be the failure you always were and will never get out of your shitty situation.”
That voice used to win. But now? I’m learning to ignore it.
Why?
Because I’m working two jobs, sleeping in my car most mornings to get parking before my warehouse shift, battling back pain that shoots down my leg, trying to eat on a schedule that barely allows for rest, and still—still—I wake up and try again.
That’s not failure, though it feels like it. That’s survival. That’s strength. Even if it might not seem like it, like I’m slowly killing myself and I’m refusing to stop.
Even when I have nothing left to give, I can still:
- Stretch for one minute
- Sit in silence before I pass out
- Let my body sleep when it’s ready
- Forgive myself for what I couldn’t do today
It doesn’t make me lazy.
It makes me human.
I Don’t Want to Be Like “Them”
There are people out there who seem to have it all figured out—wealth, health, perfect routines, business ventures, large platforms. Some of these individuals, in my eyes, tend to mock people like me: the ones with 9-to-5s, who don’t have a “hustle,” who didn’t invest when they were 16, who are still figuring things out at 28, 29, or 35.
And yet… I don’t want to be like them.
They flex success, but rarely acknowledge how much help they had.
They show certainty, but never talk about the cost.
I don’t want to pretend to be okay just to look like I’ve arrived.
I don’t want to shame people into growth by making them feel behind because it’s a shitty feeling added on top of other shitty feelings for not being further along in our own supposed journeys.
I want to live in a world where being kind to yourself isn’t seen as weakness, but also not being used as a crutch.
Where becoming better doesn’t mean becoming someone you’re not and becoming like someone else you might not even like or agree with.
Where falling apart doesn’t mean you’ve failed—it just means you need to rest, adjust, and try a different approach. (Very much like what From Software’s games had taught me to do and apply it in real life).
The Truth I’ve Learned (The Hard Way)
You can try every method, practice every habit, and still feel empty inside if you’re doing it from a place of self-loathing instead of self-respect.
I’m not saying self-improvement is bad. I’m saying it needs space for failure, adjustment, and rest.
You’re allowed to:
- Take a break
- Miss a day (or a week)
- Not be perfect
- Not feel like doing it
- Not optimize every second of your life
- Question the rules
- Do things your own way
- Stop when it hurts
You don’t need to build a life you hate to prove that you’re capable. You’re already capable, it’s just in ways where trends don’t approve, while you’ve experienced your own kind of Hell and are still marching through.
Final Thoughts
I’m still figuring this out. Any of this.
I still struggle.
I still feel like a mess everyday.
I still feel angry, bitter, tired, alone, and afraid that I’ll never “make it.”
But I’m learning that the goal isn’t to become perfect.
It’s to become real.
It’s to build a life that’s sustainable—even in the dark.
Even when no one’s clapping.
Even when it’s just you and a blog post at 4 AM, hitting publish, hoping someone understands.
So if you’re trying—and struggling—to become better, but feel like it’s making you worse…
You’re not alone.
You’re not broken.
You’re just tired.
And that’s okay.
So if you’re trying—and struggling—to become better, but feel like it’s making you worse… then it’s time to rest, re-evaluate your situation, and try a different approach, wouldn’t you agree? Just remember this, even for a brief moment:
You’re not alone.
You’re not broken.
You’re likely very tired of a lot of things.
And it’s okay to realize and say, even to yourself, that, “something isn’t working,” but I can make adjustments as needed because it’s my choice, not because it came from someone else telling me how “wrong” I am.
If this post resonated with you…
Did any part of this sit with you?
If you’ve ever felt the same — or even something close — you’re not alone.
I’d love to hear what came up for you, if you feel like sharing. Whether it’s a quiet “me too,” a story of your own, or just a thought you’ve been holding, the comments are open — and so am I.
No pressure, no performance. Just space
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