only two people to impress
The only two people you should try to impress are the 8 and 80-year-old versions of you.
There. Everything you should aim for compacted into one sentence. Fair share of my life has been lived for others. Impress grandparents. Do what parents expect. Then anticipate what wife needs. Always adjust before they even have to say anything. After years of this circus, I found my face morphed into a shape I couldn’t recognize anymore. The stranger I saw in the mirror every day.
What made me happy? What would I do if I could do anything? Simple questions like these became puzzles I couldn’t solve.
I’m still not cleansed of these claws of expectation. Years of living this way will take a while to break out of. But I’ve made progress. Parents have been frustrated on occasions because I don’t comply with their requirements. My wife also struggles to understand me sometimes. I’ve become selfish in a good way.
Why do I always need validation? Why do I need a permissions even just to be?
If my 8-year-old version saw me today, what I’ve accomplished, things I’ve been through, and the person I’ve become, he’d be exhilarated. He’d show his bright smile and say something along the lines of: “Oh wow. You live by yourself, make your decisions, have skills companies fight for? You have a circle of close friends who admire your accomplishments? And are you kidding me? You live in Berlin? Holly smokes. I thought you’d never leave that country of yours.”
The other version still needs excavation. I don’t know what my 80-year-old version would think. Not yet. Would he care about accomplishments or accolades? Or rather be more proud of slowness and richness of experiences? Would he care how long I endured the people I didn’t want? Or would he be proud I prioritized my happiness and contentment above everything else?
That’s still work in progress.