Note: Not as polished and detailed as I’d like it to be. I’ll write more in separate posts. If I don’t publish this now, I don’t think I’d ever. But I’ll probably come back to refine it later again.
The last time I experienced a transformative year was in my early 20s living overseas during college and university. In short, I had a blast during college. But I had to force myself to learn to be independent in university while navigating the challenge of not having many friends, stepping out of my comfort zone, and learning how to dress like a boss-ass bitch (I received compliments from people thinking I was in the fashion line back then so yay success). Fast forward a decade, I’m seeing similar patterns emerging again. 2023 wasn’t about tangible-level changes — like exploring and trying new experiences and things as in previous years — but rather about facing tsunami after tsunami of intense emotions. The highs were euphoric, the lows devastating, later on leading to anxiety attacks, relentless overthinking and grief, and even lapses in my memory. These experiences shook me to my core, and I needed a lot of time to recover, which is something I’ll touch on in my 2024 review.
Life has a funny (and sometimes cruel) way of showing me what I truly want. For instance, I didn’t fully understand what I needed in a job in 2022 until I learned the hard way. It turned out to be less about the work itself and more about the team—the people I could collaborate with, who shared the same wavelength. (Unfortunately, I seem to have a challenging affinity with women in corporate environments.) In 2023, I also gained clarity on what I value in relationships and what wasn’t right for me. Deep down, I think I already knew, but I lacked the courage to act on it. I have little regrets, but this realization left a scar on my heart that still feels like I could not recover from, at least not as quickly as I’d hoped.
Other difficult choices were forced upon me too, or rather competing needs: the need to socialize vs the desire to bask in my own presence, the need to focus on professional work vs the existing full of personal work, and the need to re-evaluate my relationship or having none at all (or pursuing something potentially better). At first I attempted to balance these competing demands, but ultimately one took precedence over the other — it was just not sustainable to juggle them all. I’m still unsure if it was my own limitations that led to these choices, or if they were truly inevitable though.
To put it simply, life wasn’t life-ing the way it was supposed to.
I’ve been redrafting this piece over and over again. In the beginning of this current year, whenever I attempted to write it, I would still cry, thinking I hadn’t moved on. But now, as we approach the end of Q3 2024, I find myself completing it with a growing sense of acceptance and more compassion for myself. (More on that in my 2024 review.)
On renewed identity
It felt like I was rediscovering myself—a major overhaul of my identity. I "touched a lot of grass" by disconnecting from my online presence and spending more time outdoors, meeting friends, and stepping outside my usual comfort zone due to this new version of myself. It all started at my new workplace, where it felt easier to start fresh with new people—people who didn’t know me before. I became far more open, initiating conversations, making new friends, and saying yes to new opportunities, even with different groups. Is this what being an extrovert feels like? It was more than I had ever been used to because no one knew who I was before. I could have shown up with an entirely different personality, and no one would have batted an eye.
However, I felt an inner conflict that I needed to confront before I could be truly comfortable with this new self. There was a discomfort, as if my old self was being erased—as if the version of me I had known for decades was disappearing to make way for this new identity. It felt like I was abandoning the person who had protected me for so long for a “better” version, making everything I had gone through feel insignificant. That thought scared me because the older version of me had been my shield. It felt like finding new friends who align better with your interests and values, while the old friends, though familiar, no longer resonate. I briefly grieved the idea that I couldn’t keep both identities—the one I had lived with for so long and the one I had embraced over the past year. But then I realized a third option: merging them into one.
I finally convinced myself that I like this new version of me more because I feel freer and more open. In reflection, I think it was my inner barriers lifting, allowing my inner child to finally express herself. The barrier had likely been fear. Maybe this version of me isn’t entirely new—it was there all along. These circumstances just created the space for me to be more of myself again.
Admittedly, I had spent so much time living in my own head that I forgot how to truly live outside it. When I started putting myself out there and opening up to others, I felt parts of myself coming back to life again. It was almost invigorating. Journaling and documenting my work was only the beginning; stepping outside—both literally and metaphorically—allowed me to escape the cave I had been in.
How I ended up choosing one or the other was a matter of priority and which of these needs fueled me more to the state of being more of myself. When I was being truthful to myself I was able to come to a decision with more ease.
Professional work vs personal work:
- I found a job that was challenging but fulfilling, though there was resistance from me to adapt in the beginning, due to long and tiring commutes back then every day.
- (Trauma)Bonded with colleagues who I can now call some of them friends, creating a more positive work culture. Because of this, it also motivated me to put in more effort at work like everyone else.
- Naturally I had to re-evaluate and adjust my personal routines unfortunately (or fortunately?). It did make me reflect whether I was doing them for the sake of it. If I did, why was I still holding onto certain habits even though they may no longer serve me?
- Journaling - Did I need to do daily/weekly/monthly reflections? I eventually scaled back, only when I needed to destress or reduce my anxiety, but I still record my highlights on a monthly basis.
- Reading - Did I need to spend time reading similar content by different authors? Or do I need to take action itself? The answer is obvious.
- Personal projects - Was I continuing due to sunk cost fallacy? Perhaps. I put it in the backseat for the time being.
Social vs solitude:
- I felt a strong sense of belonging in the place I spend most of my time. It was also the reason I could become more open, which made it clear that I enjoy being around others. (Though I was also figuring out the type of social groups I like more)
- I had spent so much time in solitude doing my own thing that I forgot how fun it could be to spend time with others, especially now that I’m more comfortable with myself.
But with these changes also brought challenges to my relationship.
On relationships (and grief)
I came across attachment theory when I was searching for advice on managing relationships. Navigating your attachment style (hello, anxious attachment!) and learning to become more emotionally secure and stable are one thing, but educating your partner on it is another challenge entirely. My issue was bringing up conflicts — I was afraid of making the other person feel bad about themselves and their reactions. What if this would tear the relationship apart? I needed constant reassurance. In truth, I wasn’t the most secure partner.
By hanging out with a variety of people, I started to understand more about what I truly wanted in a partner. And I wasn’t the same person I had been when we first met, nor was I the same person I had been through most of my 20s, so my wants and needs are vastly different now. When my long term relationship ended, I obviously grieved. It was painful to let go of someone you had spent most of your 20s with, but that grief was still manageable. It was the grief of a potential relationship that ruined me. It also bruised my ego heavily. But that heartbreak snapped me back to reality, forcing me to re-examine what I truly wanted in a partner AGAIN, and confront and revisit my triggers and abandonment issues (thanks mum and dad from the 90s-00s!). That process involved a lot of self acceptance and love to keep myself grounded over again and again and again (more on that in my 2024 review).
What sucked most was despite being completely overwhelmed with grief, I still had to go about life. Even though I allowed myself moments to cry, I still had to go to work, I still had to eat and drink and take care of myself, and carry on about my day as if nothing had happened. All of this coupled with the existing stress of a challenging job, being a new team lead, moving to a new home, and grieving the death of my grandmother. It was a lot. But I still had to stay strong. Because in the end, there was no one else left for me to rely on anymore, but myself.
A part of me still has some love for these people and learned to forgive them, even though some days I’d like to walk into traffic or watch them walk into traffic. I don’t think I regretted these relationships, because there were still moments when I genuinely felt like the luckiest woman alive. My only regret was that I did not communicate my true feelings enough because I wanted to be the “chill” girl, but I wasn’t. I was afraid that I’d scare or push them away. I did the best I could with the knowledge and experience I had at the time, but that’s all in the past. Now is now.
In some fucked up way, I’m still thankful for the lessons and even growth (more in 2024 review) that came with these relationships. Because without them, I don’t think I would have ever known or taught myself these things about myself until god knows when.
They say the last act of love is letting go. So letting go, I shall.
My 2023 tldr;
- Job security confirmed
- Identity shifted, from a homebody to a social butterfly
- Travelled around Japan (From Fukuoka → Yamaguchi → Hiroshima → Back to Osaka)
- Turned 30
- Became a team lead
- Long-term relationship ended
- Let go of a team mate
- Moved into a new home
- Grandmother’s passing
- Got my heart broken again
2024 goals
- Coming back to myself
Notes:
- Even though my 2023 (I count it before 2024 Chinese New Year) ended on a bad note, I’m still mostly hopeful for 2024 and beyond.
- I won’t / don’t want to go into detail about my relationship. Maybe in another post.
