Lately, as I’ve written about so many times, I’ve been in this weird, exhausting, sacred process of learning myself. Not just in the surface ways, like realizing I hate loud bars or that I actually do like morning walks. But in the deeper, scarier ways. The “why do I do that?” ways. The “what am I actually afraid of?” ways. The kind of self-work that feels like peeling off layers of armor I didn’t even know I put on.
And I keep coming back to this one truth that feels both inconvenient and deeply right.
I feel the most like myself when I’m helping someone else.
Not helping to distract from my own shit. Not helping to feel needed or important or to earn love (though, full honesty, I’ve definitely done that before).
Helping because it reminds me I have something to offer. That even when I feel broken, down, or barely holding it together, there’s still light coming through… and it’s not just for me.
When I reach out, check in, sit with someone through their stuff… it pulls me out of my own storm. I stop circling my own drain and remember, other people are here. Struggling, surviving, laughing through tears, just like me. And being of service isn’t about fixing them. It’s about witnessing. Holding space. Offering presence.
And something shifts in me when I do that.
The weight of my own problems doesn’t vanish, but it feels different. Lighter. Like maybe the point of all this healing isn’t just to become some perfect, self-aware version of myself, but to use that awareness to show up for others in real ways.
There’s something newly radical about choosing to care.
Not in the loud, look at me kind of way. Though I am guilty of and trying to be more aware of this aspect.
In the quiet “I’m here, and I see you” kind of way.
And the more I do that, the more I feel connected to something real. Something that doesn’t depend on how good my day is going or whether I’ve solved all my inner turmoil.
Maybe the best version of me isn’t the one who has it all figured out.
Maybe it’s the version who still shows up. Imperfect, honest, heart wide open, because someone else might need that exact energy today.
And that feels like enough. Maybe even more than enough.