The Lonely Path to Finding What’s Real

Fit in everywhere yet fit in nowhere.

Loneliness is the one place I try to outrun, but deep down, I know it’s where the magic eventually finds its way in.

The people who once filled my days are off building their own lives—creating families, chasing dreams. And I’m here. Still moving, still growing, still searching.

Who wants to know the real me when they can just take the piece of me that brings them value?

No value, no need to know me.

No one sees the version of me that sits in her bedroom, staring at the ceiling, waiting for a text that never comes—unless it’s a business email.

No one sees the me that sinks into sadness when a Netflix series ends, not because of the story, but because, for a little while, I had “friends” I could count on every day. Then, the loneliness creeps back in.

For so long, I filled the void with things that numbed the ache.

Alcohol, until my body rejected it.

Toxic relationships, until I chose peace over chaos.

Endless TV marathons, until even that felt like a distortion of reality.

I know the “supposed to’s.”

Go out more.

Attend events.

Put yourself out there—advice from every friend who doesn’t understand what it feels like to be in this space.

Talk to strangers.

But what do I even say? How do I relate?

More than anything, I just want to be seen. Not for what I can offer, not for what I can do, but for who I am. I want the space to be desired simply because I exist.

And yet, sometimes I wonder—what’s wrong with me?

Am I too quiet? Too awkward? Am I saying the wrong things?

It’s ironic. I run two successful businesses. I thrive in strategy, scaling, selling. Get me on a work call, and I know exactly what to do.

But in life? In love? I feel lost.

How do you “market yourself” for the kind of connection that lasts? The kind of person you want to talk to until the day you die?

The weight of love and loneliness combined—it’s not a burden I’d wish on anyone.

But I’ll carry it.

For now.

Because one day, I’ll look back at this version of me and be grateful I did. This path, this journey—it’s mine alone. And when I finally meet the person who stays, the gratitude for their presence will never fade. Because I’ve been here. I’ve known this.

And that’s what will make it real.