I was always envious of those people because I felt like I owed the world some kind of debt. If I had a “thing,” maybe life would be easier. It sure seemed like it would be. So, for the year of 2025, I made myself a goal: find your “thing.” Prove your existence.
It seemed to me that the first thing I could do is try to obtain as much as possible, as quickly as I could. This wasn’t just limited to friendships—I wanted to have accomplishments and experiences. I wanted to achieve the definition of “success” assigned to us by the world; the idea that we have to be remembered and beloved and recognized.
But when chasing this new resolution, I realized just how unnatural it was for me. Being so busy killed my spirit. Having so many relationships to juggle meant I was unintentionally leaving less time for myself and people I cherished.
It kinda felt like I had dug myself into a deep, isolated hole. Those relationships that I was so careful to build up had started to fade with time. For a while, I thought to myself: Why can’t I just be normal? What is it that I’m missing?
Turns out it wasn’t that I was missing anything. I was too obsessed with success—with finding the “thing.” There comes a point where all you can do is realize just how much you have.
I still run to my mother to tell her about new friends I made. I still write in my journal about how happy I am to talk to people in my classes. Maybe it’s childish, and maybe it’s silly to be so excited about a casual, passing conversation. But there’s very few tangible things in this world, and if it feels real, even something ridiculously small, you have to savor it.
A few months ago I sat in a ferris wheel with a friend and we looked at the ground below us.
Once, my friend brought me fruit and flowers when I was sick.
One of my closest friends cried with me in a locker room during the school day.
And just this morning, I walked with my friend to class. And it made my whole day. An interaction that took maybe three minutes, but one that made me feel whole.
The thing is, you don’t have to prove anything. Counting the mistakes you make and the opportunities you miss will rot you from the inside. And you won’t even realize it, but you’ll resent every moment you have to spend with yourself.
Cherish the small moments you have with people. Celebrate the tiniest things you do. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is try your best. And that’s proof enough, I think.
