What hurts the most is that you don't know when you changed.
I didn't notice the change in myself…
There wasn't a specific day when I said, “This is where I started to change.”
Everything happened quietly,
slowly and imperceptibly,
as if life was gently pulling something away from me… without me realizing it.
I thought I was still the same,
carrying the same dreams,
thinking the same way,
and possessing the same passion.
But in a moment of honest self-reflection,
I asked:
“When did I become so burdensome?”
When did everything start requiring effort?
Even the things I used to love…
I started postponing them for no reason.
When did I lose my enthusiasm?
When did I start… and then stop?
And when did fear become stronger than desire?
I didn't lose myself suddenly…
I lost myself in very small details.
When I said, “Not now”… and abandoned a dream that needed only one more step.
When I preferred temporary comfort…
to real progress.
When I allowed negative thoughts
to linger in my mind… without resistance.
And when I convinced myself that I would “go back to how I was”…
But I didn’t.
The painful truth?
I didn’t change…
I just drifted away from myself,
step by step.
But the beautiful thing is…
that the path I took away,
I can return by.
Perhaps I won’t be exactly the same…
But I can be better.
But you are the new person, or are you not?
I don’t feel like I can return to that. Returning would mean a loss, whether there is much there at all. The things wished for I remember, but what about the others aspects.
That’s a powerful way to look at it.
Maybe we are new versions of ourselves, whether we accept it or not.
I don’t think returning is ever truly possible… because even if we go back to the same place, we don’t go back with the same heart or the same mind.
And you’re right — sometimes returning feels like a loss, not because the past was better, but because we’ve already outgrown parts of it.
Maybe the real question isn’t whether we changed…
but whether we understand what we’ve become.