How I finally began loving my life

Bronnie Ware, a hospice nurse, observed that many of her patients had similar regrets in their final days. Unsurprisingly, one of the most common regrets was:

I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

No matter what phase of life you're in, you may already identify with this sentiment – with the simultaneous ease and discomfort of living a life that feels inauthentic in one way or another. I sure have, for most of my days since I was in my teens. It's taken me quite a while, but I have finally climbed out of my self-made pit of existential dread.

Part 1: My School Years

Let's just start by saying that I did not fare well in high school or college.

Being a nerdy Asian American teenager doesn't exactly give you social cred in suburban Colorado. But add years of untreated mental illness to the equation and you've got a real doozy. When I was in high school, there was an app on Facebook where students would score their classmates on various superlatives. Ironically, I got voted "least attractive", but also "most likely to succeed".

Even though I didn't experience any particular trauma, I was socially isolated and depressed in my teens. My sense of self-worth plummeted. My life felt empty and directionless. Academics became my only source of purpose.

To be honest, I never loved school, but it did give me the motivation I needed to get out of bed in the morning. I liked that my academic accomplishments were directly proportional to the effort I put in. It was a way for me to get external validation, not from how I was perceived as a person, but purely from my output.

In college, my focus on my studies escalated to a fever pitch. I lived in the library basement. I went days without speaking a single word to anyone. I subsisted on coffee and pastries from the cafe. I developed a nasty habit of binge eating at night whenever I felt bad, and put on over 20 lbs.

My physical and mental health reached an all time low, but I was fueled by the need to achieve. I was convinced that my value as a human being depended on it.

Part 2: Living for Work

After graduation, my drive to excel in school evolved into a drive to excel in the workplace. But this was a different game with different rules.

I quickly learned that success in the real world didn't depend on hard work as much as it depended on social currency. And the payoff wasn't in ideas and discoveries, but rather in salary and influence. I found myself in a system designed to reward the people who gained the favor of the men at the top. And since my identity was so tightly bound to my work, I was determined to win.

After years of hermit life, I really didn't have many social skills. But luckily, I started dating a guy with a political science background who showed me the ropes. (I later married that guy!)

With all the effort it took to hone my technical skills as an engineer, it took me 10 times more to develop communication skills, emotional intelligence, and empathy. But let me tell you, it was well worth it.

My life revolved around work in my 20s. I worked days and evenings and weekends, and even when I wasn't working, I was thinking about work. I climbed my way up the corporate ladder and at first, it felt great. After I had hidden in the shadows for some time, I emerged as someone who was respected (and maybe even liked) by my peers.

The only thing was that everything depended on me continuing to perform at the top of my game and continuing to prioritize the needs of the business.

Part 3: Coping with Work

One thing was clear to me from the start – If I wanted to be successful as a woman, I could not be fat. I had to put an end to my binge eating habit and find a different release valve for my stress.

So I traded one coping mechanism for another and became obsessed with fitness.

In our society, overeating is shameful, but overexercising is admirable. So I was quite proud of myself for this change. I bought into hustle culture and emulated every strong male leader I looked up to. I wanted to feel powerful in the gym and in the office.

Plus, beating myself up physically helped me feel like was offloading my problems without having to address them. When I exerted myself, I took out all my frustrations about my boss, my coworkers, and my projects. When my muscles and lungs were burning, it distracted me from uncomfortable feelings. After all, I could handle physical discomfort, but I couldn't handle emotional discomfort.

Part 4: Trusting Myself

When you don't value yourself, it's really hard to hear yourself. You lose your unique voice and instead, you focus on what everyone else wants and expects of you.

For too long, I let my job define all of me, when it should have only been a part of me. I didn't allow myself to find myself or be myself, because I had no idea who I was outside of my career. I was afraid that if I found out who I really was inside, I wouldn't like her very much. I missed out on so much joy in life, because I didn't believe that I deserved it.

While work and fitness held me down for a while, they were also major factors in lifting me up. As I gained confidence in both my professional and athletic skills, I gained confidence in myself. As I recognized my value, I became comfortable asking other people for what I wanted. And as I got more of what I wanted from others, I began to ask myself what truly mattered to me. External validation aside, what did I really care about?

Truthfully, it wasn't money or status or influence. All of my most treasured moments have one thing in common, and it's finding real connection with other human beings. Perhaps it's because I was starved of friendship in the past. Perhaps it's because friendship was always the most important part of my life before the depression hit.

All I know is that I love talking to people about their hopes and dreams and fears. I love learning about their core values, their motivations, and their unique perspectives. I love learning about their past, present, and future. These conversations are what I seek above all else.

Even at the highest points of my corporate career, I would get the "Sunday scaries". Even when I was performing well, I would get this pit in my stomach before I had to go to work on Monday. I would tell myself that I loved my job, because it was challenging and engaging work. Or that it was a privilege to work with people who were as smart and talented as my coworkers. Or that the financial incentives were unbeatable and would secure my future. My work was so important to me that it overwhelmed the rest of my life, but some tiny piece of it never felt quite right.

When I became a health coach, the scaries vanished completely and they never came back. I'm always excited to talk to my clients, even when they have a bad week. Nothing compares to the high of celebrating a win with them. To me, getting the chance to make a real difference in one person's life is infinitely more rewarding than building software that is used by millions.

Although I really love my job now, I've shifted more of my energy away from it. I prioritize taking care of my mental health and spending quality time with my husband and my dog. Family is more important to me than career and it's about time that my actions show it.

In the past few years, I've made drastic changes to my lifestyle and I finally feel like my whole self. It's a feeling that everything is right in my soul, not just the fleeting dopamine rush I used to get when I got a promotion or a new squat PR.

All it took was listening to myself and trusting my instinct.

Thank you so much for reading. Let me know if you relate!