Tiny Buddha

Tag: inner wisdom

  • Letting Go of the Life You Were Told to Want

    Letting Go of the Life You Were Told to Want

    “To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

    Ever since I was about four years old, I knew I was different from the other kids. I was always on the outside looking in. As I approach middle age, I’ve never shaken that feeling—the knowing—of being different.

    We live in a noisy world where we find whatever we seek. If we’re looking for validation that we don’t belong, that’s exactly what we’ll find.

    While flawed, the standard ‘life blueprint’ hasn’t quite sailed off into the sunset. The path to happiness, according to societal norms and expectations, goes something like:

    • Getting the degree
    • Climbing the corporate ladder
    • Finding ‘the one’
    • Having children and the ‘dream’ family
    • Buying the fancy house, the car or whatever else we desire
    • Buckling up for retirement and living ‘happily ever after’

    Let’s Stop Selling People the Fairytale

    For many, life’s expectations sink so deeply into their bones that they hardly pause to ask: Do I actually want this life? Am I simply following the path I was told to walk?

    The reality is that, as someone living through the experience, choosing a life that doesn’t look like everyone else’s can be confronting. I’m single at thirty-eight and have no kids and live alone.

    I always say everything has its pros and cons, but when I am alone with no outside noise to sway me, I am genuinely content. I feel this at my core. I’m home.

    The Heavy Weight of the Word ‘Should’

    I despise the word “should.” It’s a heavy word because it comes wrapped in fear. More pointedly, fear of letting people down, of being rejected, of daring to dream of something that isn’t on the tried and tested path, and ultimately, the fear of getting lost in uncertainty.

    I was never a fan of ticking boxes. Even more so when I learned through experience that every box left me feeling emptier.

    Recently, I’ve become increasingly interested in the origins of societal ideas. We are the only people walking in our shoes and experiencing this world as we do. Checklists may seem comforting thanks to their supposed certainty, but I speak from experience when I say they are suffocating when they fail to align with who we truly are.

    What would happen if you engaged in a self-audit on the “shoulds” in your life? You’d be surprised at how often the word pops up. I know I was.

    Being Open to Curiosity

    Curiosity is a superpower. If people asked questions more than they assumed, the world would be a softer place.

    When I was younger, I remember a family member saying something along the lines of, “Everyone wants to find their person, settle down, and have kids.”

    Even as a teenager, I knew that assertion didn’t sit right with me. How can everyone on this planet have the same life path and desires?

    Permitting ourselves to ask the uncomfortable questions is a gift in the long term because it helps to prevent us from creating a life where we are playing a character rather than truly living.

    • What if I don’t want children?
    • What if owning a home isn’t important to me?
    • What if [enter whatever your greatest desire is] doesn’t make me feel how I think it will?

    Listening to the Wisdom of Our Body

    It’s odd to me how we compartmentalize mental, physical, and emotional health and well-being. There’s no mental health without physical health and vice versa. The body knows before the mind latches on.

    That sinking heaviness in your chest when you picture a future you don’t truly want. The flutter of lightness when you imagine an alternative that feels more aligned, even if it scares you. This is not your imagination.

    Our bodies are constantly speaking to us on a 24/7 basis, willing us to listen. Learning to listen to our body’s signals can be a compass.

    If a decision leaves you feeling constricted, drained, or resentful, it may not be congruent with your values. If it leaves you feeling expansive, calm, or quietly excited, it may be pointing you toward your version of freedom.

    Of course, this doesn’t mean the path will always be easy (it won’t), but it will be yours. And there is peace in that.

    Facing the Fear of Judgment

    Let’s be honest: choosing a life that is counterculture often means facing judgement. Lots of people think all kinds of things about me. I let them because correcting them isn’t important to me.

    Here’s what I know for sure:

    • Family often question our choices
    • Friends don’t always understand
    • People fear change and the uncommon

    Here’s the truth: People are often most unsettled not by our choices, but by the mirror our choices reflect back to them.

    When you step outside the script, you remind others that they, too, have the option to choose differently. For some, that’s inspiring. For others, it’s threatening.

    Creating Your Own Life, Not Someone Else’s

    The beauty of life lies in diversity. Your version of a meaningful life may shift and evolve as you do, and that’s okay. What matters most is you choose it consciously rather than by default.

    Choosing a life that doesn’t look like everyone else’s isn’t about rebellion for the sake of it. It’s about alignment.

    It’s about living in a way that honors your values, nourishes your well-being, and allows you to show up authentically.

    I’m not here to offer fun tips and tricks. I assure you that if you feel you are destined for something greater or more, you’re not alone.

    So what will you choose?

    If you feel your life doesn’t fit into a standard mold, you aren’t broken. You are simply hearing the call to create something authentic for yourself.

    It takes courage to step off the well-worn path. And every time you choose your own version of enough—your own rhythms, joys, and definitions of success—you make space for others to do the same.

    The world doesn’t need more cookie-cutter lives; it needs people who are brave enough to live in alignment with their hearts.

  • How to Develop True Self-Confidence Amid Life’s Uncertainty

    How to Develop True Self-Confidence Amid Life’s Uncertainty

    “Confidence comes not from always being right but from not fearing to be wrong.” ~Peter T. McIntyre

    I used to think of confidence as something external, something that people exuded in their body language, in the way they spoke, or in the certainty of their decisions.

    To me, a confident person had a poker face and a strong, grounded posture. I thought confidence was something you cultivated through endless practice—training yourself to speak with assertiveness and decisiveness, to project certainty even when you didn’t feel it inside.

    But I’ve come to understand that true self-confidence is something that comes from within, and I fully embrace Stephen Batchelor’s definition: “Self-confidence is trust in our capacity to awaken. It is both the courage to face whatever life throws at us without losing our sense of calm and the humility to treat every situation we encounter as one from which we can learn.”

    It is not arrogance or blind faith in one’s abilities; it is a quiet trust in our inner wisdom, an unwavering belief that we can navigate whatever life presents, even when the path ahead is unclear.

    I did not arrive at this understanding easily. It took one of the most difficult periods of my life to uncover the strength that had always been within me, hidden beneath layers of conditioning, fear, and uncertainty.

    In the midst of heartbreak, loss, and what felt like complete falling apart, I learned to sit with my emotions, to hold space for them, and to trust that they were not my enemy but my guide.

    When Everything Falls Apart

    There was a time when everything I thought was certain suddenly crumbled. The foundation I had built my life upon—the plans, the expectations, the identity I had crafted—was gone. I found myself with nothing solid to hold onto except my own ability to endure. And even that felt fragile at times.

    During those days, self-confidence was not something I actively sought. In truth, I was just trying to get through each moment. I took things hour by hour, day by day. I sought support in those around me, who held space for me with compassion. I turned inward, searching for any glimmer of light in the darkness. Sometimes I found it. Other times, it felt like I was shoveling more soil over it, burying it deeper.

    It wasn’t a linear process. Healing never is. Some days, I felt strong and capable; others, I was overwhelmed by grief, sadness, and doubt. But slowly, without realizing it at first, I was building something. I was learning to trust myself. I was learning that even in the most painful moments, I could survive them. And not just survive; I could learn from them, grow through them, and emerge stronger on the other side.

    Sitting with Discomfort: The Pathway to Confidence

    I had been meditating, reading, and reflecting for years, but during this time, my practice took on a different meaning. It was no longer about finding peace, clarity, or becoming a better person; it was about learning to sit with discomfort without trying to fix it. There were times (most!) when my meditation felt anything but calming. Instead of feeling still or at ease, I felt restless, agitated, even more lost.

    But what I didn’t realize then was that I was doing the work. Meditation wasn’t about achieving a state of bliss—it was about cultivating the capacity to be with whatever arose, without running from it or pushing it away. The more I practiced this, the more I realized that the self-confidence I sought wasn’t about having all the answers. It was about trusting that I could handle the unknown.

    I came to understand that uncertainty is the only certainty in life. As Susan Jeffers wrote in Embracing Uncertainty, “The only way to get rid of the fear of doing something is to go out and do it.” What I needed was not certainty about the future, but trust in my ability to meet it with openness and resilience.

    The Confidence That Emerges After Pain

    With time, I realized that confidence isn’t about knowing exactly what will happen next. It’s about knowing that whatever happens, we have the strength and inner resources to face it. And more than that—we have the ability to thrive through it.

    For me, true self-confidence came from understanding impermanence, from recognizing that everything changes, and from knowing that I, too, have the ability to adapt and respond. It came from experiencing suffering and emerging on the other side with greater compassion—for myself and for others. It came from realizing that I didn’t need to have everything figured out to trust myself completely.

    This kind of confidence isn’t loud or showy. It doesn’t seek validation or prove itself to others. It is quiet, deep, and unshakable. It is the trust that we have our own backs, that we can meet life with open arms, and that even in uncertainty, we are always enough.

    Your Inner Light Is Always There

    If you are in the midst of struggle right now, feeling like the ground beneath you is shifting, I want you to know this: There is a powerful light within you. It may feel dim at times (maybe most of the time!), but it is there. It carries the wisdom, strength, and love you need—not only to survive but to live fully, with depth and meaning.

    Concepts like confidence or inner strength may sound foreign now, yet they form, accumulate, and grow in the quiet, unseen ways you keep going, in the small moments you show up for yourself, in the hidden effort you make every day, in the part of you that still hopes.

    True self-confidence is not about never feeling fear or doubt. If anything, these emotions are an essential part of being human. It is only because of fear and doubt that we can truly recognize freedom and inner strength—for what is darkness but the absence of light? By sitting with these emotions, allowing them, and creating space for them as best as you can, you begin to embrace your humanity.

    Self-confidence is about walking forward, holding space for it all, and trusting that your human nature has what it takes to navigate whatever comes, even if you’ve struggled with this in the past. It is about knowing, deep in your bones, that no matter what life brings, there is a light within you that is always lit—you simply need to allow it to shine through.

    And that is how your quiet, inner confidence carries you forward. Every experience is a gift—an opportunity to expand your wisdom, to grow in ways you may not always notice, but that always carry you forward.

  • How Following Our Instincts Now Can Protect Us from Pain Down the Line

    How Following Our Instincts Now Can Protect Us from Pain Down the Line

    “There is a voice inside of you that whispers all day long, I feel this is right for me, I know that this is wrong. No teacher, preacher, parent, friend or wise man can decide what’s right for you. Just listen to the voice that speaks inside.” ~Shel Silverstein

    Some time ago, a guy I knew suggested I go swimming with him and a friend of his. I accepted.

    I didn’t know him well. Sometimes he would say hello and be warm, while other times he would ignore me. Since he was a longtime friend of a girl I knew, I was looking forward to getting to know him better so we could become friends too.

    He and his friend dived several times from the ten-meter diving board. When it was my turn to jump, I was petrified.

    I was standing on the diving board with a firm will to jump, but the emptiness below me paralyzed me.

    My new friend climbed the stairs of the diving platform, came on the board, and kissed me on the mouth to encourage me. It was cute of him, but the situation stressed me even more. I knew him very little, and the fact that he blew hot and cold did not give me confidence.

    When I finally got off the diving board, without having jumped, I told him how much I appreciated that he came to encourage me, but I preferred that we stay friends.

    In the following months, whenever I bumped into him, he ignored me.

    About six months later, as I was walking down the street, he ran out of a restaurant to greet me and offer to ski with him and his friends, which I accepted. I was surprised at his change in attitude and relieved that he was no longer mad at me for sending him away at the pool.

    We spent a wonderful day of skiing, during which he was particularly friendly.

    In the evening, we met at the local pub, where he told me of his desire to go out with me. I replied, again, that I preferred that we stay friends.

    Later that evening, when I passed him on the pub stairs, he walked straight past without looking at me. It hurt me. I knew he was hurt, but it was unfair to ignore me again. I had spent a wonderful day with him and wished we could stay on good terms.

    Following this, I felt uneasy and ended up telling him that I had changed my mind about him because I wanted things to go back how they were earlier that day, when he was warm and charming. That’s how our relationship started, but I quickly realized something was wrong.

    I noticed that when he needed me or when we were planning to spend the night together, he was warm and generous with compliments. On the other hand, when I was useless to him, he was cold and distant. The sudden shift between the two extremes made me doubt his sincerity and feel manipulated.

    Moreover, he did things secretively, which created an atmosphere of mistrust.

    Also, he always created a busy schedule for himself, in which he assigned me time slots in advance.

    If I suggested that we see each other at a time other than what he had initially planned, he did not let go until I gave in.

    I felt like a pawn on his chessboard, and I was tiring of the lows but growing addicted to the highs.

    When I would bring up issues in our relationship, he was not open to questioning himself. Each time, he managed to convince me that I was the cause of the problem. The argument ended with me crying and begging him to forgive me.

    As a result, after each argument, I felt that the problem was still unsolved, and my frustration escalated.

    He ended up leaving me, which was legitimate since we were constantly arguing.

    The breakups I had experienced with other ex-boyfriends had left me either relieved or heartbroken, or both. This breakup left me with an identity crisis.

    During our relationship, when my ex-partner found a flaw in my personality, he could not help but amplify it and remind me of it all the time.

    That is when I started to doubt myself. Who was right, him or me? Maybe he was right, and I was this person he was describing.

    It took me a while to realize that this relationship was toxic. Looking back, I wondered how I could have come to this.

    How could I have been left by a man I had never wanted to be with and for whom I had never had romantic feelings?

    Also, why had I tried so hard to make this relationship work when I was miserable throughout its course?

    In other relationships, I’ve always had feelings for my partners. Those magical feelings that make you euphoric at the beginning, and every time you see someone who looks a little like your loved one, you think it’s him.

    In this case, the unease after being ignored made me change my mind.

    In his defense, my ex-partner never forced me to be in a relationship with him, and as an adult, I am responsible for my choices.

    Yet, his strong-willed character always ended up defeating my decisions.

    This experience taught me why you should listen to your inner voice and be in tune with yourself. The voice inside tells you what feels right and wrong for you.

    Don’t be afraid to follow your intuition, even when people insist you go against it. Does that mean that you should think only of yourself? No, obviously. However, if what is being asked of you goes against your intuition, and even if you do not understand why, it is better not to do it.

    If I had listened to my intuition and refused to go out with this guy, I would have hurt him briefly but saved him from a relationship that did not suit him. Moreover, I would have spared myself unnecessary suffering.

    When you make decisions with your heart, you have no or fewer regrets if things go wrong.

    It can take time to learn to listen to your inner voice and follow your instincts without feeling guilty—especially if you learned growing up to put other people before yourself, as I did.

    If you feel that someone or something isn’t right for you but worry about upsetting someone else, remind yourself that a little short-term discomfort can often save you a lot of pain down the line.

  • I Cheated on Him with My Higher Self (and We’re Still Going Strong)

    I Cheated on Him with My Higher Self (and We’re Still Going Strong)

    “It’s okay to let go of those who couldn’t love you. Those who didn’t know how to. Those who failed to even try. It’s okay to outgrow them, because that means you filled the empty space in you with self-love instead. You’re outgrowing them because you’re growing into you. And that’s more than okay, that’s something to celebrate.” ~Angelica Moone

    “How could you do this to me? It’s obvious you’re with someone else.”

    That was the third and final message I received from my partner of nearly three years, several weeks after we had finally decided to break up. I say “we” because initially it seemed that the decision was mutual, although it would later be revealed that it was me who wanted out.

    He was right, by the way. I had left him for someone else.

    No, not the lover that he had conjured up for me in his own mind. In fact, what had pulled me away was much more powerful and seductive than that. I had cheated on him with my higher self. And she had been trying to win me over for quite some time.

    My higher self: AKA my intuition, AKA my inner badass that will never be ignored. Yep, she’s the one I had left him for.

    Much like when I was nearing the end of my marriage, she had started off with a gentle nudge, a tap on the shoulder every now and again. I’ve noticed throughout my life that if I don’t stop what I’m doing, these attempts to get my attention will become more consistent, until what was once a whisper finally becomes a roar.

    Such was the case three years ago when she decided that I should shave my head. At that point, I had invested a lot of money turning my naturally dark brown hair into a platinum blond mane. This was before the pandemic, when I couldn’t imagine anything coming between me and my monthly visits to the salon.

    As with most suggestions that come from my higher self, my ego was not impressed.

    If the two of them had been sitting across from one another, the conversation would have gone something like . .

    “You want to do whaaaat??”

    “Shave it.”

    “Excuse me?”

    “Take it all off.”

    “All of it?”

    “All. Of. It.”

    So I attempted a compromise by shaving a bit off the side. I knew I was kidding myself when I thought that would be the end, but at least it was a start. Over the course of the next twelve months, I felt equal parts admiration and jealousy whenever I caught a glimpse of someone with a shaved head. This peculiar mix was familiar to me, and it signaled what was destined to happen next.

    When I had finally made the decision, it was a random Tuesday morning, and it made absolutely no sense to my logical mind. Unlike the ego that thrives on being booked and busy, the higher self loves white space. When we give ourselves the opportunity to tune out and tune in, our deepest desires have a funny way of being revealed.

    That fateful day I had decided to take an extra long walk with my dog through one of the parks here in Barcelona. There’s nothing like nature, movement, and a bit of solitude to help you cut through the noise and get to the heart of what you really want. Instead of returning to my apartment, we headed to the salon.

    As I took a seat at my hairdresser’s station and looked at myself in the mirror, my ego had a full-blown tantrum while my higher self popped open the proverbial champagne.

    In those moments of feeling the clippers pass over my scalp, watching my shoulder-length hair fall to the floor, I finally felt free. Whether it’s our hair, our jobs, or a relationship we’ve long outgrown, the higher self seeks our liberation, no matter what the cost.

    That day when I told my then partner what I had done, the conversation didn’t go as I had hoped but exactly like I had imagined.

    “You’re bald.”

    While this was indeed a fact, the tone made it feel like a personal attack. He asked me why someone so beautiful would intentionally make herself so ugly. For once in my life, being “pretty” hadn’t been the deciding factor. I wasn’t so concerned with how I wanted to look but rather how I wanted to feel. As I’ve come to learn since, life really changes when this perspective starts to shift.

    If his thoughts and feelings were any indication, I was no longer much to look at when it came to the male gaze. Ironically, all he could see was “a weirdo” while the person I saw with my own eyes was a queen. 

    While my ex couldn’t get past my shaved head, I couldn’t get over the luminosity and the brilliance that could fully shine through. As he continued to fixate on what I had lost, I knew the truth of what I had gained: freedom, courage, and beauty on my own terms.

    Perhaps I always knew that he would leave me over a haircut. No one likes to think that the future of their relationship comes down to the length of their hair, but he had told me from the beginning that shaving my head was the one thing I should never do. Funny the rules we’ll follow in an attempt to belong to other people while we strategically abandon ourselves.

    I had spent nearly four decades of my life searching for safety in the fulfillment of everyone’s expectations. I used to be an expert at figuring out what they wanted and becoming exactly that. Until one cold, cloudy morning in February 2021, when I decided I was done. Done with the pretending. Done with the pleasing. Done with the denial of what I knew to be true.

    I was finally ready for a different kind of love. And this time it was all my own.

    You could say that I cheated on my ex with my higher self, or maybe she was the one I was meant for all along. Either way, I’ve chosen to be faithful to my inner wisdom. And from what I can tell, we’re still going strong.

  • Confessions of an Extrovert: Why I Now Love My Alone Time

    Confessions of an Extrovert: Why I Now Love My Alone Time

    “Allow yourself to grow and change. Your future self is waiting.” -Unknown

    Not to be dramatic, but I really mean it when I say that solitude changed my life. I am an extrovert who loves humans, socializing, and learning from people and experiences. I’ve always enjoyed being around others, and don’t get me wrong, I still thrive this way. But when I got Covid in 2021, life completely changed, and it’s not the only way I thrive now.

    Before Covid, I’d been living my life in a way that wasn’t serving me. I was partying a lot, not eating well, and living in chaos, with very little rest. I constantly had my schedule booked, leaving no time for self-care. I felt like I was living life for others, ignoring what I needed.

    I made mistakes, like blowing off my priorities because I was in a terrible headspace, and I continued living an unhealthy lifestyle until I finally had a talk with myself and realized this wasn’t right for me (then Covid came along, and sh*t got serious).

    I didn’t immediately enjoy quarantining and being stuck at home, away from friends and family, but before I got sick, I knew change was coming. And though I felt a lot of resistance, I also felt that a new version of myself was on the way.

    While I’m usually not one to fight change, there was so much going on at once, and it was a lot. I also learned that I was one of the people who suffered from panic attacks and anxiety as a side effect of Covid. The aftermath was worse than having the virus itself.

    This lasted almost a year. I felt so bad for myself; I couldn’t believe that this is what life had come to for me. I was even losing my hair. Some days I’d wonder if this dark tunnel would ever come to an end and show me light. Things felt very heavy, but I also had some of the most beautiful things going on at the same time, like living in the city with my now fiancé, so it was all very confusing.

    I began to lose sleep, which was unusual for me. My inner world felt like chaos. There were lots of tears and weekly therapy sessions (which also changed my life). Therapy and journaling became my safe spaces to release and understand myself.

    Throughout the year of that inner chaos, what did I learn? Surrender. I was trying to maintain full control of my life and keeping busy while actively avoiding working through suppressed emotions from times when younger Naila would over-extend for others, and completely forget to take care of herself. I didn’t want to listen because I was afraid. And that’s human nature, to fear the unknown.

    So, here’s a reminder that the Universe forces you to slow down and redirect when you’re not listening. This also means it may hurt more since we didn’t consciously welcome the change.

    Over time, I have gone through so many phases and such inner growth. I began working with my wonderful therapist and quit a job that was not working out for me as expected (which hurt). I’ve lost people and my relationships changed, thankfully most of them for the better.

    As soon as I let go of control and put in the hard work, things got better, and I saw results—even if they were just small victories. I was starting to see that light I’d been waiting for. My body felt lighter as I began to release dead weight from my body and I began to feel like myself again, but this time, better than ever.

    I chose watering myself over destructive behaviors. Instead of focusing on the anxiety attacks and trying to force myself back to sleep at night, I meditated. I chose solitude over socializing. This was the peak of my growth. 

    Sometimes, we get lost in the chaos of this busy world. We get sucked into conversations and company we don’t actually enjoy. Society tells us to be productive 24/7. Our worth is based off money, accomplishments, and what social media sees. Conversations are about what we are instead of who we are.

    Long before this journey, I was used to overbooking my schedule, always very busy. I would work two jobs, scheduling anything I could in between and going to school at the same time. I enjoyed it then.

    Solitude and self-reflection taught me what I truly care about: genuine connections, giving and receiving love, nurturing myself just as I do others, and living, not just surviving.

    My higher self told me that the world’s expectations are not my own, and that it’s okay to choose a different path than I once wanted (or society told me I wanted). As I’ve learned in therapy, I am my own worst critic, so my new path is all about letting life unfold naturally, without constantly criticizing myself for where I thought I’d be in life, especially in my career.

    I began to reflect on my life, my inner child, and current self. Most importantly, I began to heal from things I’d stored away from childhood pains and days long ago during an abusive relationship. I let go of self-sabotaging behaviors and decided to finally listen and release, then the inner turmoil started to calm.

    Because I was spending much more time alone, I learned a lot about myself. Solitude helps us build trust with ourselves and teaches us about our true desires. We begin to tolerate less and prioritize differently. I value very different things now than I once did. I’m getting to know my true self, and that’s something no one can teach you or prepare you for. 

    I also want to emphasize that solitude is possible while you’re in a healthy relationship.

    Throughout my dark days, I had my now-fiancé supporting me through it all while letting me heal and grow. Him supporting my solitude made me that much more successful on my journey. When someone around you offers love, respect, and support, it makes it easier. Their company becomes a bonus and not a burden. Previous Naila didn’t think this was possible, and I’m grateful things panned out differently.

    Overall, I have learned that the “dark” times were actually just lessons and periods that catapulted my growth and healing. The tough times are temporary, and there is strength and clarity in solitude. As of today, I cherish my solitude; it’s a vital part of my being. I also learned that there is light at the end of the dark tunnel. Yes, even when it’s long and scary.

    In this new chapter of my life, rest is high on my priority list, not overworking and overbooking. I am much pickier about who/what I surround myself with, much more productive, and still growing and ever-changing.

    My life is much more peaceful and calm, and my boundary-setting skills are much stronger. These are lessons I couldn’t learn as an unbalanced extrovert. I’m a better version of myself now.

    So, if you’re an extrovert who forgets to prioritize yourself, someone who’s going through a dark tunnel, or someone who avoids change, this post is for you. Instead of being afraid of solitude and change, learn to accept them and watch how they transform your life for the better.

    As my dad once told me, change is the only constant in life, so get comfortable with the uncomfortable.

    I believe in you. ♥