I’m struggling with my life‘s purpose.
I don‘t know what it is – what it should be or what I want it to be.
I‘m coasting through life, thinking I’ll stumble upon its meaning – hoping for a deeper well.
But most days, I can‘t even seem to find myself.

Society made me believe my twenties would be the golden age – the time of my life.
Well, that was a lie. A shallow and broken promise.
I haven’t felt more lost, unsure, and insecure than I do right now.
I‘m scared to make decisions. I‘m scared to set my heart and mind on something, only for life to turn everything upside down again.

How am I supposed to find my purpose, if life keeps changing, and changing, and changing?
Is the ground beneath my feet ever going to come to a halt? Or is it me who needs to become still?
Am I, as a human being, even supposed to find life’s meaning? Or am I just on this earth to have a good ol‘ grand time?
Because, honestly.. I‘m not having one. But I‘ll still keep on searching.

Love. Children. Service. Career. Success. Peace. Family. Self-fulfillment. Adventure. Growth. Faith. Creativity. Legacy. Freedom. Connection. Belonging. Resilience. Kindness. Community. Joy…
Which one of these is it? Or is it something else completely?
Is it unique to each person, or the same on a grander scheme?

And how would I know it’s mine – not just something I absorbed from the expectations of others?
I know what my family would like me to do.
I know what my friends think I should do.
I know what cultural norms would push me toward.
Maybe it starts with becoming clear about my own expectations for life.
So – what do I want? What am I placed on this earth for?

I‘m working, but not in a position where I feel like I can make a change.
I‘m living, but mostly to keep my heart beating and lungs breathing.
Once again, what‘s the point?

Without purpose I feel restless – useless even.
Growing up I always thought I was here to make a change. To make the world a better place – not just for me, myself, and I – for everyone.
Maybe that was wishful thinking.
I always thought I would be of service to people. It’s still something I strive for. But then I got to know a more selfish lifestyle – learned that happiness can come in many forms.

The last time I felt truly alive – for more than a fleeting moment – I was living abroad. I was able to shed all the expectations I thought my surroundings had of me, and open myself up to new points of view.
I filled my time with people and activities that mattered to me – without guilt, without obligation. I lived the way I wanted, with whom I wanted – for no other reason than to be content with myself and what I had.
It wasn‘t perfect – but perfection isn‘t the goal. It was wholesome.

And yet, I also feel a sense of purpose when I reunite with family after time apart. But soon after, I feel the urge to leave again. It‘s something I wouldn‘t trade for the world – and yet, it isn‘t my whole world either.

Maybe, for me, purpose is about serving people without losing myself in the process.
Maybe it‘s about finding balance.
Maybe it‘s about breaking barriers and questioning old belief patterns. Maybe it’s about self-fulfillment and connection at the same time.
Maybe it’s about learning to move with the flow of the seasons – inevitable, shifting, and necessary.
Maybe it‘s not just one singular thing, but everything all at once.

Maybe that‘s purpose.
Not a grand mission or a single word, but simply this:
to belong somewhere, and to live as the truest version of myself.
And maybe – just maybe – that‘s enough.

Speaking only for myself, I know I’m ready to step into spring. I want to start planting.
I’ve been resting, preparing, and planning for more than one season. And while that time was necessary for both my mind and body, I’m ready now — ready to add to the bigger picture with a bold, bright color.

So long, keep growing. Until we meet again.