Choose Compassion, Change Your Life

I’m writing this blog post for me. For the past versions of myself whom I look at fondly, wishing I could hug and tend to her, whispering words of comfort into her hair. I picture her sitting on the edge of her bed, eyes swollen from crying, believing she was alone—when really, she never was.

And for the future versions of me too–the woman I’ll become but don’t know yet. She’ll read this one day. She’ll need compassion.

The older I get, the more I understand the human condition. Put simply, to be human is to love and to lose–sometimes in small ways, sometimes in Earth-shattering ways–and yet, despite loss, to keep searching for meaning and purpose in our limited days. 

We bury loved ones, we outgrow friends, we watch dreams die slow and quiet deaths—and still, morning comes. Still, we rise.

We wake up and, whether we realize it or not, we choose who we want to be. That’s the quiet miracle of being alive: the chance to choose again.

How beautiful is that? On the days when we just can’t seem to find the will to live, we try. And on the days when a dream has come to fruition, we bask and work to keep the dream alive. 

Of course, we are shaped by our upbringing, our genes and our culture. But we are not trapped by them. Every day, we can choose differently than the day before.

You may have heard people say, “Everyone is only thinking about themselves,” which is true. We’re only human. We can only understand others through the lens of our own experiences. 

Because of this universal truth, I used to think humans are selfish by nature. We covet. We crave. We desire. And in some ways, it unifies us as much as it divides us. 

But what if our grasping isn’t greed? What if it’s a wound, asking to be healed? Stay with me. 

Why do we want what we want? A beautiful home, a partner who loves us, a career that shines, money to spare, a passport filled with stamps. Social media shoves these images in our faces, feeding the endless scroll of “day in my life” videos and curated photo dumps. And yes, I’ve played into that cycle, too.

But beneath every desire is usually a feeling. A house isn’t just a house—it represents stability, safety and comfort. A partner isn’t just a partner—they’re acceptance, belonging and love. The car, the job, the picture-perfect life: maybe what we’re really chasing is how we think they’ll make us feel.

Ask yourself: If I stripped away the object of my desire, what feeling would remain underneath it?

Here’s the radical part: we can give ourselves those feelings, right now. We can practice stability in our routines. We can love and accept ourselves as we are. We can savor comfort in small, ordinary moments. And often, when we do, those external desires have a way of flowing toward us naturally.

For most of my life, I maintained a pessimistic mindset. Operating in a hyper-independent, stubborn and all-or-nothing mentality seeped into and tainted all aspects of my life. It was like drowning on dry land—arms flailing, lungs burning—and realizing the only way out was to stop fighting myself.

It wasn’t until the pillars of my life collapsed that I understood this mentality was not only unsustainable, it was also ruining me. 

I had to start from scratch. Build from the ground up, question my beliefs, and challenge my own status quo. 

I had to remind myself that I can choose who I want to be in this world. So, who is that, exactly? That’s where the work starts.

I’ve written about self-discipline, self-reflection, perfectionism, and time management, which all are valid and important aspects of knowing thyself. In my mind, they serve as fundamental building blocks that structure or derail a person’s life. 

But something I’ve grappled with for years is self-compassion, grace and understanding my inner world. 

Perhaps I felt unworthy of such selfless concepts, thinking I had to earn them through relentless hard work and devotion. I thought I had to bleed first before I was allowed to rest. When really, these were old friends disguised as foreign notions, waiting for me to return with open arms. Ready to embrace. The prodigal daughter back from her quest.  

I know this can seem and feel very woo woo (my Venus is in Aquarius in the 12th house, I am the epitome of woo woo), but I’ve never felt so certain that compassion is the heart of who we are as humans. If discipline, confidence, and reflection are the bones and muscles of our body, then compassion is the heart. It is the pulse beneath every other effort. 

Without it, we can live, but only half-alive—functioning, but never feeling whole.

It circulates into all that we do and all that we are. It pumps grace into our psyche and beats a constant rhythm of our inner beliefs. 

Without self-compassion and grace, who are we? 

In place of my defeatist mindset, I’ve intentionally worked on implementing self-compassion into my life. Giving myself grace when I’ve failed myself or others. Forgiving myself for not reaching my own goals or meeting my own standards. Loving myself in spite of my flaws. 

I don’t always find the good, but I keep looking. That’s what saves me.

In the midst of adversity or uncertainty, I try to remember the smallest good thing—the sun warming my window, a laugh that slipped out when I wanted to cry—and tell myself, “At least I have this, and I can try again.”

And maybe that’s the point of it all. To keep choosing who we want to be. To see our selfishness as longing. To offer compassion—for ourselves, for others, for the messy human condition we all share.

Because in the end, that’s all we really have: each other, and the way we choose to love. Even when it feels impossible. Especially then.

So I’m writing this for me. For the girl I was, who didn’t know yet how resilient she could be. For the woman I’ll become, who I trust will need this gentle reminder someday. And maybe, if you’re reading this, for you, too.

I urge you to look within. Maybe you’ll be surprised by who it is you find.