@fromtheinbetween: For years, I was chasing my parents’ dream, the one they hoped for: a future that felt solid and worthy of their sacrifices. So, I grounded myself in the work. Poured every ounce of energy into my studies. I even left the person I deeply loved. The guy I hurt was a good man. He is now engaged and seems to be a good partner.
And then it happened. I graduated with Latin honors, magna cum laude. My family was over the moon. People congratulated me left and right. A few months later, I passed the board exam on my first try. Everyone assumed I was on top of the world. But the truth? I wasn’t. I felt nothing.
That’s the part I’m embarrassed to admit. There are so many people who would give anything to be where I am, but I feel empty. Was I chasing the wrong thing? What do I do now?
DJ: Leaving someone you love because you believed it was necessary to fulfill a greater goal isn’t easy. It leaves a quiet ache, like a life that’s technically full but feels like something’s missing.
He’s moved on. He’s engaged. He seems to have become the kind of man you knew he could be. It’s natural to feel a mix of guilt, loss and emptiness.
You’re living proof of discipline and grit. You won. But at what cost? So when the congratulations faded and you were finally alone with your thoughts, the question is not just “What now?” It may also be “Who’s not here anymore?”
The unexpected silence after the noise of achievement may have reminded you of what you gave up to get here. You were chasing dreams shaped not just by your own hopes but by those you love, only to find the finish line quieter than expected. This duality can create internal tension.
Your feelings are valid. The emptiness isn’t a sign that you failed or that your achievements are meaningless. It’s a sign that your soul is searching for what’s next, not just in your career or academics, but in your life as a whole.
You are waking up from years of survival mode. You’re learning that dreams built on obligation, no matter how noble, don’t always translate into joy. And now that your schedule isn’t packed with exams and deadlines, your heart has space to speak. It’s saying, What about me? What about love?
Allow yourself to grieve, not just the relationship, but the dreams you thought would bring fulfillment. What you did was noble. It was selfless. But it still hurt. There is no weakness in feeling pain over something precious you had to leave behind. Let yourself cry when you need to. Your tears are proof that it mattered.
Reconnect with yourself. What parts of you did you set aside? What did you love before the chase began? You’ve spent years being who you needed to be. If no one expected anything of you, what would you do next?
Explore new definitions of success and happiness. Not everyone’s version of success is lined with medals, titles or applause. Yours might involve stillness, family or building something small that feels big to you.
You were trained to chase goals. This transition is inviting you to design a life. Seek community and support. Talk with people who can help you navigate this in-between space. You are not behind. You are beginning again, with hard-won wisdom.
And this time, you’re not just building a future. You’re building a life that finally feels like yours.
All the best!