I broke a promise to someone who was very important to me. It wasn’t a colleague, a parent, or even a friend. I broke a promise that I made to myself. I did not have a good childhood. I did not have a good homelife. I had people depending on me and more responsibility on my narrow child shoulders than many adults.

The one thing that got me through the hard days (and that was most of them) was the constant silent promise that I made to myself that if I could just grin and bear long enough, then one day I could make it out and finally be happy. I swore to myself that one day I would live my life on my own terms. That I would never again have to contort and shrink myself into something that I am not in order to survive.

But somewhere along the way, I broke that promise.

Wanna know the worst part? I didn’t even realize it until I was standing in what should have been one of the proudest moments of my life. Instead of joy, I felt hollow. Instead of pride, I felt betrayed. And I only had myself to blame.

A Broken Promise

When I was a child, I had a fire inside of me. I believed in big colorful dreams and wild possibilities. Everyone from the pope to the mailman could have told me that my dreams were childish and unrealistic, but I was so stubborn and ornery it would’ve only made me dig in even deeper. I knew that the world was full of color and that I didn’t want to settle for the gray version of life that people seemed determined to press upon me.

But as the years passed, I slowly let fear, expectations, and outside voices dictate my choices. Family, community, and society all had their version of what “success” looked like: a respectable career, family duty, and shiny accolades to set on a shelf.

I told myself that I was just being practical. That I could chase my dreams later, once I was “safe.” But later never came. I worked harder and harder, keeping my head down as I sprinted towards milestones that looked great on paper but had very little to do with the life that I truly wanted.

I thought I was fulfilling my promise. In reality, I’d only buried it.

The Moment of Realization

It happened at a moment that should have been triumphant. I had accomplished something big, something other people told me I should be proud of. By every outside measure, I had “made it.”But after the applause died down, and I sat alone in the quiet, all I felt was a heavy emptiness. Instead of pride, I felt like an imposter in my own life. Instead of freedom, I felt trapped.

I sat on my couch and thought back over the long road that had brought me here, and the truth hit me: I had toiled and sacrificed for years chasing someone else’s definition of success. I’d forced myself back into a mold that didn’t fit. I had arrived at the wrong destination. I had failed.

The emotions that followed were heavy. Sadness. Anger. Regret. Overwhelm. Not at anyone else but at myself. I knew better. And I had failed to honor the one person whose opinion mattered most: me.

Letting Yourself Down

There’s no sugarcoating it, failing yourself hurts more than failing anyone else. When you break a promise to someone else, you can apologize, explain, even make amends. But when you betray yourself, you’re left staring in the mirror at the one person who should have had your best interest at heart.

I’d wasted time, energy, and resources plowing towards goals that weren’t mine. I had achieved the “dream” only to discover it was a gilded cage. Shiny, polished, impressive, but suffocating all the same.

I thought back over those many years of chaos and coping and I knew one thing for sure: If my 11-year old self could see me now, she would have read me for filth. She would’ve called me out for burying her dreams under heavy stones of fear and excuses. And she would’ve been right.

The Decision

Eventually, I had to stop running from the truth and face it head-on. I sat down with my list of goals—the ones I had so proudly checked off—and realized that not one of them reflected what I truly wanted for life.

That was the breaking point. I decided that I could either stay in the gilded cage of my current life. Or I could risk the unknown, release the golden handcuffs, and finally chase the dreams that I had abandoned.

Friends and family tried to talk me out of it. They played devil’s advocate (as usual), reminding me of the security I’d be giving up and the uncertainty I’d be walking into. But in my heart, I knew staying would cost me more than leaving ever could.

So I made the hard choice. I let go of things. I let go of people. I let go of the version of myself that only lived for external approval.

And in that letting go, I found myself again.

Rebuilding From the Inside Out

Choosing myself wasn’t easy. At first, the losses felt heavy—the creature comforts, the steady path, the relationships that couldn’t survive my growth. I questioned myself more than once.

But slowly, something shifted. For the first time in years, I felt peace. My wins (though admittedly smaller at first) were really mine. My days were aligned with my own desires, not someone else’s expectations.

The more I leaned into what I loved, the lighter I became. I discovered that success without authenticity is just decoration. True fulfillment comes when you live in alignment with who you really are.

The Lessons Learned

This journey has been chocked full of life lessons. Has it been painful? Yes. Was it all necessary, absolutely.

Here’s a few things that I’ve learned:

The worst betrayal is the betrayal of self. Because if there is one person you should be able to rely on to do right by you, it is yourself. Be someone that you can trust.
Fear has killed more dreams than failure ever could. Fear kept me playing small for years, and I regret letting it waste my time. The worst case scenarios never came to pass, and there were many great opportunities that I missed.
Everything that I need to succeed is already within me. I am resilient, smart, capable, and talented. I don’t need outside validation to prove that.
Regret doesn’t have to define you. The only thing I truly regret is not making the change sooner. In the past, I allowed rigid habits and stale goals to rule my life. Now it is much easier for me to shift gears and pivot when I perceive when I am going in the wrong direction. Now, I am open to change and I leave room for magic to happen.

The F-Word Reimagined

For a long time, I treated failure like the dirtiest F-word I could imagine. Something to avoid at all costs.

But now I see it differently. Failure isn’t the enemy. It’s fear that robs us of our dreams. Failure is just a stepping stone to the bigger vision. It’s proof you tried. It’s information that can guide you closer to where you’re meant to be.

The only true failure is betraying yourself and never making amends. Don’t let fear direct your path. This is your life. Don’t waste your days living someone elses.

The F-Word I Hoped to Nix from My Vocabulary