It’s kind of ironic, really. My last blog post was about trying to juggle everything life throws at me while still saying somewhat sane and since then, everything has fallen apart. Like, full “what the fuck is going on” levels of chaos. I said I was finding balance, and the universe basically said we’ll see about that.

To be honest, I didn’t even know where to start with this post. Every time I’ve gone to write, I’ve just stared at the blank page and thought ‘what’s the point?’. But writing has always been the one thing that helps me untangle my thoughts, so here I am, untangling away.

There are personal things going on that I won’t go into. Not because I don’t want to talk about them, trust me oversharing is one of my strongest skills, but because some things are too raw to turn into words just yet. All I’ll say is it’s been heavy. The kind of heavy that sits in your chest even when you’re laughing, and you can’t really explain it to anyone because you don’t even fully get it yourself.

In the middle of all this emotional chaos, I made a decision that completely changed everything: I dropped out of uni.

Yeah, you read that right. The girl who has spent the last few years trying to hold it all together, decided to let it go.

It wasn’t impulsive. It wasn’t because I couldn’t handle the work or didn’t care anymore. In fact, it was the opposite – I cared too much. Too much about doing everything right, too much about not disappointing people, too much about proving I could finish what I started. And somewhere along the line, I forgot that I was allowed to change my mind.

Leaving uni has honestly been one of the hardest choices I’ve ever made. I spent weeks going back and forth, convincing myself that I’d regret it or that I’d be throwing everything away. I felt like a failure before I’d even done it. I kept hearing that voice in my head saying “everyone else is finishing their degree, what’s wrong with you?”. But that voice doesn’t know me like I do. It doesn’t know the weight of everything else I’ve been carrying.

I chose to leave because I needed to. Because my mental health was quietly slipping away from me, and I could feel myself becoming someone I didn’t recognise. And because I finally admitted that what I was studying just didn’t fit me anymore. I kept trying to force it, like wearing jeans that used to fit perfectly but now cut off your circulation every time you sit down. It wasn’t that it was bad, it just wasn’t me.

So I’m pursuing counselling full-time instead. Which, if you had told me a year ago, probably would have made me laugh. But when I think about the kind of person I am – the way I’ve always cared too much, felt too deeply, and tried to help people even when I couldn’t help myself – it actually makes perfect sense. It feels like something I’m meant to do. Something that uses all the parts of me I used to think were ‘too much’.

Still, even though I know it’s right, it doesn’t mean it’s easy. I’ve had days where I’ve felt confident and sure of my decision, and others where I’ve cried in the shower because I convinced myself I’ve ruined my future. I’ve had to remind myself over and over that changing direction doesn’t mean you’ve failed, it just means you’ve evolved. And yeah it sounds like something you’d find on a Pinterest quote board, but it’s the truth.

It’s weird how much guilt can attach itself to doing something good for yourself. I made this decision for me, but I’ve still caught myself worrying what other people will think. Will they think I gave up? Will they think I couldn’t handle it? It’s exhausting trying to live for other people’s opinions when half of them don’t even have their own lives together.

I think that’s been one of the biggest lessons lately: learning to stop seeking validation for choices that only affect me. It sounds obvious, but it’s not easy when you’ve spent years trying to meet everyone’s expectations. You start to confuse their approval with your own sense of worth. And when that approval disappears, you start wondering if you’re even doing the right thing.

There’s also this weird pressure that comes with being in your twenties, like you’re supposed to have your life sorted by now. Everyone’s posting their graduation pics and their new jobs but you’re just sitting there trying to remember if you paid your Clearpay this month or not. It’s a weird in-between stage of life: too young to have it all figured out, but too old to blame your bad decisions on being a teenager.

But honestly? I don’t think anyone has it figured out. Some people are just better at pretending they do. And I’m kind of done pretending.

I’m not going to lie and say I’m thriving right now because I’m really not. I’m barely hanging on, trying to figure things out literally one hour at a time. Some days I feel like I’m on top of things, others I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. But even on the bad days, I’m trying to remind myself that I’m still moving forward. Even if it’s at snail pace.

There’s something freeing about letting go of the idea that everything has to make sense. Because right now, not much does. I’ve stopped trying to force meaning into everything. Sometimes things just suck for a bit, and that’s okay. Sometimes life isn’t about learning the lesson straight away, sometimes it’s just about making it through the other side.

I used to think healing meant being positive all the time, or pretending I was fine until I actually was. But now I realise it’s more about being honest with yourself even when the truth isn’t pretty. Healing is messy. It’s crying in the middle of the night and then laughing 2 minutes later because your playlist shuffled from a heartbreak ballad to a dance tune. It’s feeling like a failure one day and then waking up the next with a bit of hope again.

And that’s kind of where I’m at. Somewhere in between. Not broken, but not fully okay either. Just figuring it out, again.

There are still things I’m working through that I can’t talk about yet, but they’ve taught me a lot about myself. Like how strong I actually am, even when I don’t feel it. How I can still find humour in the worst situations. How I can be completely lost but still keep showing up.

I think that’s what I want this chapter of my life to be about – showing up, even when it’s hard. Not for anyone else, but for me. Because I’ve spent too long putting myself last and I’m done doing that.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all this chaos, it’s that sometimes things have to fall apart before they fall into place. Sometimes the breakdown is just the universe’s really dramatic way of redirecting you. And yeah, I wish the universe could maybe be a little less theatrical about it next time, but I get it.

The last few months have humbled me in ways I can’t even begin to describe. They’ve forced me to slow down, to stop pretending I can control everything. And even though it’s been rough, I feel like I’m finally learning to just let things be. To trust that maybe, even in the mess, there’s something working out for me behind the scenes.

I don’t know exactly where my life is going right now. All I have is the belief that I’m doing what’s right for me and that’s enough.

And maybe that’s the whole point. Maybe life isn’t supposed to be perfectly balanced all the time like I thought. Maybe it’s about accepting that sometimes you’ll drop the ball, sometimes you’ll make decisions that scare you, and sometimes you’ll feel completely lost but you’ll still keep going.

So yeah, things have fallen apart. But weirdly, I think that’s okay. Because sometimes, falling apart is just the first step to building something better.

I’m trying to take it day by day, trust the process, and not overthink the fact that the ‘process’ currently looks like me in my pjs in the middle of the day eating crap and binging reality tv. Progress looks different for everyone, right?

At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

So, to sum up where I’m at: confused, emotional, slightly unhinged, but still hopeful. Trying to figure out who I am outside of what I thought I was supposed to be. Trying to heal, grow, and find peace in the middle of the storm.

And honestly, even though it’s been hell, I think I’ll come out of it better. Stronger. Softer. More me.

For now, I’m just letting the universe do its thing…and hoping it chills the fuck out a bit pretty soon.

— Lilly x