5 Little Changes That Made a Big Difference For My Sanity

To me, this action felt like the embodiment of "taking matters into my own hands." I'm taking a stand for myself in a small yet impactful way. Flowers are synonymous to love and appreciation — two things that I need to remind myself I deserve. Growing up, they were something my mum made sure to keep around the house, mainly for herself, too. Having a small bouquet of flowers adds colour not only to the living room, but also to my daily routine. Every time I walk past those flowers, I am filled with positive sentiments. There is nothing sad about fresh-cut flowers.

My mornings used to read like this: wake up, check phone for messages, shower, put on clothes, put in headphones, get to work. Robotic. Repetitive. I used headphones to block out the world around me. But by blocking it out, I was missing out on what was happening around me. A real catch-22 situation. So, when I got to work at 9 a.m. and stayed in the office until 5 p.m., I had no interaction with the "outside world" during the daylight hours. Taking out my headphones in the morning was a small step in my personal journey of discovering my immediate environment.

It's almost automatic, that action of clicking on a person's Instagram avatar to open up a disturbingly intimate play-by-play of their day. It personally made me feel bad about myself. Why was I in my room folding laundry when other people were at Drake concerts? Why was I riding in a car with my mum when other people were taking bikini pics at the beach? What was wrong with my life? Every single day became a subconscious cycle of disappointment, of questioning my worth. I grew jealous and resented my friends because of their appearance of glamour and my lack thereof. Stories were toxic for me. So, I stopped. I stopped watching the intrusive video reels and focussed on my beautiful, quiet moments. With that change, I'm beginning to treasure my present, rather than give in to resentment.

The universal child mantra, "don't talk to strangers," is so deeply ingrained into my approach of new spaces that I was involuntarily putting up an impenetrable guard against every person I met. My tough exterior was my main source of protection. But then, I noticed a trend: it was from my exchanges with strangers, those that managed to break through my guard, that I've learned the most about the world and its many facets. By keeping strangers at a distance, I was consequently cutting myself off from newness, from something bigger than myself.

You know the drill: live fast, die young. Great idea in theory, but the thing is, I do not want to die young. I started walking at a below average pace and three things happened: my heart rate sang for joy, my stress levels decreased significantly, and I was seeing rather than just looking around me. I started taking the bus. It has its faults — it's slower than taking the train or riding in a car, and I have to carefully budget time to use it — but it's worth it. On a bus, I can really take in every stop; something that's impossible in any other transportation method. Live slow, die old.

I am on the long and winding road to true self-love and self-confidence, but with little changes, I can see a bigger, positive change in the future. I am paying attention to my own needs and I am much better for it. That makes me really happy.