The Person That I Once Was

It Started With a Feeling…

It's been a few days where I don't quite feel like myself. Not entirely lost, not exactly found - just somewhere in between. When people used to say, "you'll lose yourself over time," I thought it was just one of those things people said when they were bored or broken. But now, I know.

If you don’t hold on to yourself with both hands, you might just watch yourself slip away - slowly, quietly, and almost politely. I didn’t see it coming. But now, I feel it. In my skin. In my thoughts. In the silence after I close my laptop. Something’s different.

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The Guy I Used to Be

Back then, life felt predictable - and that was a comfort I never realized I’d miss.

I had a routine. A rhythm. A life that made sense, even on bad days. I was in the corporate grind, a 9-to-5 guy with a badge, a system, and a desk that somehow became a part of me. Daily stand-ups, deadlines, Jira tickets, and yet - always time for those silly chai breaks with colleagues who turned into close friends. Evenings were for unwinding. Weekends were for living.

First-day-first-show movie releases - that was my thing. Catching a new film before spoilers hit the group chat felt like a ritual.

There were people to hang out with, spots in the city I could reach blindfolded, jokes that didn’t need explaining, and conversations that didn’t need subtitles.

And cricket? That wasn’t just a game - it was a season of emotions. I watched every tournament like it was personal. IPL nights, match predictions with friends, the memes, the highs, the heartbreaks - I lived all of it.

When I got tired, I went home. When I got bored, I made a plan.

Trips, late-night drives, food deliveries that knew my order before I clicked.

Festivals weren’t lonely - they were loud. Lit up. Familiar. Just a text to Mom saying, “Coming home this weekend,” and she’d already be making my favorite dish.

I didn’t realize how much of me was built around the world I knew - until I stepped out of it.

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And Then, Everything Changed

The Person I Am Now

These days, my mornings begin with the sound of a kettle. Not someone else's, not from a roadside stall, not while standing with a bunch of friends - it’s mine. Made by me, for me. Three meals a day. No food deliveries, no shared laughter while ordering the usual. Just a YouTube recipe and the hope that today’s rice won’t feel like gravel.

I walk down streets where no one knows my name. Unfamiliar faces. And yet, someone always smiles - and that tiny human moment is sometimes enough to carry me through the day.

There’s a certain silence here that I’m still learning how to live with. Not run away from.

There are days I pause mid-task and ask myself, “What exactly am I doing here?” And in that very moment, I remember. I came here chasing something. A dream, a degree, a version of me I haven’t met yet. Maybe the path is foggy. But the destination still matters.

Calling old friends is a strategic thing now - thanks to time zones. You can’t just say “bro, you free?” and expect a reply. But strangely, even with that space, the love hasn’t faded.

And in that same breath - I’m surrounded by new people, new opportunities, new chances to rewrite myself.

I’ve started building things just to pass time.
Tiny projects. Blog drafts. Side ideas.
Things I might have laughed at before, now becoming little pieces of sanity.

I’m still me… just quieter.
More observant.
More alone - but maybe less lonely than I expected.

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It’s Okay to Outgrow Who You Were

You change. Not all at once. Not dramatically. But slowly, quietly, and often without noticing. You wake up one day and realize you’re not the same person who laughed the loudest in college corridors. You don’t react the same way. Don’t crave the same things. And sometimes… you miss that older version of yourself. Fiercely.

But here’s the thing no one tells you - it’s okay.
It’s okay to miss who you were.
It’s okay to look in the mirror and not fully recognize yourself yet.
It’s okay to feel like a beginner again.

Because you’re not broken.
You’re just… in progress.

We’re all constantly shedding parts of ourselves - mindsets, habits, people, places. That doesn’t make us less. It makes us human. It means we’re growing, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts.

And the person you are becoming?
They deserve patience too.
They may not have it all figured out.
But they’re trying - and that’s more than enough.
Maybe they don’t want to get lost.

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The Becoming

I may not be the same as I used to. I may not walk into rooms where everyone knows me. But I’m learning to smile at strangers, cook without burning things (mostly), and sit with my thoughts without needing to escape them.

There’s more life here than I expected. Different, yes. But rich. With every unfamiliar street, I feel a new layer of me forming. With every little challenge, I realize I’m stronger than I thought.

I don’t think I’ve lost myself. I think I’ve just stepped into a version of me I hadn’t met before.

So to anyone reading this - missing their old self, old city, old people.
Just know: You’re not fading.
You’re evolving.
And trust me, you’re not alone in that.

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For You, If You’re In This Too

If you’re going through a phase where you feel disconnected from who you used to be - whether it’s because of a new city, a new job, a breakup, or just life doing its unpredictable thing - take a breath.

You don’t have to rush to ‘find yourself’ again. Sometimes the best thing you can do is stay still, stay kind to yourself, and let the new version of you rise when it’s ready.

Start small. Cook a new meal. Walk a different road.

Speak to a stranger. Start something without knowing where it’ll go.

You’ll be surprised how healing those ordinary moments can be.

The old you isn’t gone.
They just made space for someone wiser.
And the new you?
They’re still unfolding - layer by layer, day by day.