You've survived. But you haven't stopped surviving.
There are years that teach a person not to expect much. They teach him to rely mostly on himself, to always have a backup plan, not to spend money without a reason, not to believe promises easily, and not to ask for help until he has exhausted all of his own possibilities. They teach him to work when he's tired, to stay silent when he should speak, and to keep going when he'd rather stop.
Those years eventually pass. Circumstances change, better people come along, and more opportunities and safer days arrive. But the person you had to become to get through them doesn't disappear along with them.
One day, you have more than you could have ever imagined, and yet you live as if it could all disappear tomorrow. You check what has already been checked. You find it hard to let go of things to others. You don't fully know how to enjoy what you've gained because a part of you is still waiting for the next problem.
When things are going well, you look for what's wrong. When someone wants to help you, your first thought is what they'll want in return. When life finally becomes calmer, peace doesn't immediately bring you tranquility. Sometimes it brings you discomfort, because you've lived under pressure for so long that the pressure has become more familiar to you than security.
The people around you might call it responsibility, discipline, caution, or self-reliance. And they're probably right. It's just that they don't know how exhausting a life can be when you're constantly preparing for a disaster that no longer happens.
Some of the traits you're proud of today didn't come from careful choice. They came about because, at one point in your life, you had no other way to survive. You needed them then. They kept you safe, taught you a lot, and brought you to where you are.
But not everything that once saved you needs to stay with you for the rest of your life.
Maybe you don't have to be ready for the worst every morning anymore. Maybe you don't have to see every good thing as something that will soon be taken away. Maybe you can trust that something beautiful doesn't have to come at a price right away.
For years, you've learned how to endure.
Maybe now the harder part begins.
To learn how to live when you no longer have to save yourself.
From the manuscript of the book "Don't Lose Yourself While Building a Life"
Reshid Dervishi