Skip to main content

If I Could Be Stronger For Someone

Sometimes, I wake up and feel like I have nothing to chase. Not in a sad way, just in an I’m fine where I am way. Like, yeah, life isn’t perfect. Maybe my job isn’t what I want it to be, maybe my business isn’t growing like I hoped, maybe I don’t have that person I can be completely myself around. And instead of trying to change things, I just accept them. Because leaving, quitting, or even trying to start over feels like too much.

But then I wonder—what if I had to be stronger for someone else?

Take Tanjiro from Demon Slayer, for example. He didn’t just decide to become strong because he wanted to. He had to. He had someone to protect, someone whose life depended on him not giving up. And even when everything seemed impossible, when he could have just accepted that life was unfair, he kept going. Not for himself, but for Nezuko.

I think about that a lot. How sometimes, we only push forward because someone else needs us to. How there are days when the thought of quitting my job, shutting down a struggling business, or just walking away from everything feels tempting—but then I stop. Because who would that affect? Who would have to deal with the consequences of me giving up?

That’s why it’s hard to just leave. That’s why we keep going. Because even if we don’t realize it, we are being strong for someone. Maybe it’s family. Maybe it’s a friend who looks up to us. Maybe it’s even a future version of ourselves who deserves something better.

So maybe the trick isn’t just to push ourselves for our sake. Maybe it’s to remember that someone, somewhere, needs us to keep going, but also to be better. To grow. To not just exist, but to live.

It's not about settling for lukewarm mediocrity because it's comfortable. It's about recognizing that you're capable of more. That you owe it to yourself, and to those who rely on you, to try. To find a better job, to explore new passions, to build a life that actually excites you.

Because "keeping going" doesn't have to mean staying stagnant. It doesn't have to mean accepting a life that's "fine." It can mean pushing yourself to grow, to evolve, to become someone you're proud of.

Think of those you're being strong for. They don't need you to be a martyr, sacrificing your own happiness for them. They need you to be a role model, someone who shows them that it's possible to overcome challenges and build a fulfilling life.

So, yes, keep going. But don't just keep going in the same direction. Explore new paths. Take risks. Try things you never thought you'd try. Find a job that makes you excited to wake up in the morning. Build a business that reflects your passions.

Because being strong for someone else doesn't mean sacrificing your own potential. It means using their support as fuel to become the best version of yourself. It means showing them that you're not just surviving, you're thriving. And that they can too.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

When Speaking Up Feels Too Big

 I’ve been sitting with something for a few days now, unsure whether to even put it into words. It’s one of those situations where you start questioning your place — your role on the team, whether your thoughts carry any weight — especially when they go against a decision that’s already in motion. A few days ago, I saw a new marketing campaign at work. It ties our product to a recent military operation — one that’s still fresh, still sensitive. The idea is no longer just an idea; the deal is done, the digital posters are ready, and I’ve been asked to send them out through our official WhatsApp channel. My gut reaction? Should we really be doing this? It felt like we were trying to ride the emotional wave of something serious — and not in a thoughtful or respectful way. More like capitalizing on emotion than honoring it. But here’s the thing: I’m not in marketing. I’m a web developer. I wasn’t part of the brainstorming, and my role is just to support the rollout. Technically, it’s n...

It's Okay to Not Have a Huge Friend Circle

 The funny thing about labels, isn't it? We slap them on people as easily as we double-tap an Instagram post. "Friend." It rolls off the tongue, a casual descriptor for the person you exchange memes with or the colleague you grab lukewarm coffee with in the breakroom. But sometimes, I think we dilute the word, stretch it so thin it becomes almost meaningless. These aren't always the people who see the cracks in your carefully constructed facade and still choose to sit beside you in the quiet. The world outside the comforting chaos of school and college can feel… vast. And suddenly, the pool of potential "friends" shrinks while the pressure to network and connect in the corporate jungle swells. You find yourself nodding along to conversations that bore you, forcing smiles at jokes that don't land, all in the name of building these elusive "friendships." But what if those connections feel more like a performance? What if you're constantly edi...

Not Everything Needs Fixing

Dear you, I know I’m posting this late. No one’s checking the time, probably. No one’s refreshing the page or waiting with bated breath. But I still feel it—the lateness. Like a tap on the shoulder I can’t ignore. It’s strange, right? How even when there’s no deadline, no one chasing, you can still feel like you’re letting someone down. Maybe even yourself. The thing is—I’m never late. Not for the office. Not for meetings. Not for routine. I’ve built this rhythm over the years that makes me show up like clockwork. It's not even about being disciplined. It’s more like… survival. Like if I break my rhythm, I might fall apart a little. Mornings are predictable. That’s how I like them. I know where everything is. My shirt is folded just right. My keys are where they’re supposed to be. My pen is always, always in the same place. And I know that might sound obsessive. But it’s not about control. Not really. It’s about peace. It’s the only kind I know. I don’t do well when things are out ...