Drifting Days, Shifting Selves

Change is hard.

Changing yourself? Brutal.

And trying to change other people? Pointless.

Eventually, you have to stop waiting on others to grow. Not everyone wants to. Not everyone thinks they need to. And honestly, it’s not your responsibility.

What is your responsibility is how you respond. How much of their chaos you let into your peace. Whether you carry their weight or finally set it down.

Only you can choose how you react to them. Only you can choose if their well-being or attitude affects you.

Lately, I’ve been learning how to respond differently. Not perfectly—just differently. Some days that means distance. Other days it means silence. And most days, it means choosing myself, again and again, even when it feels unnatural.

I’m deep in the middle of change right now. Like tectonic-shift-level change. Some days feel like I’m floating between versions of myself: the old one who tolerated too much and the new one still learning how to say “no” with her chest.

I’m tucked away writing in my peaceful corner when my life is more chaotic than ever….

It’s strange how peace shows up in slivers—moments where you feel like you’re getting it together, even when everything’s still very much unraveling. But maybe that’s how transformation works. Quietly. Messily. Without applause.

When I look at my life and all the places I’ve traveled, I’ve realized that change is inevitably good… but it also slaps you in the face when you least expect it.

And there’s this one quote—this line that follows me everywhere:

“If you travel far enough, you meet yourself.” -David Mitchell:

I saw it for the first time in London, on my very first solo trip. I didn’t fully understand it, but it lingered.

I saw it again in China—painted on a wall I was just passing by, like a message meant only for me.

And now? I haven’t seen it in L.A. Not yet. But I feel it. In the tension, in the discomfort, in the small moments of growth that no one else sees. I feel myself meeting… myself.

Because change isn’t just about becoming—it’s about unlearning.

I’ve realized I’m not always right.

Experiencing new cultures humbles you. Having open, honest conversations humbles you to your core!

And that humility? That’s where the real work begins.

So no, I don’t have it all figured out. But I’m learning. I’m drifting. I’m adapting.

Just remember….

Where there’s peace, there’s chaos—and only you can decide if the storm will consume you, or carve you into something unshakable.

Sincerely,

Victoria Shirin