Self Growth: Dewasa Is Berbeza

Semakin melonjak dewasa, semuanya berubah. But still my inner child is still in me, i belive everyone does.I came to ask my close friend about being DEWASA......


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By Ellia

how do i feel...

memori kanak2 mengajar kamu tentang keseronokan, how playful u can be. mereka juga tidak perlu risau akan bagaimana kehidupan sbgai seorang dewasa.. for me, khidupan kanak2 saya tidak dapat dipenuhi atas kemampuan kluarga.. but it is valuable experience. wasn't born in a silver spoon.

memiliki IQ cukup makan memberi sedikit tekanan difasa persekolahan. saya rasa diri saya hanya mampu bekerja sebagai waiters cafe di town.  😅 dengan keputusan yang tidak ada utk dibanggakan, tapi hanya keluhan yang mampu didengar. tekanan itu lah sedikit demi sedikit mendorong saya mencabar diri utk next level, merasa alam pekerjaan, merasa kesuntukan Wang, tinggal berjauhan dari keluarga, ckup makan, berjumpa dengan cinta pandang ptama yang akan pasti akan mgecewakan, persahabatan, pkhianatan, pnipuan, Dan banyak lagi..

menjadi dewasa is not that bad.. tapi menjadi kanak kanak lebih seronok berbanding menjadi seorang dewasa tapi masih berperangai keanak anakan.. Itu akan menentukan perjalanan hidup kita.

 

By Seyno

When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to grow up. I imagined adulthood as freedom, making my own decision, doing what I wanted, becoming someone strong and independent. I thought it would feel exciting, empowering, maybe even easy. I was wrong. but not entirely. It is powerful, but it’s also heavy. Much challenging than I ever expected.

 Growth, for me, feels like a quiet ache that never really goes away. It started when I lost my dad. That was the first time I realized that growing up didn’t just mean getting older, it meant facing real, irreversible loss. It meant learning how to keep going even when your heart is broken. That kind of growth doesn't feel exciting. It feels like learning to breathe underwater.

 Later, I had to move to another state for studies, then for work. That’s what I thought growing up was supposed to look like: chasing a future, building a life. But leaving meant leaving behind my parents, our home, the familiar warmth of ordinary days. Now, every time I visit, I see them growing older. I notice the little changes: the way they move slower, how they fall asleep earlier, the silent pauses in their voices. And each time I leave home again, it feels like I’m carrying guilty in my suitcase.

 There’s also the loneliness. The kind that creeps in when you're too busy to realise. Working two, sometimes three jobs a day, I barely have time to feel anything. But when the silence hits, it hits hard. I see my friends getting married, starting families, building lives I only witness through social media. I celebrate with them from afar, while wondering when or if my time will come or death will hug me first.

 And then there’s the grief of losing a friend. That one still stings. It reminded me how fragile life is, how quickly someone can become a memory. Growth sometimes feels like surviving when others don’t, and that comes with a grief no one talks about. You smile, you keep going, but deep down something’s missing.

 Festive seasons are the hardest. I rarely go home. The Christmas holidays used to be my favorite time of year, warm lights, laughter, comforting food. Now they feel like a reminder of what I miss. Of how much distance has changed me.

 So how does growth feel for me now? It feels like being tired but still standing. Like holding joy and sorrow in the same breath. Grateful for what I have and crying for what I’ve lost. It’s not the kind of growth I dreamed of as a kid, but it’s real. And somehow, despite the messiness, it’s made me become more human.

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