Reclaiming the Morning with Compassion
I went to bed at 10 last night and woke up at 5:30.
Strangely, when I sleep before 9:30, I often wake around 4:30.
So when I saw the time this morning, my first thought was:
“It’s too late for my morning walk… I’m losing willpower.”
But this time, I caught it — that old voice of self-blame.
I didn’t let it spiral.
Instead, I paused, took a breath, and chose compassion:
“You’re still doing beautifully. 5:30 is still early.”
And just like that, I reclaimed the morning.
On Self-Compassion
I went for a walk in the park — the one we once shared.
And I thought of him again.
Should I blame myself for still missing him?
No.
I choose self-compassion.
For years, I felt unseen. Unworthy.
I gave everything to my family, yet felt increasingly taken for granted.
But in his eyes…
I was strong. Powerful.
Determined. Disciplined. Full of willpower.
Charming and radiant — with energy like a teenager.I said I was short. He said I was well-proportioned — even sexy.
I said my eyes were small. He said they were perfect for my face.
I said my skin wasn’t pale. He said he loved its warm tone.
He saw me — in a way I hadn’t seen myself in years.
For someone who has long lacked self-confidence and sought external validation — not out of vanity, but out of wounding — to receive sincere, positive affirmation from someone she admires, someone she finds genuine, grounded, and unattached…
…it can be life-shifting.
So yes, I miss him.
But missing someone doesn’t mean I’m stuck.
It means I’ve known love.
It means I remember how beautiful I felt in his presence — and in my own.
Not every soul is touched in this lifetime.
But if yours has been — even once —
By love, by truth, by beauty, by someone who truly saw you —
Then it’s only natural to remember.
So no — I don’t blame myself for this encounter.
And I don’t blame myself for missing him.
Every time I miss him,
It’s a reminder —
Of how deeply lovable I am.
Compassion for Others
Sometimes… he doesn’t reply to my messages.
It’s okay.
I didn’t reply to his message for almost four months.
My mom always blames me — and only me.
But I’m starting to see:
She holds high expectations.
She sees my potential…
And perhaps she fears I’m wasting it.Her blame may be her disappointment — not in me, but in the life she couldn’t live herself.
My dad was always so cheap with me.
But now I understand:
He lived through hardship.
He clung to scarcity to survive.
He’s too old, maybe too afraid, to shift his mindset now.
My husband escapes into video games into wee hours.
But now I try to use compassion:
He’s living a life his father chose for him.
He was raised to be obedient — not free.
He never broke through the mold.
So he escapes to another world to cope with the pressure he feels in this one.
My in-laws say I’m too demanding.
But I see now:
They are also harsh with themselves.
They deny their own needs.
Their frugality toward me is a reflection of how little they allow themselves to receive.
Choosing Compassion
Compassion for others doesn’t mean I agree.
It doesn’t mean I’ll accept mistreatment.
It simply means:
I see the pain beneath the pattern.
I choose to understand — rather than carry more blame.
Their behavior is not about my worth.
It’s about their story.
And I choose to tell a new one —
Rooted in compassion.
Energy in Action
Emotions are energy in action.
When I blame myself or blame others,
that energy becomes heavy, contracting inward.
It drains me.
It closes my heart.
It keeps me small.
But when I choose self-compassion or compassion for others,
the energy shifts —
it expands, softens, heals.
It moves through me like light.
It lifts me up.
Blame keeps me stuck in the past.
Compassion opens the door to freedom.
So now, I ask myself in every moment:
Is this energy helping me grow?
Or is it causing the leakage of my energy?
Because I get to choose.
I choose compassion.
I choose energy that frees me.