Paradox

There’s something about paradoxes that really gets to me. I can’t stand them, but at the same time, I can’t seem to escape them either. You know when you think you’ve got everything figured out, and then something comes along and completely messes with your head? It’s like living in two different realities, and suddenly everything feels way more complicated than it should. One minute, you’re sure of something, and the next, you’re questioning it all over again.

Take “I don’t care.” I’ll tell someone I don’t care about something, but as soon as those words leave my mouth, I’m thinking… am I actually convincing them, or am I just trying to convince myself? The more I say it, the more it feels like I’m trying to talk myself into not being bothered. And then it hits me: maybe I do care, but I don’t want to admit it. It’s like overthinking, right? Always questioning if you’re being honest or just saying things to make it easier.

But here’s where it gets even messier. Sometimes, I genuinely don’t care, and yet, when someone questions me, like, “Are you sure you’re not just saying that because you’re hurt?” it throws me off. Suddenly, I’m caught in this weird loop. Now I feel like I have to explain that I’m not hurt, which, ironically, makes it look like I’m defending myself because I am hurt. It’s a trap. No matter how much I insist I’m fine, the more I try to clarify, the more it seems like I’m hiding something. And then I’m stuck wondering, does trying to prove I’m not hurt actually make me seem more hurt?

It’s like, the harder you push to show you’re unaffected, the more people start to believe you are. It’s that frustrating paradox where the act of explaining yourself can make the very thing you’re denying seem true. So now, not only am I dealing with whatever the original issue was, but I’m also stuck in this loop of second-guessing how I’m coming across. It’s exhausting, and it makes you wonder if it’s even worth trying to explain in the first place. Sometimes, it feels like no matter what you do, you can’t win.

Then there’s the whole “homebody” paradox. I love staying in, don’t get me wrong. But sometimes when I say I’m staying in because I’m a homebody, I can’t help but wonder: is it because I really want to, or am I just saying that because it sounds better? Do I genuinely love the comfort of my own space, or am I just avoiding social situations? There’s this pressure to be one thing or the other, but the truth is, sometimes I want to go out, and other times, I just want to chill. It’s all a bit blurry, to be honest.

And relationships? Oh, they’re full of paradoxes too. I’ve thought I loved someone, but then I catch myself asking: do I actually love them, or do I just love the idea of being in love? Is it about the person themselves, or the comfort of being in a relationship? And then, there’s this other thing. You crave closeness, but at the same time, you’re scared of letting someone in. You want them to stick around, but you’re pushing them away because being vulnerable feels risky. It’s like wanting the connection, but being terrified of what it could mean. It’s a mess, honestly, and no matter how much you try to figure it out, the lines always feel blurry.

The career stuff? Same. I can’t be the only one who feels like I’m not really doing what I’m “supposed” to be doing. I want to be successful, but what does success even mean? Do I follow my passion, or do I take the safe route and aim for a stable job that offers security? And here’s the thing: what if I can’t have both? The more I think about it, the more I realise I’m stuck in a loop, wanting everything but not knowing what to choose. It’s like a never-ending back-and-forth, and after a while, it gets tiring trying to figure out the “right” choice.

Adulthood’s another one. I’m constantly told I need to be more responsible, more independent, but then I think about when things were simpler. When I was younger, I didn’t have to worry about bills or making sure my career’s on track. Life was easier back then. But then, growing up has its perks too. The freedom to make my own choices, to do things my way... that’s great. But there’s something comforting about the simplicity of being younger, when the hardest decision was what to eat for lunch. So, do I want the freedom of adulthood, or the simplicity that comes with not having to “adult” all the time?

And social media? It’s a trip. I’ve caught myself posting something on Instagram, thinking I’m sharing something I’m proud of, but then I wonder: am I doing this because I actually want people to see it, or am I just trying to convince myself that my life’s going the way I want it to? Everyone else seems to have it all together, right? Everyone’s out here grinding, living their best life. And then I’m like, why do we put up this perfect façade? I think, in a way, we’re all just trying to convince ourselves we’ve got it together when, in reality, we’re all just figuring it out. But then again... who’s really got it all figured out?

And personal growth? That’s another paradox I can’t shake. We’re told we need to always grow, evolve, be better versions of ourselves. But what happens when you change so much that you don’t even recognise yourself anymore? You start wondering if this constant push to improve is actually making you better, or if it’s just stripping away parts of who you were. Sometimes, it feels like the more we try to grow, the more we lose touch with who we were before. It’s like, am I becoming who I’m supposed to be, or am I just trying to be who I think I should be?

I guess that’s the thing with paradoxes, they don’t let you rest. They make you question everything you think you know, and by the time you think you’ve figured it out, another question pops up. It’s like trying to catch a bus that keeps leaving you behind, no matter how fast you run. But maybe that’s just life, right? We’re all just trying to figure it out, dealing with contradictions and conflicting feelings. But somehow, we’re still moving forward.