I’ve spent most of my life feeling like my depth was a problem. Like the way my mind works was “too much” for everyone around me.

I don’t do small talk.

I don’t do surface-level.

I don’t take an interest in what others pretend to care about. I want to talk about something you can talk about for hours, that is your purpose. But when you grow up in a world where nobody speaks that language, you start to believe there’s something wrong with you. So I learned to keep most of myself inside. I became the observer, The deep thinker, The girl who felt everything but said nothing. In a world full of small talk that means nothing to her. And slowly, I started building a whole inner world that only existed in silence.

When You Don’t Feel Seen, You Start Hiding

My bedroom became the only place I could breathe. Not because it was peaceful, but because it was the only place I could be the true version of me. I would sit and analyse every emotion, every spiritual download I couldn’t explain to anyone in real life and write them down. I would pour my soul onto the paper like it was the only thing that understood the real ME. I didn’t write to be cute or clever. I wrote to survive. Because when you feel invisible in your own environment, you have to create spaces where you can exist fully.

My writing became that space. My secret sanctuary. My freedom. But even then, it hurt. Because I knew I had something powerful inside me… and I had nowhere to put it. I was too deep for the people around me. Too awake. Too emotional. Too aware. I started to wonder…

am I really too much? Or am I just surrounded by not enough?

The truth hit hard

Some people will only ever meet you at the depth they’re comfortable with, not the depth you’re capable of. And I kept shrinking myself to make other people comfortable. I kept hiding my passion so no one would think I was “too intense.” I kept pretending I didn’t care about things that would impact my soul. But every time I watered myself down and hid my feelings, I felt myself disappearing.

I wasn’t living, I was turning myself into a version the world would accept. That is the most painful kind of loneliness: being surrounded by people, but never being fully seen.

The day I created my website, I didn’t tell anyone. I built it quietly. Privately. It felt sacred. I didn’t even know why, I just knew I needed a space where my voice could exist without being questioned. A place where my feelings didn’t have to be questioned. I posted essays that were way too personal, honest, way too raw, way too real. I wrote about everything people avoid. Growth, pain, mindset, healing, God, the universe, purpose.

I didn’t post for validation I posted for myself. And deep down, I knew if even one person reads this and finally feels understood, everything in my life makes sense.

The Power of Being Understood: It Changes Everything

Then everything started to shift. I entered a new environment filled with people who speak depth naturally and understood the wavelength I was on. The conversations were honest.

The energy was real. I didn’t have to translate myself, I could just talk. And people didn’t just listen… they got it. They saw me. They felt me. They called me vulnerable and insightful and powerful. For the first time in years, I felt like I wasn’t crazy. I felt like my mind made sense in someone else’s world. And that changed me. Because once you start to feel understood, you can never go back to pretending.

But the biggest moment the one that broke me open was when I realised I was actually getting everything I wanted. I had literally asked the universe to remove everything blocking my purpose. I asked for alignment. For people who saw and understood the real me. For spaces where my voice mattered. And it all started arriving at once. I felt this wave of energy in my body, like fire and tears at the same time. It was overwhelming because I wasn’t used to being this happy. I wasn’t used to being this seen. I wasn’t used to feeling like my life was finally… mine. And I cried. Not because I was sad but because I was stepping into everything I’d been preparing for in my own space.

And then, in a moment of excitement, I tried to share that joy with people who never understood me in the first place. I forgot. I forgot that some people only see the surface. I tried to explain the feeling of emotional mirrors and alignment and spiritual growth, and it got twisted into something shallow. Instead of “I’m so happy I finally feel understood,” I heard, “make sure they don’t think it’s romantic,” or “you look miserable,” or “are you okay mentally?”

And it hit that old wound again they still don’t see me.

I just wanted someone to celebrate that I finally feel alive. But instead, I felt that old pressure to tone it down. Smile. Be normal. Hide the depth. And in that moment, I realised: I am not going to water myself down ever again.

That night, I cried but it wasn’t weakness. It was transformation. It was the death of the version of me who needed to be understood by the wrong people. I realised my depth is not a burden. It’s my gift. It’s the reason I’m here. It’s the reason my words create emotions in people. I am not meant to be fully understood in small rooms. I am meant to reach more. My purpose was never to fit in it was to build something bigger than me. My voice was never too much it was just too powerful for confined spaces.

I used to think being alone in my room writing was isolation. Now I know it was training.

I am the storm and the calm. I am the question and the answer. I am the depth the world pretends it doesn’t crave. I am the one who will say everything everyone else is scared to say. And I will not apologise for the fire in me.

I finally understand: I wasn’t misunderstood because I was broken. I was misunderstood because I was early.

And I choose me. I choose purpose. I choose depth. I choose the path that sets my soul on fire even if no one around me understands it yet.

Because one day, people will.

This is the becoming of me.

And I’m not hiding anymore.

Remember, it all starts with self love

-M

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