In a society that prizes constant progression and endless productivity, I forgot how to slow down and cherish the simple joys around me. Evening walks in my neighbourhood, joking in class, and my dad’s laughter—their absence taught me a painful lesson to treasure every moment before they’re gone.

Mistaking unrealistic social media standards for a guidebook to success as a naive teenager, I studied relentlessly in isolation. I used to skip dinner conversations and hangouts, believing they were merely distractions. Through socialising beyond my comfort zone again, I outgrew these unhealthy habits. Eventually, I rediscovered the beauty in the life I already had.

This summer, a devastating earthquake wrecked my neighbourhood into ruins, followed by my dad’s passing from his declining health. These sudden events forced me to leave behind years of memories in Naypyidaw and rebuild my life in Yangon. Only then did I fully understand that no amount of titles and awards I’d collected over the years could compare to the subtle yet meaningful moments of my life that I failed to appreciate sooner. 

  Starting fresh in an unfamiliar environment allowed me to ease up and notice the small details I once overlooked. Picking up a new sport, kendo, strengthened my physical and emotional well-being. I learned to balance between personal goals and social life effectively without losing focus on either. And by reducing my time online, I began embracing every bit of life, no longer tied down to social media’s shallow definition of happiness.

Now, I see the world blooming with colours again—sunsets gleam brighter, coffee scents linger stronger, and lively conversations at the dinner table warm my heart softer in ways that no words can describe. I have finally realised that life’s greatest delights lie in the quiet and fleeting moments we often take for granted.

Akirea