Lately, a quiet thought has been echoing in my mind:

Many of the things we treat as “the right answer”
are often just the way someone else did it before us.

Of course, those ways are usually refined through trial and error—
efficient, proven, and widely adopted.
But I’ve always struggled to follow them blindly.
I needed to know why.
I needed to see if it truly made sense for me.

It’s a bit like preferring to understand how a math formula is derived,
rather than just memorizing it.
It may take longer, but understanding sticks with me longer than shortcuts ever could.

This trait didn’t just appear in adulthood.
According to my father, I barely tried to walk as a baby.
I was so content crawling that I resisted standing up.
He had to hold my hand and practice with me many times
before I finally took those first unsteady steps.

Even when I started elementary school,
I hadn’t fully learned to read or write yet.
My parents were worried.
But looking back, I think I’ve always been the kind of person
who couldn’t accept things I didn’t fully understand—no matter how late it made me.

So yes, I’m often slow.
While others seem to arrive quickly, I’m still on the road.
And sometimes, that makes me anxious.

“Would it have been easier if I just did what others told me to do?”
“Would I have accomplished more by now if I stayed within the lines?”

But here’s what I know for sure today:
After all the overthinking and hesitation,
I took a step. A small one.

Not for anyone else to see.
But just enough to bring my writing closer to where I am.
Like adding a small link to my blog on my profile—something only I’d notice.

I don’t know what it will lead to.
But I believe these small, intentional choices
are quietly paving a path that’s truly mine.

Because writing always grows silently.
Today was another one of those quiet days.

Enjoyed the post?
☕ Support me here → Buy Me a Coffee

Posted in

댓글 남기기