Living life on my own terms - The Selfish Trend

 

Behind every "Living life on my own Terms" person - there is someone who didn't live his life on his own terms.

Burning in silence. Dream sacrificed. Freedom worn like a crown built on negligence.

Behind every person who proudly claims to live life on their own terms, there is an invisible cost—a hidden story of sacrifice, pain, and dreams left to burn in the shadows. Living life on your own terms is often painted as the ultimate freedom, the heroic choice to break free from chains and live authentically. But underneath that glowing light is someone whose dreams were dimmed or sacrificed so another could shine.

It’s a selfish act wrapped in courage. Someone had to wilt so someone else could bloom. Someone had to bear the darkness, so the other could walk in the light. The freedom to say "I choose" is rarely born from thin air; it is shaped in the furnace of sacrifices—silent sacrifices that often go unseen and unacknowledged.

For every heart that roams free, there is another that stayed behind, tethered by duty, expectation, or pain. It could be a parent who gave up their passions to provide safety. A friend who swallowed their ambitions to support another’s dream. A soul who accepted confinement, so another might breathe air unbound.

This is the bitter truth hidden behind the triumphant cry of independence. Living on one's own terms is not just freedom; it is the privilege granted by someone else’s surrender. And sometimes, the light that guides is burning someone else’s flesh.

So when you proudly live life on your terms, remember the sacrifices that paved your way. Honor the silent fires that smoldered in the dark. Because freedom, at its core, carries a price tag etched with someone else’s withheld dreams.

Because in the end, to live on your terms is never just about you. It is about the lives quietly burned so you might shine.

I Am Not Letting It Go

 

I’ve read countless pieces of advice telling me to master the art of letting go. Whatever is weighing you down—just release it, and peace will follow.  I came across a story that struck a chord deep within me: 

If a snake bites you, don’t go chasing the snake to ask it to say sorry. First, treat the venom spreading inside you. Even if the snake apologizes, the poison has already taken hold.  

Until I turned 40, this was exactly how I lived. Whenever life threw something bad my way, I treated it like a snake bite—I focused on neutralizing the venom. I didn’t chase the snake. “Don’t chase the snake” became my mantra, my way to remind myself to heal without getting sucked into anger or pain. Did it work? I’m not sure. The venom did its damage every time—it burned me alive. But the snake roamed free, untouched.

Now, past 40, I’m trying something different. I’m not letting the snake go. Instead, I want to cage it. Let it bite me again... and again... until I grow immune to its venom. Until I can smile with poison in my veins, I’m not letting it go.

Every night during meditation, I picture that cage. I reach in, open it, and let the snake bite me. I tell myself: there is no forgiveness here. No such thing. I’m no saint. I’m selfish—this is my body, my mind, and I decide how long the snake stays by my side.

This is an experiment. I want to see if my body will stop reacting to the venom or It dies. If I can grab the snake’s jaw and ask it for one more bite. I believe, One day, I’ll hold the snake till its last breath, till it dies. I’ll gather every drop of venom and say, “Thank you for making me someone who no longer feels pain.” I’ll hold on until one of us dies—me or the snake.

What am I hoping to achieve? A mind that never forgets the moments that tested my very existence and efforts. A mind strong enough to face any unwanted situation with a smile. It’s like burning myself to ashes so I never burn again.