How do I live?
How can someone live and be happy without their achievements? For the longest time, I didn’t know the answer. I grew up believing that I was no one without the medals, the certificates, the leadership titles—the recognition. From the very beginning, I lived my life trying to achieve everyone’s expectations, not because I truly wanted to, but because I felt I had to. And for a while, that made sense. I was seen because of my grades, because of my awards, because of my so-called success.
But what no one saw was the weight I carried. I regret being an academic achiever. I regret climbing that ladder of expectations my family and teachers had for me. Because every step higher only meant the fall would be harder. Every achievement felt less like joy, and more like pressure. I regret that I grew up like this—having to excel, having to perform, having to pretend. And the truth is, I have not lived my life fully ever since I became that achiever, that leader, that person everyone thought I was supposed to be.
From elementary to high school, people recognized me for my intelligence, but not for my heart. And it sucked. Because deep down, I craved something real. Something I didn’t have to fake. Something that wasn’t tied to grades, medals, or the expectations of others. I craved love. Genuine love. And because I never had it, I pretended not to care. I acted like I could live just fine carrying this image, this burden.
Until I met Louie.
She came into my life when I was at my lowest—when I was falling apart inside. And for the first time, I felt like someone cared about me, not for what I could achieve, not for the image I carried, but for who I truly am. She made me appreciate life again. She brought happiness in me that I thought I would never feel. And she stayed, even when I had nothing to offer.
Louie is everything that is good in my life. She reminded me that life is not measured by achievements, but by the moments we live, the people we love, and the happiness we allow ourselves to feel. Because of her, I discovered something I had long forgotten—that I am worthy, even without medals or titles.
But still, my past haunts me. The expectations, the pressure, the eyes that watch my every move. To them, Louie is the reason I might fail. They blame her when things don’t go their way. They think she is the distraction, the root of my downfall. But what they don’t see is that for once, I am living, not just existing.
And so, I proved them wrong. I showed them that even with love, even with happiness, I can still excel. But honestly, I don’t care if they still doubt me. Because I have already found what I was searching for all my life. Even if I fail, even if I fall short, I know I am loved—not because I am an achiever, but because I am a person worthy of love.
Louie gave me that. And that is why I will never stop loving her. She is my reason to live. She is proof that happiness is not in achievements, but in being seen, being understood, and being loved for who you truly are.
And now, I stand here knowing that my worth is not in medals, not in recognition, not in leadership titles, but in the simple truth that I am human. I deserve love. I deserve happiness. And so do you.