From the Break

Hey. So... it's been a while.

If you've been wondering why I haven't posted anything—no blogs, no updates—it's not that I disappeared. Life just happened. Some of you even emailed asking what's next? or why the silence? This post is for you.

The truth? I burned out. Got sick. Hit a wall, then hit a few more. I wish I could say I was off working on some secret masterpiece or backpacking through Europe, but no. I've just been in recovery mode—from stress, from exhaustion, from expectations both mine and others'.

This isn't a comeback post. I'm still in the middle of the break. But I wanted to write something from the break. Something real.

The Moment Everything Shifted

During this time off, I had a moment. A real one. The kind that makes you stop and rethink everything.

When I first started programming, I had that beginner fire—I'll build that, I'll launch this, I'll make it happen. And I did. I really did. But somewhere along the way, my standards quietly skyrocketed. Not because I was chasing some abstract dream, but because of the people around me.

Here's the thing: I don't have close friends in real life. But I do have amazing online friends—and they're on another level. If life were a video game, they'd be in the top tier, and I'd be respawning in the tutorial zone. That's what it felt like. Without even realizing it, I started holding myself to their standard instead of acknowledging my own growth.

But during this break, when I was outside talking to old peers from my actual age group, it hit me: most people my age aren't even thinking about the things I've already done. I'm not at the top—yet—but I'm not behind either. I'm successful for my age. Just not for my standards.

That's a subtle but game-changing distinction.

The Two-Year Sprint

Looking back, these past two years feel like vapor. Coding, internships, startups, job offers. Three internships. Five offers. Four startups—three failed, one sold. That's impressive on paper, but internally? I'm not sure.

Am I on the right path, or just sprinting down a tunnel without windows?

My brain glitched on a loop: What did I do to myself? What if I'd made different choices?

I'm 17, and yeah, I've achieved a lot. But did I live any of it? That thought hit hard. Like I traded time for achievements that don't feel like living.

The technical win of selling a startup felt like a shrug—not a loss, not a victory. Just... movement.

The Cost of Climbing Alone

Here's what I didn't mention in my previous posts: I've been fighting harder than most. Dyslexia slowed me down, made everything heavier. I only found out recently, but it explained why learning took longer, why frustration hit deeper.

While my peers snapped up concepts like candy, I was grinding silently. On top of that, I didn't grow up with privilege—low income, limited resources, almost no support. This was a solo climb.

But I climbed. I stayed in the game. I kept building.

Still, it came with a cost: isolation. Two years in near-solitude. No parties, no meetups, no random coffee dates. Just me and code. That's not drama—that's just truth.

Most of my days are solo. No close IRL friends. Just me and my standards, which keep climbing while my ability to reach them feels stuck in place.

The Envy I Carry

I've got mentors. I've got momentum. But I also carry this sharp envy. One of my friends pulls $200k a month from their app. I'm genuinely proud of them—but it stings. Not because I'm bitter, but because it reminds me how far I still have to go.

And for a second, I considered quitting. Just... walking away. But then what would I have? Fun? Freedom? Maybe. But would it mean anything?

That gap between who I am and who I think I should be—it haunts me. Makes me feel constantly behind, even when I'm not.

What I'm Learning

I don't regret being an introvert. But I wonder if I stunted part of myself by not going out there, not building more than software—maybe building life too.

I want to grow. I want to be on the level of the people I admire. But I also don't want to kill my momentum by ignoring how far I've already come.

A friend recently told me, "Keep going. Trust the path." And I do. I really do.

But some days it feels right. Some days it feels like I'm missing something essential.

I'm not the smartest in the room, but I've been the most consistent. That's what carried me through. And maybe that's enough for now.

I want my late teens and twenties to be more than a productivity sprint. I want presence. I want peace. I want to build things that matter, but also live while I'm building them.

This isn't a conclusion because I'm not there yet. I'm still figuring it out. Still in the break, still processing, still growing.

But I'm not quitting. I'm just... recalibrating.

_Thanks for reading this far. _