There are times in life when a strange feeling settles in — the feeling that I’m missing out. Not FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) from an event or a party, but from life itself.
Sometimes, things go wrong: there’s the fear of losing my job, I hate my work environment, I haven’t found a partner yet, and I wonder, when will I make my own family? That’s when I step into a dark room, lock myself inside, and lose the key. The fear of wasting my life or being completely lost takes over every corner of this room. There’s a voice in there that questions every single decision I’ve made, with only one answer: You did it all wrong.
When I’m in this room, I cease to be myself. I become the voice of doubt, stress, and fear. A fog spreads through my mind; I can’t recall any achievements, joy, or light-heartedness. I forget how to live.
More and more, I realize that this dark room, plausible as it feels, has become my comfort zone. I go there because it used to be one of my main bedrooms. I like it because I know every inch of it; even in the dark, I can find my way around. Nothing can surprise me. It has become my go-to excuse.
I empathize with the part of me that feels safe in this dark room. It isn’t easy to stop seeking refuge in the familiar, even if that familiarity isn’t nurturing — in fact, it’s the opposite. It’s abusive.
A calm, gentle voice, a truly nurturing one, coming from another room, a new room in my mind, could change the scenery.
If you, somehow, find yourself retreating into familiar darkness, you’re not alone. What does your own voice of light say?
Alexandra Konstanti 
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