I had an Epiphany while Watching Netflix, about How Some People Change the Way We See Ourselves.

Dear friend,

How was your week? Let me guess, busy, right? Mine too.

There's this panel presentation for Stanford I've been buried in, on top of everything else on my plate. And you know, by the end of most days, my brain needed a break. So in the evenings, I did what I always do to calm my nerves: I watched something mindless.

Except it wasn't mindless.

Tell me, has it ever happened to you — an epiphany, mid-episode, when you least expect one? It happened to me last night, and I knew I had to write to you about it.

I was watching this series, and one character, who was kind of half alien, half man, still learning what it means to be human, turns to the person he loves and says, "Please don't leave me. I want you in my life because I don't like myself when I'm not with you."

And I just stopped.

Because it's true. It's true for so many of us.

It made me sit there thinking: why does someone else get to hold that kind of power? Why can another person become the defining factor in whether we like ourselves, whether we feel like ourselves at all?

Why does anyone get to have that much power over you?

What is it inside us that we're so desperate to run from?

Where does that darkness that we can't like or live with in ourselves even come from?

Is it the pain, the mistakes, unfulfilled needs, the guilt, or just the words we heard growing up telling us we weren't quite good enough?

Maybe it's all of it. Maybe it's different for each of us.

But the unhappiness, the darkness we're unconsciously running from, is looking for light. And most of us believe that light belongs to someone else. That they're the one who can show us the path, guide us, tell us what to do, or simply be there. Just make us feel better. Make us feel that we are valued, happy, or at peace.

It could be their words, their faith in our capabilities, or even their presence alone that calms the storm.

And maybe just knowing that the person exists in your life gives you the strength to keep going. To fight. To believe. To dream. To finally feel at peace. To be the best version of yourself. That peace, that surge of strength, that warm, uplifting feeling, that's what we start craving.

Because we believe if that anchor is ever pulled away, we lose our safe harbor. So we run after the people who make us feel that way. Happy. Trusting. Strong. We start believing they hold something magical, as if they are the light clearing our darkness.

But here's what we don't realize: they were never the light.

The light was already in you. They're just the ones who found the switch.

It could be their words, their presence, their timing, whatever it was, they simply switched on something that was already inside you, waiting.

And yes, that matters. Their place in your life is meaningful, because they reminded you of a power, a worth, a value that was always yours to begin with. They're special. Special for you, in every possible way.

But they're also, simply, human, human with limitations, flaws, or their own needs, which might take them away from you.

Maybe what you two had felt like magic. Maybe it just clicked. Either way, having them in your life, in any capacity, romantic partner, family, friend, mentor, whoever it is — was never really about them.

It was always about you. You're the one who holds the light.

You just haven't learned to trust it yet.

There's a term for this in psychology: self-efficacy. Your belief in your own ability to handle what life hands you, including your own darkness. When that belief runs thin, we go looking for someone else to hold it for us.

But when you know how to build that self-efficacy, brick by brick, then one day you rely less on someone else's hand on the switch to brighten up your life.

So here's what I want you to take from this letter, more than anything else:

Stop waiting for someone to walk into the room and turn the lights on for you. You are not a lamp waiting for a hand. You are the electricity itself.

The people who've loved you well, who've made you feel like yourself again, do keep them close, thank them, let them matter. But don't confuse what they gave you for something they own. They didn't create your light. They just proved to you it was already burning.

And one more important thing: how about being that switch who lights up someone else's dark room, when they are struggling in the dark?

How about being that switch to someone else who is struggling in the dark? Reminding them who they can be, the best version of them.

Because you now know how to light up.

With love,

Muzna

Before I end this letter, let me ask you for a favor. How about you pass this letter along to help someone who needs to hear it.

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P.P.P.P.S. — And if you want to go even deeper into becoming the person you actually want to be, I wrote a book called Be You Be Okay. It's for the person who is done pretending they're fine. Done shrinking. Done waiting for permission to show up as their full self.

If that sounds like you or someone you love, you can grab a copy right here:

👉 https://a.co/d/0f6zOuMB

Read it. Give it to someone who needs it. Show some love to the person you care about.