The Secret Battle Nobody Saw

If there were an Olympic sport for pretending everything’s fine, I’d have been a gold medalist. Need someone to flash a breezy smile and respond to “How’s life?” with an enthusiastic “Great, thanks!” while actively spiraling internally? Call me. For years, I waged a quiet war, armed with good vibes, carefully curated excuses, and an impressive gift for deflection. My enemy? An overwhelming feeling of “not enough.”

You know the one. It’s that sneaky, gnawing voice whispering things like, “You’re behind.” Behind where? Who knows! But it made me feel like I needed to be everywhere, doing everything, perfectly, and all at once. From Vancouver’s natural beauty to Melbourne’s sunsets over the Yarra River, this feeling followed me, rolling its eyes at my successes and telling me to “try harder” at even the smallest missteps. For me—someone who prided themselves on independence and creativity—admitting to this struggle felt like a betrayal of everything I stood for. So I didn’t admit it. Not to my closest friends, not even to myself.

But stuffing doubt into a metaphorical closet only works until the closet door flies open (and trust me, mine exploded with the force of a rom-com montage). How did I reach the other side of my secret battle? With uncomfortable honesty, intentional baby steps, and, yes, a healthy dose of wit.

The Tiny Triggers That Spiraled Big-Time

It started small. Maybe it was a glance at Instagram. A classmate from UBC was publishing a book, seemingly in their sleep, while drinking macchiatos in some European café I couldn’t pronounce. Cool, cool. Flipping to Facebook (yes, I still had it; stop judging!) didn’t help: Engagement announcements and friends climbing career ladders faster than I could say, “corporate retreat.”

Meanwhile, I was navigating Vancouver’s patchy gig economy and drafting short stories between social media strategies for a nonprofit that paid in karma points. Don’t get me wrong: I loved the work itself—the environmental impact, the creative freedom—but the “What Are You Doing With Your Life”™ panic arrived anyway. It festered quietly at first, then screamed louder during my Melbourne exchange. I mean, who couldn’t feel insecure when surrounded by effortlessly chic Australians and a city where even the alley graffiti seemed more accomplished?

The Danger of Pretending You’re Fine

Here’s the thing about bottling up self-doubt: it’s exhausting. I poured all my energy into pretending I was thriving on every front, both socially and professionally. “Fake it till you make it!” was basically my personality. A bad date or tough week at work? No sweat, I’d post a photo of an oat milk latte captioned, “Thriving on coastlines and caffeine.” My friends ate it up—because, of course, they only saw the surface.

Even my parents thought I had it together, despite the occasional suspicious glance across the family café as I furiously typed away like I had a handle on everything. Beneath the façade, I was stretched thin, like my brain was a Jenga tower with one too many wobbly blocks. It all came crashing down when the most embarrassing (but predictable) thing happened: I opened my laptop one morning, stared at a blinking cursor, and realized I had absolutely zero creative juice left.

Crafting My “Enough” Framework

After years of powering through my secret battle solo, I finally told a friend—a no-nonsense, surf-loving comrade I met during a summer in Tofino. Over beers on the beach, I expected them to laugh or throw me a “chin up” lecture. Instead, they looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Okay, but what if you’re already enough?”

This simple question unraveled me. Enough? As I was, flaws, doubts, and all? What kind of horror movie was self-acceptance anyway? But that question planted the tiniest seed. Turns out, little tweaks to how I approached my days could gradually turn down the volume on that nagging inner critic.

Through trial and (lots of) error, here’s what worked for me:

1. The Comparison Detox

Comparison is the fast food of insecurity: tempting, addictive, and guaranteed to leave you feeling regretful. My first step? I unfollowed anyone on social media whose content triggered feelings of inadequacy. Goodbye, influencer with 87 side hustles and glowing filters from Santorini beaches. Hello, accounts that made me laugh, relax, or remind me that nobody’s life is perfect.

Actionable tip: Next time you scroll Instagram, ask yourself: “Does this post add something positive or helpful to my day?” If not, hit unfollow.

2. Celebrating Micro-Wins

In my Q&A session with myself, I realized that “enough” didn’t have to mean grand gestures like completing a novel or landing a TED Talk. Breaking it down into small, tangible wins—a good morning run, a poem draft, sending that email you’ve been avoiding—shifted my focus from “too far to go” to “look how far I’ve come.” Bonus: They added up over time.

Quick hack: Designate a jar (or, in true Vancouver fashion, a repurposed jam jar) for micro-achievements. Write each one on a sticky note, fold it up, and watch that jar fill with quiet proof of your progress.

3. Embracing Honest Conversations

After my Tofino friend obliterated my secret battle in one sentence, I started opening up more with people I trusted. Over time, I realized we were all experts at keeping things together on the outside while battling our personal chaos internally. Talking about it didn’t magically fix everything, but it tore down the isolation wall I’d built for myself.

Pro tip: Practice honesty with one open-minded friend. Even saying something like, “Hey, I don’t feel like I’m thriving despite what you see on the surface,” can seriously lighten the emotional load.

4. Recognizing the “Highlight Reel” Myth

Anyone who’s ever spent time behind the family café counter knows this: Regulars often “spill the tea” (pun intended)—docile couples revealing turbulent anniversaries, happy moms admitting to burnout. No one has a perfect trajectory, and remembering this during my bouts of insecurity became transformative. Brides posting engagement rings or ex-classmates winning literary prizes are simply presenting their shiny “best-of” moments, not the hiccups behind the scenes. Life’s messy, and TBH, the mess makes it worthwhile.

Finding Peace in Progress

Nowadays, I’m kinder to myself. I’m settling into a rhythm that celebrates creativity without constant pressure to excel. Some days, I dip into Kitsilano Beach for a walk or eavesdrop at a Granville Island café (nerding out over overheard dialogue for writing inspiration). Other days, I feel like world domination is just one to-do list away. But the biggest win? I’ve learned that my life, as it currently stands—not next year, not after some arbitrary milestone—is already enough.

Consider this your sign: Whatever secret battle you’re carrying, it’s okay to let someone in. To shift gears. To sift through small wins. Your journey is yours, and it’s already meaningful—even with the messy parts you think you have to hide.

Your battle may feel too big to share, but the moment you do, you take the first step toward making peace with yourself. And trust me, there’s power in owning it before the closet door explodes. Take it from someone who’s been there.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a jam jar on my windowsill with space for today’s micro-win: writing this.