Breaking the Pattern

I don’t know exactly how I found the courage to break the pattern, but I did. Looking back today, I feel so proud of myself — proud that I was brave enough to step out of everything I knew and build a life overseas, literally by myself.

I grew up in a small town, living a good life, working in a stable, prestigious job at an international bank. It was the kind of job people admired — good salary, good reputation, stability. I could even save enough to book my first holiday, pay for my own ticket, fly to Australia, cover rent, food, transport, and even travel alone as a solo adventurer. That was already bold. That was already me choosing freedom.

But the real turning point came when office politics pushed me out. I was fired over the phone, not even allowed to step back into the office to collect my things. My approved annual leave had been signed off — and then literally erased. I was treated like a corruptor for simply taking a holiday.

The truth is, I was never the corrupt one — it was them. A group driven by greed and politics. At that time, I was too blunt, too honest, and I made it clear I didn’t want to be part of their corruption. I didn’t know how to “play the game,” and because of that, I was the one pushed out.

Luckily, I had brought my mom with me when I went back to seek clarification. My parents raised me with dignity and honesty in my DNA, so I knew the truth — but I also needed her to see it. For me, it was enough that my mom knew I wasn’t doing anything wrong. She even set up a meeting with the managers, just to shake off her doubts. That was all I needed: my mom’s trust, her belief in me. The rest — outsiders, gossip, the world — I didn’t care.

I didn’t want to waste my energy on them. I decided: this is not my problem. My focus had to be on my future. That was enough.

Another reason I chose not to pursue it further was even more painful: I saw with my own eyes that my so-called best friend at the time — who always claimed to be on my side — stayed silent. Silent, while I was treated unfairly. Silent, while I was being pushed out. That silence cut me deeper than the company’s betrayal. And this is the first time I’ve ever spoken about it out loud.

I tried to comfort myself: maybe they needed the job, maybe they couldn’t take a risk for me, maybe they had families to feed. Or maybe… it simply wasn’t their problem. But after I left, no one reached out, no one asked how I was doing. That silence taught me a lot.

It taught me to shift my focus. Even when depression hit me for almost a year, I held onto the trust and love of my family. They supported me at my lowest, and slowly, I found my way back. I became more optimistic, more resilient, wiser — and yes, proud of myself for not letting bitterness win.

A year or two later, I returned to my hometown from Australia. I saw my so-called best friend again, and I let my presence speak for itself: I was living a better life. I silently thanked them for the strange kind of courage their silence gave me. After that, I never contacted them again.

Almost ten years later, here I am. I’ve built a life in Australia. I found my partner, and we are starting our own family. I’m 35 now. My dream of financial freedom at this age hasn’t fully arrived yet, but I’m on my way. And more importantly, I’m living a good life, I have a loving partner by my side, my family is healthy, and I feel supported and loved.

That little girl from a small town who once played it safe — she grew into a woman who dared to live differently. I am so, so proud of her. And today, I just want to pause, breathe, and be grateful.

✨ Here’s to breaking patterns, choosing freedom, and trusting the bigger plan.

TheSoftWarriorsDiaries