It has been over ten months since the day I whispered, "I will change."
Back then, I was someone who struggled with a single push-up. Someone whose skin itched, whose body sweated from just trying, whose mind was in ruins and whose nights bled into mornings. Now? That person is gone.
My exams have ended. But I didn't return to games or meaningless scrolling. No more wasting hours on my phone chasing dopamine. Instead, I listen to audiobooks — The 48 Laws of Power, The 33 Strategies of War, Atomic Habits, How to Win Friends and Influence People — voices of wisdom echo in my ears during quiet afternoons and sleepless nights.
Sometimes, I pause those audiobooks and write. My own story. My own world. Words poured from my fingers like a flood that had been held back for too long.
I pray now — daily. Not just in the ritual sense, but from deep within my soul. With presence. With meaning. And each prayer feels like an anchor in a world that constantly shifts.
My skincare is no longer a rushed splash of water and a borrowed cream. I've found what suits me. My skin glows now. No more dandruff. No more rough patches. My lips are no longer dry and dark — they're pink, alive. My face has taken a glow I never thought possible.
Physically? My reflection now nods back with pride. A bigger chest. Wider lats. A slim waist. Strong legs. My shoulders are rounded with power and my arms have definition that didn't exist before. I've stopped fearing summer and winter — heat and cold no longer hold me hostage. I take cold showers now, something the old me would shiver at. I laugh at how fragile I once was.
I walk for hours without tiring. I fall asleep fast. I wake up earlier than ever. I eat at fixed times. I help my parents without them even asking. I help others too, and not just to be seen — I do it because it feels… right.
But I never forget who's watching.
Somewhere, in that formless void beyond understanding, the white silhouette remains — the observer, the quiet witness to my transformation. He does not speak this time. He simply watches.
But I feel it — approval.
I'm not done. This is just the foundation. I've g
one beyond the mirror.