How I Learned to Accept Myself and Became My Own Best Friend

The Quiet Power of Being Happy Alone

Sep 13, 2025

The Noise Within Silence I Wanted to Avoid at All Costs

The chaos inside you is the doorway to clarity.

I used to start my day with the radio on, earphones in to listen to a podcast, or a familiar TV show playing in the background.

Anything to distract myself. Because if I faced silence, an oppressive feeling would settle in my mind. Waiting somewhere, sitting alone, restlessness would creep in almost instantly.

Back then, I couldn’t put it into words. I didn’t have the framework to understand what I was feeling.

Today, I realize that all that noise was me.

My past, my imagined future, worries, insecurities, secrets, and wishes, all collected and carried for over thirty years, unheard.

It felt like a colorful set of clothes tumbling in a washing machine. I couldn’t tell which pieces I was seeing from one moment to the next.

And just like with those clothes, if you want to know what’s inside, you have to stop the machine and start separating them carefully.

The same is true for our inner world. If we pause, listen, and pay attention, over time the noise turns into clarity.

Of course, most of us try to avoid this at all costs.

We shy away from our true selves, afraid of what we might discover.

What if I’m not the person I always thought I was?

What if I don’t love my partner anymore?

What if I’m in the wrong career and what I really want is to travel the world?

It is difficult to figure out who we really are and what we truly want. Facing that truth can go against everything we or others expect. People already know some version of you, but the real you, the unfiltered you, might surprise them.

Your partner might not like it if you suddenly change from a homebody to a party animal.

Your parents might feel ashamed if you throw away a law degree to go gardening.

The sooner you understand who you are, the better for you and for everyone around you.

It can be risky, but it is worth it.

Being fully aligned with yourself brings calm freedom, as loyalty and self-acceptance ease the struggle within.

When I Stopped Fighting My Heartbreak

Resistance only prolongs the pain and letting it flow opens the door to healing.

When the love of my life left me and I couldn’t handle the loss, I wanted to cry all day long.

At first, I kept it together because I needed to function, move into a new apartment, and stabilize my life after the breakup. I tried to come back to life, but the feeling of loneliness only worsened.

At some point, I let it out. I couldn’t fight it anymore. I lay on the couch every single day and cried. On the bathroom floor, or even while cooking, letting the knife and potato drop.

Every time I gave my emotions space, I felt relief.

This was my first experience in adult life where I truly let out my inner world. I felt lighter, but not fully okay yet. The lovesickness remained, and I wanted to scream because I wanted to feel good again.

It didn’t work.

My resistance to miserable days was still too strong, even though I cried a lot.

Then I read an article about dealing with heartbreak that said: If you are heartbroken, don’t expect to feel better soon. It will take a long time, period.

I loved it because it was raw, direct, and real. I realized then that I didn’t need to comply with my own or society’s expectations.

No fights anymore, because it wouldn’t help.

I cooked a good dinner for myself and watched the World Cup on television, accepting my situation as it was.

That was the turning point. My serenity returned, and the noise inside me softened.

At that time, I was already exploring awareness, yoga, and meditation, but I had never gone deeper into practice. After discovering more about my inner world, I wanted to know how to manage the noise inside me, so I started digging deeper.

Awareness in the Everyday

Small moments of attention reveal the feelings we’ve carried for years and guide us toward what truly matters.

I ordered books about awareness and some yoga equipment, and in the mornings I still turned on the radio, but it already felt distracting. I slowly shifted my focus from external to internal. Over time, I stopped using the radio in the morning. I sat at the table and ate breakfast, then meditated for ten minutes. At first, I expected meditation to feel spiritual. But the more I forced it, the less it worked. So I removed those expectations and simply sat, breathing, observing my thoughts as they came and went. I also went for walks in the nearby park, truly listening to myself. What do I feel? What is this tiny, warm thing in me? During my walks, childhood feelings resurfaced. I began connecting present moments with memories long forgotten.

For example, in the park, a dirt road in summer would kick up a little dust. Its yellowish color and smell reminded me of a short dirt street near my elementary school. It felt exactly the same as when I was a child, and I savored it. I wanted more moments like this, and in them I sensed the possibility of discovering what I truly love.

When My Inner World Became Enough

Embracing your inner world makes your own company more fulfilling than the outside world.

These discoveries made my inner world rich and enjoyable. I got rid of the radio in my kitchen and started running for hours without earphones.

When I run marathons without music, people wonder why I smile, but I simply enjoy every step, every sound, and my own company.

For the first time, my inner world felt more engaging than the outside world. I also realized I’m an introvert, a side of me I had never fully known. People often find my quietness around strangers odd. But I integrated it into my life. When someone asks, I tell them I’m introverted and that I observe and think more than I speak. Interestingly, they respect my honesty and authenticity.

I built my life around these insights, and everything began to feel different.

I sleep deeply, breathe easier, and when I look at my life, I feel at peace.

When the sun shines and everyone is outside, I don’t force myself to join. I close the curtains and play video games when I feel like it.

The weather and others no longer dictate my actions, my inner world does.

Accepting my flaws is freeing, and at the same time it keeps me moving toward growth and my potential. I’m still learning, reading, exercising, and striving to be the best version of myself, yet I can also admit my weaknesses. I’m bad at small talk, unskilled in craftsmanship, and without GPS, I’d be lost.

These flaws don’t bother me. I own them and ask for help when needed.

My inner critic became a familiar, disliked friend. He’s always there, talking, but I choose which of his words I let influence me.

He is part of me, but his voice is shaped by my parents, former teachers, and society.

I’m not perfect, but I have many strengths too.

These two sides create a balance that keeps me working toward my goals and living up to my potential.

I’m aligned with myself.

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