The day’s end, another moment to reflect.

Dearest Diary,

A blank slate…

Sometimes, I feel like a piece of blank white paper, waiting for others to fill me in with their colors.

In some ways, I can’t help but view myself this way. Maybe it’s because I feel like I don’t truly know myself yet. With every person I meet, I absorb their colors—adopting their energy, ideas, and interests in stride.

To the world, this might make me seem likable. But deep down, I wonder if that’s only because I blend in so easily. Am I genuinely interesting, or am I just reflecting what others believe to be fun and engaging?

So, I asked myself: why?

Is it a fear of ruffling feathers? A tendency to go with the flow? Or maybe, it’s a lack of care?

Perhaps it’s all of the above. I’m not entirely sure, but that’s why we’re here—to explore these thoughts. For now, I’m content to start slow, giving myself space to reflect and understand.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to find your own “color.” According to Deci and Ryan’s self-determination theory (2000), authenticity is closely tied to intrinsic motivation—those actions we take because they align with our values and passions, not external pressures. This made me realize that blending in might feel easier, but it doesn’t necessarily bring me closer to understanding who I am.

So, how do I move forward?

One idea is to explore what truly excites and fulfills me, even if it feels small or insignificant. This could mean trying out hobbies I’ve been curious about or returning to activities I once loved. I’m learning that the process of discovery itself can be as meaningful as the answers it reveals.

I’ve also been reflecting on New Year’s Resolutions and why they so often fail. A recent study in The European Journal of Social Psychology (2016) found that forming new habits takes, on average, 66 days. This shows that small, consistent actions are far more effective than drastic changes. Maybe this year isn’t about sudden reinvention but about gentle, sustainable growth.

For instance, instead of saying, “figure out who I am,” I could start with smaller, manageable goals:

Make a list of activities I enjoy doing alone.

Spend 10 minutes each week reflecting on what felt authentic.

Try one new thing a month that excites me.


Another thought: journaling itself is a powerful tool for growth. Studies in The Qualitative Report (2021) show that reflective writing helps clarify values, process emotions, and strengthen identity. By taking the time to write these entries, I’m already taking a step toward understanding myself.

And yet, it’s not always easy. In general there are days when I feel stuck—unsure of where to start or afraid of where the journey might lead. But that’s where self-compassion comes in. I’m reminding myself that it’s okay to take this one step at a time.

This reflection also reminds me of the importance of balance. While I want to find my own “color,” I don’t want to shut out the people around me. Relationships, after all, are an important part of life. The key is ensuring they add to my sense of self, rather than overshadowing it.

So, dear diary, I’m taking this year as an experiment. Step by step, day by day, I’ll explore what makes me feel vibrant, what feels true. And maybe, just maybe, this blank slate will start to fill with colors that are unmistakably my own.

Yours in letters, always,
Pandora

P.S. If you’re reading this now, welcome to my late-night musings. If you’re catching up later, I’d love to hear your thoughts—leave a comment or connect with me on social!

The day’s end, another moment to reflect.

Dearest Diary,

I found myself reflecting on what it means to better myself while navigating life as an INFJ—a personality often tied to people-pleasing tendencies.

The thing about being a people pleaser is how it complicates relationships, especially when you’re friends with two people who dislike each other.

Both are kind, caring, and supportive toward me, but their history is riddled with hostility and passive-aggressive moments. Despite once being friends, their bad blood now seems irreparable. While they manage civility in forced interactions, the bitterness spills over when they vent about each other to me.

I value my friendship with them both, but during times of strife, the stress of their negativity weighs on me. I’ve tried playing devil’s advocate, helping them rationalize their thoughts, even defending the other. But instead of easing the tension, it often feels like I’m betraying their trust.

So, what am I to do?

Recently, I came across a study in Frontiers in Psychology (2021) highlighting how third-party mediators in conflicts often face emotional burnout. It made me realize that constantly trying to diffuse tension between these two friends might be taking a greater toll on me than I’d admitted.

Another concept I’ve been exploring is emotional resilience. Research by Tugade and Fredrickson (2004) emphasizes that cultivating positive emotions can act as a buffer against stress. It’s a reminder that I need to prioritize my emotional well-being and seek out moments of joy and balance, even amidst conflict.

I’ve also been reflecting on boundaries. According to The Journal of Counseling Psychology (2010), setting and maintaining boundaries can lead to healthier relationships and improved self-esteem. Perhaps it’s time to kindly but firmly let both friends know that I can’t engage in conversations about the other. A simple statement like:

“I really value my friendship with both of you, but I’ve realized that conversations about the other are emotionally draining for me. I hope you can understand if I avoid those topics moving forward.”


Would they understand? I don’t know, but maybe it’s worth trying.

I also find myself returning to mindfulness practices. Studies have shown that mindfulness-based stress reduction (MBSR) programs can reduce emotional distress and improve interpersonal interactions (Journal of Behavioral Medicine, 2003). Perhaps by incorporating mindfulness into my routine, I can better manage the stress of being caught in the middle.

This situation has also reminded me of a memory I hold dear—a therapist couple I once met. They spoke of balancing their relationship through shared silence and individual hobbies. Their approach to self-care wasn’t selfish; it was the foundation for a stronger bond. Their wisdom inspires me to intertwine self-care with my relationships, knowing it’s an act of love, not betrayal.

And so, dear diary, I’m taking small steps forward. I’m trying to listen to my own needs and protect my peace. Maybe that’s what bettering myself looks like right now.

Yours in letters, always,
Pandora

P.S. If you’re reading this now, welcome to my late-night musings. If you’re catching up later, I’d love to hear your thoughts—leave a comment or connect with me on social!

The day’s end, a moment to reflect.

Dearest Diary,

Happy New Year—a time for fresh starts and new adventures. Today, as I reflect on the year ahead, I find myself turning to you, my safe space for sharing the little moments and big dreams.

Every year, the phrase “New Year, new me” comes up, though others might say, “New Year, same me.”

In the days leading up to this moment, I found myself surrounded by conversations about New Year’s resolutions. Strangely, when asked about mine, I came up empty. It wasn’t because I lacked things to work on, but rather, I was unsure of how to articulate them.

Throughout the year, I strive to better myself—not always successfully. Like anyone, I’ve succumbed to emotions stirred by life’s ups and downs or fallen into lazy habits. Still, I keep trying.

With experience, you realize that rigid, sweeping resolutions often falter. Research by Norcross et al. (2002) found that flexible and realistic goals are far more likely to succeed than rigid, all-or-nothing resolutions. This made me think: what if my goal wasn’t about perfection but about progress?

Interestingly, studies show that journaling can be a powerful tool for self-care. Research published in JMIR Mental Health (2018) found that expressive writing can reduce anxiety, stress, and depression. Perhaps this is why I’ve turned to you, dear diary. Writing feels like a safe space to process emotions, reflect, and grow.

This brings me to an important realization about venting. Sharing our burdens is crucial for mental well-being, but doing so without ensuring someone is ready to listen can be unintentionally selfish. Journaling offers an alternative—a space to express freely without placing the emotional weight on someone else. It helps me sort through my thoughts, preparing me to share them more mindfully with others.

I’ve also been inspired by Dr. Kristin Neff’s work on self-compassion. She emphasizes that being kind to ourselves when we stumble fosters resilience and motivation. Instead of criticizing ourselves for missteps, we can treat those moments as opportunities to learn and move forward. This aligns perfectly with my abstract goal—focusing on self-care, not perfection.

Finally, there’s the idea of embracing a growth mindset, as described by Dr. Carol Dweck. Seeing challenges as chances for growth, rather than obstacles, can transform how we approach setbacks. This perspective reminds me that every small effort counts, even if the results aren’t immediate.

And so, dear diary, I turn to you. I hope you’ll become a safe space—a keeper of thoughts, experiences, and reflections. Perhaps even a community for those who find themselves here. Together, we can process the past and move forward in healthier, more constructive ways.

Thank you, dear diary, for holding these thoughts and stories.

Yours in letters, always,
Pandora

P.S. If you’re reading this now, welcome to my late-night musings. If you’re catching up later, I’d love to hear your thoughts—leave a comment or connect with me on social!