For the longest time in my life I lived for other people. I lived to see others happy to the expense of my own happiness. I lived to make others proud of me and wallow in their validation. I did things for others. There wasn’t a journey I started for me. It was always for someone, family or friends. Maybe it’s because I grew up in a culture where everyone points out the responsibility you have over the others, and you are rarely told to do one or two things for you. Yourself. Society hands you the cross and you drag it along for so long you keep tripping and…