When Life Feels Upside Down: Lessons in Real Well-Being

When life is steady, well-being feels like a checklist: sleep enough, move your body, eat well, take your supplements.

But when everything turns upside down—when you’re grieving, overwhelmed, stretched thin—that’s when the real lessons come through.

The last few months have been some of the hardest I’ve had in a long time. I lost my grandmother. Then, a few months later, I lost my father.

I’ve been balancing multiple projects at work, in the middle of a PhD, and somehow trying to show up as a leader, a student, a sister, a daughter, a friend… all while still taking care of myself.

Here’s what I’ve learned (and am still learning) about well-being—not the Instagram version, but the quiet, raw, deeply personal kind:


1. Grief Doesn’t Ask for Permission

Grief doesn’t wait for the weekend. It shows up in between meetings and to-do lists.

In my case, both phone calls came on Mondays—one just as I was starting my workday, the other at night, while I was in the middle of a PhD class.

Even though I knew those calls could arrive at any moment, when they finally came, they still shocked me.

Nothing could have prepared me to receive them.

Grief is deeply personal; each of us experiences it in a different way.

I’ve learned to let it in, even if just for a moment—a deep breath, a memory, a tear.

I don’t push it away. I try not to judge it.


2. Self-Care Becomes Survival

Self-care has become as simple as drinking water and eating.

Sitting in silence for five minutes. Taking a few days off from work and classes. Going out for a walk.

These tiny acts have become my anchors—small reminders that I’m still here.


3. People Are the Pillars

During these months, I’ve leaned on people more than ever. Friends, family, professors, other PhD students, and coworkers have been there in many different ways.

Sometimes a simple “I’m sorry to hear that” went a long way.

Well-being isn’t a solo mission—it’s collective.

We heal in community, even if the gestures are small.


4. Permission to Pause

One powerful thing I gave myself: permission to do less.

To postpone a task. To take longer walks. To cry during a break.

To spend more time with my family and truly be present.

Sometimes I feel like I spend most of my life thinking and doing.

Now, I’m learning to take time to feel and just be.

Productivity can wait. Healing can’t.


5. It’s Okay Not to Feel “Okay”

I’ve stopped pretending everything is fine.

And strangely, that honesty made me feel more grounded.

There’s peace in truth.

And there’s strength in vulnerability.


Closing Thoughts

These months have reminded me that well-being isn’t about perfection—it’s about compassion.

It’s about creating space for all parts of life: the joy, the sorrow, the chaos, the calm.

And learning, little by little, that I can carry both.

The Power of Closing Cycles: Why Endings Deserve Attention

We often celebrate beginnings—a new job, a new year, a new relationship—but we rarely give endings the attention they deserve. And yet, over the past few years, I’ve learned that how we end things can be just as important as how we start them.

I’ve become intentional about closing cycles. Not just the big ones like moving cities or leaving a job, but the small, everyday ones too—like how I end my workday, how I wrap up a conversation, or how I say goodbye after a visit to see family. Each closure is an opportunity to reflect, to honor what was, and to make space for what’s next.

Why Closing Cycles Matters

Leaving things unfinished—or worse, pretending they didn’t happen—creates mental clutter. It lingers. It takes up space in our minds and hearts, making it harder to move forward with clarity and intention. I’ve felt it in my own life: the emotional weight of half-closed chapters, the open tabs in my brain.

But when I consciously bring things to a close, something shifts. There’s peace. There’s resolution. There’s a subtle but powerful sense of integrity in saying, “This mattered. It happened. It’s complete.”

The Practice of Closure

For me, closing cycles isn’t dramatic—it’s mindful.

Sometimes it looks like writing a few lines in my journal at the end of the day, acknowledging the good and the not-so-good. Sometimes it’s sending a thank-you message after finishing a project. Other times, it’s more symbolic: taking a solo walk to process a difficult goodbye.

These simple acts help me integrate the experience, rather than rush past it.

Closing the Big Cycles

While small daily closures have their place, sometimes we need to revisit the big chapters of our lives to fully close them. Over the past year, I did something that felt deeply necessary: I returned to a few cities where I once lived—places that shaped me, challenged me, and held pieces of who I used to be.

When I first left those places, life was a whirlwind. Busy, busy, busy. Packing, deadlines, logistics. I didn’t give myself the space to say goodbye—to really walk those streets one last time, take in the views, or sit with the emotions of leaving.

Going back, this time with no rush, allowed me to close those chapters with presence. I wandered familiar neighborhoods with new eyes. I visited my favorite restaurants, took long walks, and let the memories surface. It was quiet, emotional, and healing. Those visits weren’t about nostalgia—they were about honoring who I was back then and letting go of what no longer belonged to me.

Sometimes closure isn’t just emotional; it’s physical. It’s returning, witnessing, and releasing.

Endings Are Not Failures

One of the biggest mindset shifts I’ve had is understanding that endings aren’t always sad. And they definitely aren’t failures. Letting go of a habit, a routine, or even a dream that no longer fits is an act of courage, not weakness. It’s a way of saying, “I respect myself enough to not stay stuck.”

I’ve also learned that some cycles need to close before we feel ready. And that’s okay. There’s wisdom in moving on even without a perfect sense of closure. Sometimes we find the meaning later.

What I’ve Gained

By honoring closures, I’ve gained clarity. Emotional space. Confidence. And more than anything, a sense of flow—of being able to transition from one season to the next without dragging old stories behind me.

It’s still a work in progress. But now, I no longer rush to the next thing without asking myself, “Have I closed this well?”


What cycles are still open in your life?

Maybe it’s time to give them the goodbye they deserve.

The Formula That Changed How I Understand Happiness

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been searching for patterns—shortcuts to clarity, formulas that simplify life’s complexities. One day, after a long walk and a long list of thoughts, I landed on this:

Happiness = Freedom + (Relationships || Play || Help)

At first glance, it looks simple. But like all good formulas, it holds depth.

Let me walk you through what it means to me—and why it’s become a compass I return to again and again.

The Backstory: Something Was Missing

Originally, I hadn’t even considered freedom as part of the equation. I spent a lot of time exploring what made me happy—was it connection with others? Was it joy and spontaneity? Was it the sense of meaning I got from helping people? I experimented with all three: relationships, play, and service.

And yet, something always felt incomplete.

Some days, even surrounded by people I loved, I felt stuck. Other times, even when I was doing something fun or meaningful, there was an underlying tension. Eventually, I realized that what was missing wasn’t external—it was internal. It was freedom. The freedom to choose, to breathe, to be.

I vividly remember the moment the idea began to take shape. I was at an amusement park—surrounded by bright lights, laughter, and entertainment—but I felt profoundly sad. I couldn’t shake the thought: How can I be so unhappy in a place designed to spark joy? That moment triggered a wave of reflection.

This reflection came during a time in my life when I wasn’t feeling particularly happy. I was actively experimenting with ideas and habits to improve my well-being, looking for what truly made a difference. Once I added freedom to the formula, everything made more sense.

Freedom as the Foundation

I believe happiness begins with freedom. Without it, everything else feels constrained.

Freedom can take many forms:

  • Freedom from fear, expectations, or limitations.
  • Freedom to create, rest, express, and explore.

It’s not about being irresponsible. It’s about having autonomy over your time, your thoughts, and your choices. For me, this is the foundation of a meaningful life.

The Three Paths: Relationships, Play, or Help

After freedom, the second part of the formula offers three interchangeable—but equally powerful—paths to fulfillment:

1. Relationships

Some days, happiness looks like a deep conversation with someone who just gets you.

Aristotle called friendship one of the highest goods.

Modern psychology confirms it: real connection—love, friendship, community—is essential to our well-being.

2. Play

Other days, happiness comes from play: laughing, dancing, reading, hiking, getting into flow.

Play reminds me to be present. To be spontaneous. To be free from expectations.

It’s not just for children—it’s for the inner child that still lives in all of us.

Play also introduces what researchers call psychological richness. It’s through play that we often experience novelty, surprise, and perspective shifts—elements that bring depth and variety to life. Whether it’s trying something new, exploring a different idea, or immersing ourselves in creative flow, play expands our inner world. In this sense, my formula isn’t just about feeling good—it also invites us to live richly and curiously.

3. Help

And then there are the days when happiness shows up through purpose—when I’m able to help someone, even in a small way.

Helping reminds me I’m not alone. It makes life feel bigger than me.

As Viktor Frankl said, “Those who have a ‘why’ to live can bear almost any ‘how.’”

Why “||”?

In programming, || means “or.” In this formula, it represents flexibility.

I don’t always need all three. Sometimes just one is enough to bring joy into my day.

One day it’s a walk with a friend. Another day it’s an hour of reading. And other times, it’s simply offering someone a kind word or support.

This “OR” gives me grace. It means I don’t have to chase every avenue of happiness all the time. I just need one.

Two Lenses: The Daily and the Lifelong

Over time, I’ve come to realize that this formula can be viewed through two powerful lenses—each offering a different kind of insight.

The original version:

Happiness = Freedom + (Relationships || Play || Help)

is what I turn to when I need a short-term boost. It’s a gentle reminder that if I’m feeling low or disconnected, I can do just one thing—reach out to a friend, play, or help someone—and it can shift my emotional state. It’s like a daily compass I can check in with.

Then there’s the more refined version:

Happiness = Freedom × (Relationships + Play + Help)

This one speaks to the long game. It reflects the idea that lasting well-being comes from integrating all three elements into a life built on freedom. When they all work together over time, happiness deepens. It’s not just about feeling good—it’s about building a good life.

Both versions have helped me in different ways. One meets me where I am, and the other helps me move toward where I want to be.

Final Thoughts

Life can feel overwhelming. But when I get lost in the noise, I return to this formula.

Happiness = Freedom + (Relationships || Play || Help)

It reminds me to ask:

Am I feeling free?

Am I connecting, playing, or serving in some way?

If the answer is no—then maybe I just need to return to the basics.

This formula doesn’t promise constant joy. But it does help me return to center.

Pressing Reset: The Blog, My Life, and What’s Next

It’s been a while since I’ve written here. Life, as it tends to do, got full—full of projects, deadlines, leadership challenges, research papers, and all the beautiful, messy things in between.

But I’ve missed this space.

Writing has always been a way for me to reflect, to connect, and to make sense of the world. So I’m pressing reset. Not starting over, exactly, but returning with a deeper sense of purpose.

Since my last post, a lot has changed.

I moved back to Atlanta, I stepped into a new role in tech. I also started a PhD in Human Development, diving into the science of habits and their impact on well-being and happiness. It’s been intense, rewarding, and sometimes overwhelming—but it’s also helped me see patterns, lessons, and truths I want to share.

This blog is my space to do just that.

I’m returning to write about the themes that keep showing up in my life: growth, habits, leadership, and well-being. Sometimes through personal stories. Sometimes through research. Sometimes through lessons I’ve learned the hard way.

You’ll find reflections on how to lead with intention, how to build sustainable habits, how to protect your energy in high-stress environments, and maybe even a few side adventures—photography, travel, tacos (because life is also meant to be enjoyed).

So here I am—back at the keyboard.

Let’s see where this takes us.

If you’ve been here before: thank you.

If you’re new: welcome.

If you’re curious about the messy, meaningful path of personal growth—I hope you’ll stick around.