Moving Through Life at My Own Pace

I’ve been thinking a lot about how I move through the world—literally. Back when I was in school, I walked everywhere. I mean, really walked. And not on flat, straight paths. There were stairs, turns, small hills, all sorts of little obstacles. And I never felt like I was running. I didn’t rush because I had to. I just moved fast. It was kind of natural, you know?

Even inside the house, you’d notice me moving quickly. Sometimes it was for nothing—just picking something up, going to the bathroom, fetching a book. Other times, it mattered. But the tempo, the rhythm, it just became the default. My body got used to it. And honestly? I don’t think I even noticed I was different from others until later.

That habit of moving fast, of being ahead of everyone else physically, ended up shaping more than just how I walked. It meant I rarely lined up with friends or cousins who were the same age. I’d arrive at school alone, head back alone. It wasn’t a conscious choice to isolate myself; it just happened. And over time, I got used to being by myself. Comfortable, actually.

I see now that this pattern carried over into other areas of my life. I’m someone who works best alone, unless a task genuinely can’t be done solo. Small talk, social norms, trends, these things often feel irrelevant to me. I don’t follow domestic pop culture or music. I mostly consume content from outside my country—music in English, Japanese, Korean, Russian, sometimes instrumental stuff that barely hits the mainstream. Politics, tech, even media—I tend to track things globally rather than locally. Honestly, I don’t even know what’s trending at home half the time, and I’m okay with that.

I know some people might read this and think it sounds antisocial or cold. But it’s not like that. I just... don’t feel the need to engage with things that don’t matter to me. And yeah, when I’m around groups of people, I’m quiet. Only speak when necessary. You only have so much to give, and I’d rather give it to what actually matters to me.

The funny thing is, having a small circle of people is fine. Perfectly fine. I don’t need a crowd. I’ve learned over the years that I don’t crave social noise. I like a few people, meaningful interactions, and my own space. It’s balance. And I think the early habit of moving fast, being alone by default, probably helped me figure that out.

So, all these little patterns—walking fast, working alone, tuning out irrelevant trends—feel connected. They shaped how I approach life, how I structure my time, and even how I engage with others. And honestly? I like it that way.