The security of the familiar and the discomfort caused by change

I have entered the final month of my current studies. To focus on language learning, I shut out almost all external distractions and noise over the past few weeks, allowing my mind to remain, theoretically, at least, as sharp as possible. In practice, however, this state of existence, completely clear, sober, and dedicated almost exclusively to learning, held a surprise in store for me. Although I am far from perfect, I have finally managed to master the most difficult parts; my language skills have grown more confident. Yet, while I was busy memorizing rules, something else in the background was demanding my attention far more loudly.

I found myself facing these questions: what is truly mine, and what am I carrying with me simply out of habit?

There exists a remarkable, invisible social script that we, women, in particular, are expected to follow. Not exclusively, perhaps, but to a large extent. It is a social norm dictating that we must handle everything, absolutely everything, in silence. We should build a career, because otherwise, we’re just gold diggers (the fact that we still have to beg for equal pay as we approach 2030 is ridiculous in itself), yet we mustn't neglect our homes, since that is solely our responsibility... I won’t even mention the number of roles an average mom fills at home without financial compensation, seeing as I’m not a mother myself. It would also take too long to discuss how demonized my choice to take this path actually is. We are expected to eat perfectly and maintain our weight like we’re still 20, regardless of how many children we’ve borne, what illnesses we’re battling, or at what age hormonal changes hit us, because that is the only way we remain attractive to men. Worldwide, the vast majority of child marriage victims are girls; women are the primary targets of domestic violence; and there is even a double standard regarding aging: while men become "charming" as the years go by, society views aging in women as a source of shame and a process of becoming invisible. Under these circumstances, it is downright cynical to expect a woman to handle everything on her own, and with a smile, no less. What makes it most dangerous is the expectation that we should pull this off quietly and with dignity. It is the myth of the "Superwoman", the one who doesn't ask for help because doing so is seen as annoying or burdensome to others.

Here’s what I think about that: it’s fucking bullshit.

I haven’t seen a psychologist in twenty years. Back then, twenty years ago, I didn’t like the experience. Instead, I opted for alternative methods like kinesiology, or classic, destructive coping strategies: total repression, drinking several times a week, and tension-relieving drugs. It wasn’t really about quantity; the point was to take the edge off reality for as long as possible. Because I wanted to handle it on my own. Because I believed that being strong meant enduring and holding out.

Now, however, I am not simply turning my back on the situation; I have made a conscious decision. I am sitting down to talk with a professional, a woman who fully understands the destructive nature of patriarchal structures, someone who certainly doesn’t believe in medieval, pseudoscientific "re-education" methods like "weeding out" homosexuality through prayer. (It turned out years later that the man I had first tried seeing was actually into that sort of thing.) You see, I don’t want to change myself to meet society’s expectations, but rather to untangle everything the world has heaped upon me.

The gruelling work I’ve done on myself over the past few years no longer allows me to play games. I have reached the point where I can not only talk about the difficulties but also feel a genuine urge to start over, to experience what it is like to face things as an adult. I no longer feel ashamed to ask for help. Along the way, I realized that solving everything on one’s own is not a virtue; it is merely an ingrained bad habit that was time to shed.

However, even if you do not have to handle everything alone, it is still worth turning your deep, focused attention toward whatever within you is seeking to change.

As I sort out the foundations within, I take similar action on the outside, sprucing up my surroundings and my home, for instance. I’ve also uploaded a few new items to the website, as work and creativity are integral parts of who I am; I am not driven by external expectations, but rather move at my own pace. My embroidery is progressing slowly but surely; I’ve just finished a massive project and am already deep into the next one.

Sprucing up our home isn’t a superficial distraction, but a physical projection of my inner sense of security. Just as the walls receive a fresh coat of paint, the space within my mind clears as well. I feel the same way about my embroidery: the completed massive work and the newly started project are not tasks bound by deadlines. It isn’t piecework done for some invisible client. Every single stitch represents a quiet moment, a time when, instead of reacting to the outside world’s expectations, I create order and structure within my own micro-world.

I am satisfied with them, and with myself in general. I even treated myself to a few new things, even though for years I’ve only bought something when the previous item wore out. But the heatwave is over; it’s time to take long walks again to ground myself and, step by step, rebuild the life I truly want to live.

Of course, the system isn't perfect yet. Sometimes I lose track of time while fiddling with my phone, and although I try to be mindful of my diet, I easily let myself be tempted by things that seem like a good idea in the moment. But I value flexibility over rigid rules these days. Now is the time to strengthen my sense of home, security, roots, and inner foundation, not because society expects me to "build a nest," but because I want to stand firmly on my own two feet. The period ahead isn't about deprivation; it’s about shedding unnecessary burdens and old, bad habits.

And how do we let go of all this? I continue to turn to my tried-and-tested methods, things I’ve shared here before, but as the saying goes, repetition is the mother of learning. It’s not about making drastic, sweeping resolutions; those only create more tension. Success comes more easily when we catch ourselves in the act (say, after an hour of aimlessly scrolling on the phone) and, instead of beating ourselves up, simply put the device down and lace up our walking shoes.

The cool autumn air following the heatwave is perfect for grounding. The rhythm of long, solitary walks helps us reconnect with our bodies. Letting go of burdens begins with allowing ourselves to be imperfect. You don’t have to fix everything that isn’t working right away; take a deep breath and let your inner needs guide you.

The photos here are from my previous apartment, taken a few years ago, back when I was just starting to dive into embroidery. It’s exciting to look back and see what became of that little metal tin and the Monstera embroidery I had just begun. You can see the finished result on Instagram.

Let it begin,

Ivett