Mindful Minion

I think loneliness has followed me for almost my entire life.

I can’t remember exactly when it started, but I know that by elementary school, I already felt different from other kids. I didn’t know how to talk to people naturally. I didn’t know how to start conversations, maintain conversations, or make friends easily. While everyone else seemed to socialize so effortlessly, I felt like I had somehow missed the instruction manual for being human.

From elementary school all the way through middle school, I barely had any close friends at all. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever truly had a best friend in my life.

I had classmates who talked to me, and most people were nice enough to me, but my strongest memory from childhood is still loneliness. During recess, other kids would hang out together while I wandered around alone aimlessly, not really knowing where to go or what to do with myself.

I was extremely shy ~ painfully shy.

I couldn’t maintain eye contact with people. I was socially anxious, socially awkward, and constantly self-conscious. I wanted connection so badly, but I never knew how to become the kind of person people naturally gravitated toward. I didn’t know how to be funny, interesting, charismatic, or socially effortless the way other people seemed to be.

And honestly, I’ve spent a large part of my life feeling fundamentally boring.

I wasn’t the smartest student in class. I wasn’t the prettiest girl either. I didn’t have extraordinary talents, fascinating hobbies, or a huge personality. Even as a child, I think I was already aware of that, and over time, my inability to connect with people slowly damaged my self-esteem.

I started believing that something about me was fundamentally lacking.

So I compensated by becoming a people pleaser.

Even with friendships and everyday relationships, I constantly felt like I had to earn people’s affection by trying harder, giving more, being more useful, more agreeable, and more understanding. I became terrified of abandonment and rejection. I worried constantly that people would leave once they realized I wasn’t “good enough.”

School was never a happy experience for me because it constantly reminded me of how disconnected I felt from everyone else. So eventually, I created my own world instead.

I started talking to myself very early on. I created imaginary conversations in my head. At night, I would comfort myself by mentally talking through my feelings before falling asleep. Honestly, I still do that sometimes even now when I feel overwhelmed or stressed.

In many ways, I became my own best friend because I didn’t really know how to emotionally rely on other people.

High school was probably the worst period socially. I barely talked to anyone. I felt almost invisible in class, like I existed quietly in the background while everyone else was fully participating in life.

Then eventually, I moved abroad to Singapore.

In some ways, things became slightly better. I had roommates, other Vietnamese students around me, and people were generally kind to me. But emotionally, I still felt isolated.

That was also my first time living independently, and I struggled with everything ~ paying bills, grocery shopping, housekeeping, ironing clothes, commuting, and simply learning how to take care of myself. Suddenly life felt overwhelming all at once.

At school, I studied science subjects, so my classes were mostly male-dominated with only a few girls. Everyone around me seemed so smart, talented, funny, and socially comfortable. Meanwhile, I felt awkward, insecure, lonely, and completely out of place.

A lot of people around me also spoke Chinese with each other, which made me feel even more disconnected socially. I didn’t necessarily struggle academically because of language, but emotionally, I constantly felt like I was standing outside conversations instead of inside them.

I remember walking home alone constantly. Eating alone. Existing alone.

And honestly, food slowly became one of my biggest emotional coping mechanisms.

I started emotionally eating very heavily during that period. Fast food, takeout, late-night eating ~ food became comfort, distraction, entertainment, and emotional relief all at once. Looking back now, I think I developed a very unhealthy relationship with food because I didn’t know how to process emotions properly.

When I felt empty, anxious, rejected, or lonely, I ate.

That same loneliness followed me again when I moved to the United States for college.

I first arrived in Seattle during winter, and honestly, I think that made everything worse. The cold weather, the rain, the darkness, the unfamiliar environment ~ all of it intensified my loneliness. Looking back now, I genuinely think I was experiencing severe depression at the time, possibly even seasonal depression on top of everything else.

I stayed with a Filipino host family at first, and they were kind to me. I even joined them occasionally for outings, fairs, and random activities like clam digging.

But emotionally, I still felt completely alone.

I remember they would sometimes have parties or gatherings at the house, and I would just hide in my room the entire time. No matter how hungry I was, I didn’t want to come out if there were too many people around. I was that shy and socially anxious.

Looking back now, I realize I wasn’t just shy ~ I was genuinely afraid of social interaction. I didn’t know how to act naturally around people, and even simple conversations felt overwhelming to me.

Eventually, I moved to California ~ specifically Bakersfield ~ and stayed with family acquaintances there while attending community college.

But honestly, that same pattern continued there too.

If there were people in the kitchen or common areas, I would avoid going out altogether. Sometimes I would wait for everyone to leave before quietly coming out to get food or use the kitchen. Honestly, it sometimes genuinely felt like a relief when the house finally became empty enough for me to come out comfortably.

However, things became much better for me academically. For the first time in my life, I actually felt proud of myself intellectually. I became an A student, graduated with honors, and built a strong academic identity for myself.

Studying became my coping mechanism.

Achievement distracted me from loneliness. It gave me structure, purpose, and temporary validation. I spent most of my time studying, doing homework, or trying to improve myself academically because it felt safer than trying to navigate relationships.

But emotionally, I was still struggling deeply.

I remember one semester especially vividly when I transferred from community college to California State University, Fullerton.

Ironically, despite being surrounded by so many Vietnamese Americans who looked like me culturally, I felt even lonelier.

I had classmates and casual friendships, but I was too shy and insecure to truly connect with people. Deep down, I always felt like I wasn’t interesting enough, attractive enough, funny enough, or valuable enough to deserve friendship naturally.

I constantly felt like I had nothing meaningful to offer people.

I remember spending holidays alone in my dorm room eating instant noodles, Rice-A-Roni, and cereal while everyone else went home to their families for Thanksgiving or Christmas.

Those memories still hurt me when I think about them.

Even now, during holiday seasons, I sometimes think back to how lonely I felt in America. I remember walking around alone constantly, soul-searching, trying to figure out who I was and what the point of my life even was.

I liked America very much, but emotionally, I never felt like I truly belonged anywhere.

And honestly, I think that period was one of the darkest periods of my life mentally.

I had severe depression that probably went undiagnosed at the time. I also strongly suspect now that I had ADHD symptoms for years, but back then, I was just trying to survive emotionally day by day.

I even struggled with suicidal thoughts during that period.

And the hardest part was that I didn’t feel like I had anybody I could truly call and talk to honestly about how bad things felt inside my head.

After that, I moved to Australia for my master’s degree, and again, loneliness followed me there too.

I had roommates. I went on dates. I had casual friendships here and there. But emotionally, I still felt disconnected.

And honestly, dating often made the loneliness worse instead of better.

Because I craved emotional connection so badly, I developed limerence very easily. I would become emotionally attached to people quickly, especially emotionally unavailable men or people who seemed uncertain about what they wanted.

Sometimes I barely even knew them deeply, but emotionally, I would build entire fantasies around the possibility of finally feeling chosen, understood, or emotionally safe with someone.

And almost every time, I ended up hurt.

Looking back now, I think many of those attachments were never really about the person themselves. I think they were about trying to fill a loneliness that had already existed inside me for years.

Every failed connection reinforced my fear that maybe emotional closeness was something other people could have naturally, but not me.

That was also the period when my emotional eating and impulsive spending became worse. I would order food constantly, stay up late, spend money impulsively, and try to fill this emotional void inside of me with temporary comfort.

But the emptiness always came back afterward.

Eventually, I returned to Vietnam and started working, but the loneliness still never completely disappeared.

Honestly, working made me realize how difficult human relationships are for me in general.

I struggled badly with workplace relationships, office politics, management dynamics, and social expectations. I always felt like I had to prove myself constantly, but at the same time, I never truly felt like I belonged anywhere.

Part of it was probably because I’m naturally shy and socially anxious. Part of it was because I was already mentally exhausted from carrying years of loneliness and emotional instability. And part of it was because I do have diagnosed bipolar disorder, which affects my emotions, energy levels, and relationships more than people probably realize.

I also struggle with anger issues sometimes, but honestly, that’s probably a whole separate story for another day.

Corporate life genuinely scared me.

I hated waking up in the morning knowing I had to go to work. I hated sitting for long hours until my back hurt. I hated forcing myself to socialize when mentally I just wanted silence.

And honestly, dealing with people exhausted me the most.

Not because everyone was horrible. Some people were perfectly nice. But workplaces are still workplaces. People are stressed, impatient, passive-aggressive, dismissive, or unintentionally hurtful sometimes. And because I’m emotionally sensitive, even small negative interactions affected me very deeply.

A single rude comment could ruin my entire day emotionally.

Meanwhile, everyone else seemed able to brush things off and move on normally.

I couldn’t.

A lot of the time, all I wanted to do after work was go home, curl up in bed, and disappear from the world for a while. Sleep for five days straight. Stop thinking. Stop talking. Stop dealing with people.

And honestly, that contradiction inside me has always been confusing.

When I’m alone for too long, I feel unbearably lonely.

But when I spend too much time around people, I become emotionally drained and overwhelmed.

So sometimes I genuinely don’t know where I belong socially.

I don’t know if I’ll ever fully find “my people” or a group where I naturally fit in without forcing myself to perform socially all the time.

Maybe I will someday. Maybe I won’t.

I think living abroad for so many years also made me feel culturally disconnected in a strange way. Even though I’m Vietnamese, I don’t fully feel like I completely belong anywhere anymore. I’ve spent so much time overseas that sometimes connecting with people in Vietnam feels strangely difficult too.

Not because anyone is doing anything wrong, but simply because our life experiences are often very different.

And I think that feeling of emotional and cultural displacement adds another layer to the loneliness sometimes.

But honestly, at this point, loneliness is not something new to me anymore. It’s been part of my life for so long that I’ve stopped viewing it as some temporary phase that will magically disappear one day.

It just is what it is.

Everybody has their own struggles in life, and I guess this happens to be one of mine.

You play the hand you’re dealt and try your best to survive it somehow.

That’s really all you can do.

I don’t know whether surviving loneliness has made me stronger, wiser, or better in any meaningful way. Sometimes I still feel emotionally weak compared to other people. Sometimes I still struggle badly with overthinking, anxiety, attachment issues, and emotional instability.

But I’m still here.

And maybe resilience does not always look like confidence, strength, or fearlessness.

Maybe sometimes resilience simply means surviving things quietly for years and continuing to wake up anyway.

And honestly, maybe that’s enough.