That's how change began. People who used to sleep until nine in the morning set a five-hour alarm to "optimize their lives". People who originally liked to eat sidewalk bun rieu began to switch to drinking cereal and eating nuts, because they heard friends advise them to follow the macrobiotic method. People who used to talk very frankly learned to "strategic communication", that is, say one sentence but let listeners understand three sentences.
At first, everyone sees clear progress. Friends start praising: "You look different these days". This saying sounds very nice. But the problem with change is that it rarely stops at the right time. Because after changing a little, people are easily addicted to the feeling of progress. Like going to the gym. Initially just wanting to be healthier, but after a while they start weighing each gram of protein...
So people continue to change. People who used to live simply begin to learn how to "build personal brands". People who used to speak naturally, now each sentence is like a miniature speech. At some point, old friends who meet again will say: "You have changed a lot". It sounds like a compliment. But if you are observant, you will see a bit of confusion in it. Because they are trying to remember what your previous version looked like.
Modern people are often advised to become the best version of themselves. This advice sounds very inspiring. But few people clearly state a small detail: The best version must still be oneself. A person who is inherently humorous can learn to be deeper, but if he then speaks like a philosophical dictionary, then perhaps progress has gone a bit too far. A person who is inherently gentle can learn to be decisive, but if he is so decisive that his friends start to avoid him, then the adjustment button may have been twisted too much.
The interesting thing is that people often only realize that they have changed too much when standing in front of very small things. An old song that once moved us but now sounds... a bit cheesy. An old friend recounts old memories and we sit indifferently as if listening to someone stranger's story.
At that time, we suddenly think: I don't know if I'm progressing, or just... getting lost.
Change is not an enemy. If you don't change, people will forever be stuck in their own experimental version. The problem is just that sometimes we need to stop a bit, like when traveling long distances, to look back at whether we are still walking with us, or have forgotten ourselves at some point. Because sometimes our best version is not the most perfect version.
