Saeeesstuff10 - Saeee - Tumblr Blog

Fifteen years-it's all it took to shape me into the Saee I always envisioned. Looking back, I'm genuinely proud of myself, and that pride is incomparable. No one could be me because every intricate detail of my life molded who I am today. My life is a masterpiece, one I cherish deeply.

It's not something that can be understood at a glance. My life has been a mystery, one that no one has fully uncovered. In fact, no one truly knows the real me because I keep evolving every day. You might know my name, but never my story. I've walked some of the darkest paths, alone from the very beginning. But you know what? Each one led me to the most magnificent, beautiful moments. It's like walking through the gates of hell only to find yourself in heaven.

I couldn't love myself any less, because I've grown through my own strength. I taught myself, solved my problems, and carved my own path. You can't hold on to a version of me, because I grow each day. Honestly, anyone's perception of me doesn't matter. I know myself so well that I could write endlessly about my journey. And that kind of self-awareness is something I've mastered. I'd never compare myself to anyone-why would I? I love myself more than all the multiverses combined. I'm not perfect, and I'm not striving to be. All I've ever wanted was to be whole, and now, I am.

I feel privileged to be the "chosen one," to be born in this country, this state, this place. I'm grateful to have been the black sheep in my family. The pain and years of trauma didn't go to waste-they gave me spiritual knowledge and elevated my soul to a higher realm. Looking back at the three-year-old me who faced so much those memories bring flashes of rage

and resentment. I'd never wish my life on anyone; it would feel like handing over a curse. While everything eventually led to the best outcomes, it came at the cost of losing myself repeatedly.

People say everything happens for a reason, and I couldn't agree more. The way my life transformed from nothing to everything is nothing short of magical. What might take years of therapy for others, I handled myself-alone. I admit I haven't fully healed, but I've blossomed like a flower that endured storms and hurricanes without losing a petal. I've stood strong. It took an incredible amount of patience to be where I am now, and even though I almost gave up many times, I held on.

Now, when I look at my soul, I see it glowing, radiating with the awakenings I've experienced. I've become one with the universe, and since then, I've lived in abundance. I don't just see people; I see their souls. I'm the kind of person who harbors no hate because I understand the why behind people's actions. At this point, the material world doesn't interest me much. My soul is seeking liberation, and from here on, this journey is about me. I think I've figured out my soul's purpose, and I'll do my best to fulfill it in this lifetime, in this realm, as a human being. This is my story as Saee.

They say twin flames are rare,

A soul divided,

Split across time,

And somehow, we find each other.

But what if we’re not meant to be?

What if we’re destined

To spend each lifetime

Just out of reach?

Are we meant to meet again

Only to part once more,

Waiting for the stars to align

In a way they never will?

Or are you my lesson,

A love that will never be,

A soul I’ll never hold,

But one I will always feel?

EGO?

Is it ego when I begged every god you can name, just to have them acknowledge my existence? Is it ego when I pleaded with every god just for my parents to love me? Honestly, you don’t know my side of the story—you have no idea. So, if that makes me egoistic, then yes, I have ego. If going numb to every hurtful word they say about me, knowing they don’t even know who I truly am, is considered ego, then yes, I have ego.

It’s ironic how people talk about staying hopeful through tough times, as if depression and anxiety are just conditions you can easily cure. Isn’t it strange how, when someone takes their own life, the conclusion is always, "Their mental health wasn’t okay"? Then all you hear is, “They should’ve opened up. If only they had spoken to someone, they’d still be alive.” But what about the countless times they tried to open up, tried to express themselves, tried to talk? And all they heard in return was, “Oh, come on, you’re being dramatic. It’s all in your head. Your life is fine.”

What about acknowledging the smallest struggles so that maybe living would feel a little lighter? Where’s the maturity from those who are 30 or 40 years old, the supposed "adults"? Where’s the understanding? And then they dismiss it, saying, “It’s just a phase.” But what if it was never a phase?

Some people suppress their pain until they can’t take it anymore, while others become so hardened by it that they end up hurting those around them. Villains aren’t just born—they’re shaped by those who mold them into one.

Love—especially romantic love—terrifies me. Not because I’m afraid of falling in love, but because I’m a hopeless romantic. When I love someone, they will never feel unloved. I’ll remind them constantly, writing poems and endless paragraphs just to say how much I love and appreciate their presence. I’ll get creative, drawing sketches of them, writing letters. It sounds cheesy, doesn’t it? But I’ll even fall in love with their flaws, effortlessly seeing them as perfect, without question.

I’m the kind of person who remembers every detail: every word they say, how they place their hands, the way their face lights up when talking about that one topic. And the most surprising part? I won’t care whether they reciprocate or put in any effort at all. I’ll love them from afar, content in the act of loving.

That’s what scares me the most. Maybe this generation doesn’t deserve this kind of affection, or perhaps we just don’t meet the right people because it’s not meant to be yet. Maybe we have to learn our lessons first, growing into the person we’re meant to be for the one who will love us as if we are their entire universe.

"But you never told me what’s wrong with you, I just don’t understand you," they say. Exactly—you don’t understand me. You never will. Because you’ve never felt what it's like to have the person you love most scream at you, telling you they wish you were dead and that you're the worst thing that ever happened to them. You don’t know what it’s like to give everything you have just to make them happy, only to hear that their life is a living hell because of you, that you’ll never be enough.

You don’t understand the pain of watching someone else get everything you’ve ever wanted without even trying, while you’ve fought, struggled, and nearly broken yourself, only to end up with nothing. And still, all you hear are the same words—"you are never enough."

I’ve always felt that I could never fall in love with someone, not because I don’t believe in love, but because to me, love holds so much meaning. The feeling of being loved or loving someone feels like pure mysticism—so simple yet profoundly deep. Maybe it stems from my childhood, where I was left begging for love, and the fear of abandonment took root. One of my deepest dreams has always been to be loved unconditionally, just for existing. Imagine someone telling you, “I love you simply for being.” I’d melt in that moment. For me, love isn’t something I can ever "move on" from. If I love, I love completely, with all of me, until my last breath. It doesn’t matter if we’re in contact or not; love remains. Perhaps I hold back because I never received the love I needed when I was supposed to. I had to sit down and teach myself how to love myself just to experience that feeling. Maybe that’s why, whenever I feel like I love something or someone, I always hesitate. To me, love is transcendent, powerful. I could never waste it on someone who wouldn’t value it in return. I’ve learned to love myself, and I know no one will ever love me the way I do. And I’m okay with that. Perhaps waiting for "the one" isn’t as important as becoming the one for yourself. In the end, I truly love the concept of love. It’s so pure. And honestly, everything is love anyway. Peace.

I’ve been feeling a random urge to blog my thoughts lately, probably because I love how I analyze things in my life. I take pride in the wisdom I’ve gained. Recently, though, I’ve been feeling drained, or maybe it’s just nothingness—but I feel that nothingness completely. Sylvia Plath’s quote resonates with me: "I don't understand how people can feel no emotions, but even when I feel nothing, I feel it completely." That’s exactly where I am right now, like I’m floating through space, unable to see the past, present, or future—just darkness, pure darkness.

I’m not sure if it’s a spiritual attack or something else, but I’ve thought about ending everything. Then I realize it’s not myself that I hate—it’s the world. It’s not even hate, really. It’s frustration from trying so hard to be kind, to fit into societal standards, and still feeling like I’m never enough. The truth is, there’s no point in explaining yourself to others. No one can truly understand unless they’ve lived your exact experience, and that’s impossible.

What I’ve come to understand is that I don’t hate anyone or anything—it’s the unrealistic standards that people set, judging others so easily, like labeling someone as “smart” or “ugly.” The universe didn’t create anything bad; everything is unique, and we need to respect that. Not standing up for yourself only makes things worse, as the harm to your self-concept is immense. Even when we’re consciously okay, our brain processes it differently. Everything we affirm manifests, so no matter what the world says, I’ll stand up for myself because I know they don’t truly know who I am or what I’ve been through.

In the grand scheme, none of this matters. Life is just an experience, and relationships are secondary. It’s about our soul’s journey—learning karmic lessons and moving forward. Once we’ve done that, our soul ascends to a higher dimension. So do you think a few people calling me names will affect me? If they hate me, that’s on them—they’re just adding to their own karmic baggage. Not my problem. Do whatever you want; I won’t care because, in the end, it’s all about the individual journey. Peace. ☁️

Everything is simply energy. We’re all just vibrating our way through life.

"They say, 'But she’s so closed off.' That’s because when I truly let someone into my energy, it means I genuinely care for and love that person, and they actually deserve it. Not everyone needs to be a friend—sometimes terms like 'acquaintance' or 'mutual' are more fitting, so use them. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but when I love someone or something, I can’t unlove or move on. If I love, I love fully, and it’s forever. That’s just who I am."

Expectations kills excitement.

LIFE. Four big letters, yet it’s completely different for each of the 8 billion people on this planet. No two experiences are the same; every life is unique. So why, as a society, do we push these grand expectations—that life should be all glitters and rainbows, filled with flashing lights, and that we should be remembered by everyone? Why? It’s concerning, really. Growing up, we’re all taught that we need to get perfect grades, attend a prestigious college, land a high-paying job, become famous, and be widely known. In short, we’re told to become someone admired and loved by millions.

But I question this. Why impose this romanticized ideal of how a person should live, when life is meant to be authentic? Maybe I don’t want my life to follow that script. Maybe I want to do what I love, stand up for what I believe in. What if I don’t care about being famous or having my name written in a textbook somewhere? Does that mean I’ve failed at life? What if I’m happy and content with who I am, how I live, how I dress, and the choices I’ve made?

Because in the end, what truly matters is feeling whole, not chasing perfection. Life isn’t meant to be all good—we need bad days, we need imperfections, we need failures. It’s all part of the journey, and it’s different for everyone. We can’t judge others, because we don’t know their stories or what they’ve been through.

At the core, doesn’t everyone want love, happiness, and peace? So why chase it, why seek validation from others, when we should be deciding for ourselves what we want to be? The point is, authenticity matters. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. It’s okay to disappoint others, as long as you’re proud of yourself and the way you live.

After all, you can’t be deeply loved without being hated by someone. It’s okay to be the villain in someone’s story if it means you’re standing up for your values and boundaries. In the end, doesn’t everyone deserve a happy ending?

When we talk about love, it’s important to recognize that, in this generation, the term is often limited to romantic contexts. But love exists in every aspect of life! For instance, appreciating a flower you see on your walk—that’s love because it brings you instant joy. Anything that provides you with inner happiness reflects your love for that thing, and being joyful in yourself is the highest vibration.

Yes, love can manifest romantically, but it’s a misconception to think it exists only in that form. Love for yourself, your friends, family, and children may not be romantic, but it is love nonetheless. Can we please stop limiting its potential? I believe that everything is made of love, exists to love, and is for love. So let’s embrace the magic of the word "LOVE."

When discussing toxic parenting, it's disheartening to see how some parents resort to mean comments, physical harm, and mental abuse, only to justify their actions by claiming it's for their child's own good—to make them strong enough to face the world. While I understand that parents often don’t intend to harm their children and may genuinely believe they’re acting in their best interests, it raises the question of why they don’t take the time to heal their own traumas before having children. Addressing their unresolved issues could foster healthier bonds.

Yet, many refuse to accept that their trauma affects their behavior. Parenting can and should involve positive methods. When parents complain that their child is a rebel and doesn’t listen, they need to recognize that this behavior stems from their own actions. When a child is born, their mind is like an empty cup; whatever you fill it with—through your teachings and actions—shapes how they will adapt to life.

The rise in childhood depression can often be traced back to inadequate parenting education and unhealed trauma that leads to repeating toxic generational patterns. Ultimately, if you want to ensure a bright future for your child, it’s crucial to understand them rather than exerting power over them. This approach can help prevent heartbreaking situations where children feel the need to hide their pain or worse. The focus should be on addressing the parents' issues, not blaming the innocent child.