Ten Life Lessons I Wish I Had Learned Earlier – But I’m Grateful I Finally Did

By  Mirela Sula

There’s a saying: “When the student is ready, the teacher appears.” For many years, I wasn’t ready. I was filled with fear, self-doubt, and the exhausting belief that I had to wait for someone or something to give me permission to start living the life I dreamed of. I worried endlessly, hesitated constantly, and questioned my worth at every turn.

Eventually, life forced me to awaken. Through pain, heartbreak, and hard-earned wisdom, I discovered truths that transformed my perspective, my choices, and my future. These ten lessons came to me slowly, over time—but they are now my foundation.

I hope they find you exactly when you need them.

You have the right to choose the people who are part of your life (even if they are family)

One of the most liberating but difficult lessons in life is this: you are allowed to choose who belongs in your world. For much of my early life, I believed I had to tolerate certain relationships simply because of blood ties or shared history. I thought loyalty meant enduring emotional pain, accepting disrespect, and sacrificing my well-being. But I’ve come to understand that being related to someone doesn’t automatically grant them a permanent seat in your life.

This is not about revenge or resentment—it’s about boundaries and self-respect. You were not born to be emotionally drained by people who do not value your presence. Family, in its truest form, should nourish your soul, not diminish it. And if that nourishment isn’t coming from where you expected, you’re allowed to build your own version of family—one made of love, support, and mutual respect.

Choosing who gets access to you is an act of self-love. It’s not cruel; it’s necessary. You are not obligated to maintain relationships that harm you just because of shared DNA. The people who deserve you are the ones who celebrate your growth, honor your boundaries, and walk beside you with love and integrity.

You are already enough. You deserve love—simply because you exist

From the time we are young, many of us are taught to link our worth to what we can achieve or how well we can meet others’ expectations. We are praised for good grades, for pleasing others, for being quiet or helpful or pretty. Slowly, we start to internalize the idea that our value is conditional—that we must earn love, validation, and acceptance. I spent years carrying this false belief, constantly striving for approval, always feeling just one step behind being “enough.”

But the truth is this: you were born worthy. You don’t have to prove yourself to be loved. You don’t need to fix yourself to be accepted. Love isn’t something you earn through perfection—it’s something you deserve simply because you exist.

When you start believing this, everything changes. You stop settling for relationships that require you to shrink. You stop abandoning your needs to please others. And most importantly, you begin to cultivate a deep, unshakable love for yourself. That self-love becomes the foundation for every other relationship in your life.

You don’t have to chase worthiness. It’s already yours. Stand in it. Own it. Live from that truth, and watch how the world begins to respond differently to your presence.

 People will try to dim your light—and that has everything to do with them, not you

No matter how kind, talented, or well-intentioned you are, there will always be people who try to diminish you. It may come as subtle criticism, passive-aggressive remarks, or outright opposition. It can be painful, especially when it comes from people you love or trust. For a long time, I tried to make myself smaller, quieter, more agreeable—believing that if I just did everything right, the negativity would stop.

But here’s what I’ve learned: their reactions are not about you. They are about their own limitations, insecurities, and fears. Sometimes, your courage to rise exposes their unwillingness to grow. Your confidence becomes a mirror they aren’t ready to look into. And instead of rising with you, they try to pull you back.

Don’t let them.

You were not born to hide. You were born to lead, to speak, to create, to shine. And when someone tries to extinguish your light, remember: it’s because they can see it. Keep shining anyway. The world needs your brilliance, your voice, your unique essence.

Surround yourself with people who fan your flame, not those who fear your fire. And most of all, never apologize for the power of your presence.

People may hurt you. You’re allowed to feel the pain—but don’t stay there

Being hurt by others is a part of life. Some wounds run deep—betrayals from friends, disappointments in love, or abandonment from those we thought would always be there. In the aftermath, it’s natural to feel anger, sadness, even rage. And yes, you are absolutely allowed to feel that pain. You’re allowed to cry, to grieve, to scream.

But what you’re not meant to do is live there forever.

For a long time, I clung to blame, thinking it would protect me. I thought if I could just keep replaying what they did, I could somehow avoid ever being hurt again. But blame became a prison—and I was the one holding the key.

Healing starts when you stop asking, “Why did they do this to me?” and start asking, “What do I need to move forward?” That’s when true freedom begins. It’s not about excusing the harm; it’s about releasing its power over you.

Say thank you for the lesson—even if you never got an apology—and walk away. Not because they deserve forgiveness, but because you deserve peace. You deserve to move into your next chapter free, whole, and healed.

Grief is real—but so is your ability to rise again

Grief doesn’t follow logic. It crashes into your life like a tidal wave, pulling you under when you least expect it. Losing someone—whether through death, separation, or broken trust—can leave you breathless, numb, and lost. I’ve lived that kind of grief. I’ve screamed, “Why me?” into the silence, desperate for answers that never came.

But eventually, I realized I was asking the wrong question. Why me? keeps you trapped in a story you can’t change. The better question is: “What now?” How do I survive this? How do I live with this pain? How do I transform it into something meaningful?

Grief never disappears entirely, but it evolves. It softens. It becomes part of you—not as a wound, but as wisdom. The key is not to rush the process, but also not to surrender to it. Let grief move through you—but don’t let it define you.

Surround yourself with people who hold space for your healing. Read, write, create. Let your story become a lighthouse for others walking through the same storm. You survived. You are surviving. And one day, you will look back and realize: your ability to rise was even greater than the force that tried to break you.