Rather, I take responsibility for every failure in my life without a second thought. But sometimes, that makes me forget that everyone around me is also human—fully capable of making mistakes, both unintentionally and intentionally.

Moving on, let me talk about the main topic.

Here is the thing: people don't like surprises, especially when those surprises involve change. Since the average human mind is often preoccupied with the opinions it holds about others, people become uncomfortable when they see you progressing toward a change they cannot understand. And if they are completely unaware of that change, it only adds to the frustration of those same people who once took unwritten oaths to support you no matter what.

I am a 22-year-old cancer survivor. I walked into the operating theatre with just one thought in mind: that I would not make it out alive. To be honest, after the kind of surgeries I had to undergo, I did not even want to make it out alive. But when I did, I came out with a single conviction: this was a second chance at life—a chance to live with meaning. No matter what happens, I am not going to fall short of what I have envisioned for myself. I will push every limit, transgress every mental boundary, and claim everything I possibly can from this small, fragile existence of mine. I want to make it larger than anything in the world.

Now I am at a point in my life where I have to support my family financially, help them survive in this big city, and still work toward my dreams. I never thought it would be this hard. I mean the dreams. And the difficulty is coming from places I never expected.

Here is the context behind this thought.

I was leaving my company to join another one after working here for almost two years. During that time, I had built meaningful relationships with people I genuinely respect. I had also been retained once before, about a year ago. This time, however, I did not have the mental capacity to answer all the questioning eyes or deal with people's criticism and opinions. So I asked my supervisor to keep it quiet—just forward my resignation email to HR and let me quietly complete my notice period. She agreed.

Then one of the managers from another department, someone I had worked with before, was included in the email along with the rest of the management. I requested him, along with a few others who knew me, to keep it low-profile.

He announced it.

Like a fucking kid who does exactly what you tell him not to do.

And what was the end result?

My close colleagues had no idea I had resigned, while the rest of the office already knew. So when my teammates eventually found out after the weekend, they were understandably upset. That part, I can accept. I probably deserved it. But what happened afterward was something I never expected.

The managers in my department became noticeably colder during conversations. Colleagues started making strange remarks, criticizing me directly and subtly trying to put me down. The very people I used to have late-night coffee with became distant the moment they realized I was leaving.

And I found myself thinking:

"Why the fuck do people have to be so predictable? Why are they all so shallow? Or maybe I'm the one who did something wrong by not telling everyone? My only intention was to leave this place with as little drama as possible. I am already exhausted by things that people seem to care so deeply about. I don't want to get involved in all this, but somehow I always end up having to. And that is when I started to feel like I was losing myself."

I needed to leave because this place had become my comfort zone. Ironically, it had also become a place where I could clearly see there was no room left for my growth.

So I decided to leave for anything that was even slightly better.

This felt like that opportunity.

I needed to create a space for myself where I would be surrounded by people who genuinely cared about me. There are certainly people I care deeply about, but I still struggle to see many who genuinely care for me in return.

So talking about the cost of moving in life is that the people you thought were on your side are the ones ready with knives to stab you in their sleeves.