Phia
ID：7349892
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Phia
3天前
😎 Just Me
Phia
10天前
There was a version of me who thought being strong meant being unaffected.
A version of me who believed confidence could silence pain.
The past three years — from 2023 to 2025 — were the years I now call my “Big Lesson Years.”
They were the years life forced me to slow down, strip away distractions, and face the parts of myself I spent years avoiding.
I hit the lowest point of my life.
Rock bottom.
I lost direction.
I lost confidence.
I lost my sense of purpose.
For the first time, I no longer knew who I truly was beneath all the survival, expectations, and pretending to be okay.
Some people seek healers to guide them back to their inner child — to revisit the moment where pain first began, to rescue the child trapped in trauma and bring them home again.
But for me, the journey was different.
I searched for the answers alone.
Every single day, I questioned myself over and over again:
“What happened to me?”
“Why do I feel this way?”
“Why do I keep hurting even when everything seems fine?”
For three years, I kept searching for the root of my pain, trying to understand what had shaped me into the person I became.
And when the answer finally came, I denied it.
I denied it because I thought I was strong.
I thought I was confident.
I thought I had moved on.
Consciously, I told myself I was okay.
But subconsciously, the wounded child in me had been carrying the weight all along.
That was the hardest truth to accept.
Healing was not dramatic.
It was quiet.
Painfully quiet.
It was waking up every day and asking difficult questions.
It was crying over memories I thought no longer mattered.
It was grieving the version of me that learned to survive before learning how to feel safe.
And after three long years, I finally understood something:
My trauma did not make me weak.
It shaped me.
The next step was not to erase the past, but to forgive it.
To let go.
To embrace every painful chapter and accept that those experiences became part of the person I am today.
Ironically, the very pain that broke me open also led me back to myself.
It helped me discover my true self.
My voice.
My purpose.
And maybe that is why this image means so much to me.
It is not just a photo of my younger self meeting who I am today.
It is a reunion.
A moment where the adult version of me finally looks at the child version of me and says:
“I found you.
I understand you now.
And I’m finally bringing you home.”
Phia
10天前
just us 🤎🤍
Phia
11天前
🤍🤎
Phia
2月前
The rain had just started to fall when this photo was taken.
Most people would run for shelter when the sky turns grey.
But not this person.
They stood there quietly, letting the moment settle around them — the soft rain, the warm glow of the sunset reflecting on the wet road, the calm after a long day. There’s something about people like this: they don’t rush through life. They observe it.
This is someone who has walked through many seasons of life.
Not the loud, dramatic kind of journey — but the kind built through years of learning about people, guiding them, and helping them become better versions of themselves. Someone who has spent decades understanding human nature: how people grow, how they struggle, how they lead, and sometimes… how they lose their way.
But beyond the professional titles and experience, there is another side.
A curious soul.
A storyteller.
Someone who believes that wisdom can come from unexpected places — a conversation, a quiet café moment, a training room full of young leaders, or even a deck of tarot cards spread across a table.
This person understands something many people forget:
Life is not just about success.
It is about meaning.
Some days they are a trainer, helping others find their leadership voice.
Some days they are an artist, letting creativity speak where words cannot.
Some days they are a reader of symbols and stories, helping people reflect on their own paths.
But at the core, they are simply someone who wants to make life a little better for others.
The rain in this photo feels symbolic.
Because people who carry wisdom often walk through storms — yet they learn how to stand in the rain without losing their calm.
The world might see just a quiet portrait:
a blazer, glasses, a thoughtful gaze.
But behind that gaze is a life filled with stories, lessons, reinvention, and courage — the kind that doesn’t shout for attention.
The kind that simply keeps showing up.
And sometimes, the most powerful people are the ones who stand calmly in the rain…
watching the sunset, knowing that every storm eventually leads to another beginning.
PFL： Not everyone runs from the rain.
Some people learn who they are within it.
Quiet but powerful.
Phia
2月前
Phia
3月前
Phia is BACK!
Between early 2021 to mid 2025, I was not truly myself.
I was lost. Confused. Depressed. Drained.
There were days I questioned my worth.
There were nights I questioned my existence.
For four years, it felt like life or death — internally.
I avoided people.
I withdrew.
I hid.
I walked away from conversations, from opportunities, from love.
Not because I didn’t care — but because I didn’t know how to hold myself together anymore.
The confidence I built over four decades collapsed in a single moment.
And every time I tried to rise again, it felt heavier than the last.
I fell.
And fell again.
And again.
But somehow… I survived.
Not because I was strong.
But because something — or someone — refused to let me go.
That season changed me. It humbled me. It stripped me.
It broke my ego. It broke my illusion. It broke my identity.
And in that breaking… I met the rawest version of myself.
I am not sharing this for sympathy.
I am not sharing this to play victim.
I am sharing this because growth is not always pretty.
Healing is not always aesthetic.
And sometimes the strongest people you know are quietly fighting battles you cannot see.
To those I hurt during those years — I am truly sorry.
There was never intention. Only confusion and pain.
To those who stayed…
To those who waited…
To those who loved me when I could not love myself…
Thank you. You will never know how much that mattered.
Today, I look back at those four years as my Tower moment.
The destruction was necessary.
Because without the collapse, I would never rebuild correctly.
And now…
It is time.
2026 —
New hair.
New aura.
New energy.
New mindset.
New boundaries.
New discipline.
New softness.
New power.
New blessings.
New perspective.
New chapter.
I am not becoming someone new.
I am returning to who I was always meant to be.
If you’re reading this and you are in your dark season — please know this:
Rock bottom is not your identity.
It is a foundation.
See you in 2026.
Stronger. Wiser. Softer. Unapologetically alive.
Phia
3月前
Participating the trend! #trending
Phia
4月前
Phia
4月前
Hello, New Year 🌙
May we move forward with softer hearts, braver choices, and more love for ourselves and one another.
Wishing you a year that feels okeh — and then better 🤎
