How Two Simple Lists Completely Transformed My Life

“Happiness turned to me and said, ‘It is time. It is time to forgive yourself for all of the things you did not become… Above all else, it is time to believe, with reckless abandon, that you are worthy of me, for I have been waiting for years.” ~Bianca Sparacino

I didn’t know who I was.

That realization hit me like a punch to the chest after I ended a decade-long relationship and canceled my wedding six weeks before it was supposed to happen.

I remember standing in my kitchen one morning, staring at the floor, and thinking, I have no idea what kind of music I actually like.

That might sound small, but it was the beginning of everything unraveling.

Because when you don’t know what kind of music you like… you probably don’t know what your values are. Or your opinions. Or your boundaries. Or your identity.

And in my case, I didn’t.

My identity had been shaped entirely by other people. I had become an expert in sensing what people wanted me to be—and then being it.

I did it with romantic partners, with friends, with coworkers. It was like I had this superpower: I could walk into a room, assess the energy, and morph myself into whoever I thought would be the most likable version of me in that context.

Great for my acting career. Not so great for real life.

When the relationship ended and I finally found myself alone, I didn’t just feel lost. I felt hollow. I didn’t have a self to come home to. And the loneliness? It was unbearable.

I entered what I now call my “summer of sadness.”

At the time, I called it freedom. I drank more than usual. Partied more than usual. I told myself I was finally living. But behind all of it was a deep, silent ache. A confusion. An emotional fog that wouldn’t lift.

Eventually, the fog turned into something darker: I spiraled into a rock-bottom moment I never saw coming. It was like my soul said, Enough.

And somewhere in that mess, I grabbed a pen.

I didn’t know what else to do. I had so much swirling inside me, and nothing made sense. So I sat down with my journal and wrote two lists.

List One: Who I Am

This list was hard to write. It wasn’t self-love-y or positive. It was honest.

I wrote things like:

I’m anxious and overthinking constantly.
I say yes when I want to say no.
I try to be what I think others want me to be.
I interrupt people when they are speaking because I want to feel relatable.
I feel guilty all the time, and I don’t know why.
I don’t trust myself.

There was no sugarcoating. No judgment either. Just observation.

I looked at the page and thought, Okay. This is where I’m at.

Then I flipped the page.

List Two: Who I Want to Be

This list felt different. Not dreamy or abstract, but clear.

I wrote things like:

I want to be grounded and calm.
I want to be kind, patient, and generous.
I want to listen more than I speak.
I want to say no without guilt.
I want to show up more in love and less in fear.
I want to move through the world not feeling like I always need to prove myself.

Reading them back, I could feel how wildly different those two versions of me were—not just in how I showed up for the world, but in how I treated myself.

One list was full of fear, defensiveness, and guilt. The other was rooted in confidence, calm, and choice.

It wasn’t about becoming a brand-new person. It was about becoming more me—the version of me that had been buried under layers of people-pleasing, perfectionism, and performance for years.

You can’t become who you want to be if you’re not honest about who you are right now. That’s exactly what those two lists gave me—an unfiltered look at both sides of the mirror.

As I looked at both lists side by side, I didn’t feel shame. I felt clarity.

The gap between them wasn’t a flaw. It was a direction.

And I had a choice to make. Keep going as I was—or finally do the work to change.

Not just for a month. Not just until I felt better. But for real this time.

The kind of change that’s uncomfortable. The kind that reworks your patterns, rewires your reflexes,
and asks you to let go of everything that no longer fits.

That moment became the foundation of my healing journey.

Awareness First, Then Change

Let me be clear: I didn’t wake up the next day and magically become that second list.

What I did was start noticing. I’d walk away from conversations and think, Ah… I interrupted people a lot again. I tried to be funny instead of real. I said yes when I meant no.

At first, that awareness was frustrating. I wanted to be further along. But eventually, I realized the win is in noticing.

What helped me most in this part of the process was journaling.

I began tracking my thoughts, my actions—even entire conversations. I’d ask myself: Was I present today? Or was I in my head? Did I try to prove something? Where did that pattern show up?

Sometimes I’d set one small focus, like “interrupt less,” and observe that for weeks. I started noticing who I felt the need to impress, when I lost presence, and what kind of people triggered those old habits. I wasn’t trying to fix it all at once—I was learning myself in real time. That awareness, day by day, became the bridge.

That’s the starting point for every real shift.

Over time, those small moments of noticing turned into different choices. I started speaking up. Setting boundaries. Sitting with my emotions instead of numbing them. Choosing presence over performance.

And little by little, I began becoming the person on the second list.

Not perfectly. Not quickly. But honestly.

What I Learned from Writing Two Lists

1. Change starts with radical honesty. You can’t grow if you’re not willing to name where you are.

2. Self-awareness is a skill, not a switch. It builds slowly. Be patient.

3. You don’t need to know the whole path. Just the direction is enough.

4. The goal isn’t perfection. It’s alignment. It’s feeling proud of who you are becoming.

If you’re in a season of unraveling, I see you. It’s disorienting. It’s uncomfortable. But it might also be the doorway to everything real.

So grab a pen. Write your lists.

Not to shame yourself, but to meet yourself.

That moment of truth might just be the moment that changes everything.

You don’t have to write your lists perfectly. You don’t even have to know what to do with them right away. Just be honest. Start where you are. Let clarity come before change—and let that be enough for now.