how do you admit that you're not yet who you want to be?

i am still looking for the best words to package myself as a deliverable, because as much as i dislike the process of becoming a brand, it is something i must do. while i accept that my impact on others is minimal compared to some people around me, i imagine that there must be some way to maximize the wording of that impact. i think about who i am now and even though she is more accomplished and more independent and well-rounded and confident than the girl she was in high school, i look at myself and believe that i am someone who always as the potential -- i.e. the potential has not been accomplished yet.

what kind of professor also makes a Netflix show? do creators of shows have the resources and time to also be in academia? do i have to subscribe to a social justice movement? as much as i identify as a feminist, i do not have the drive to pursue passion projects specifically for feminism. ditto for climate movements and sustainability. even as i work to champion AAPI voices, i'm certainly not vocal enough to be considered an activist.

the truth is that no one around me is calling me crazy for having these nonlinear goals. not even my own parents. a fact i should be grateful for, since the people around me either support me or shrug their shoulders and leave me be.

i want to be the least skilled person in the room because that's how i know that i can grow far. the issue is being let in the room in the first place. how do i know that i've met the threshold of potential?

has anyone felt this before?

there's this inexplicable feeling i get sometimes. it's innocuous, like a chill that runs down my spine or a rush of sudden adrenaline, but it's disturbing enough to name. i started noticing this feeling when i was very young and i couldn't attribute an emotion to it, so i called it "pin2" in cantonese like the 片 in 麥片 (oatmeal). or the 片 in 尿片 (diaper).

i think it first arose when i was at school, specifically kindergarten in the US, when i'd be temporarily separated from my parents, and i look around the room to acknowledge that fact that nobody there really knew me, and nobody would so willingly take care of me the way my parents do. it's a pang of hollowness, of slight dread, and most definitely loneliness. those feelings returned with greater frequency when i first started college, and even though my parents were 30 minutes away, i kept experiencing this "pin2."

it comes and goes. it feels like, for few seconds, the world zones me out and i realize am truly alone. if i could depict it cinematically, the audio would fade into a tinnitus-like cry and the main character would find herself drifting untethered into an indefinite space; there are others around her, oblivious. have you felt this before? it happens when i'm in the presence of non-family members, especially in a setting where i'm in a space of perceived calmness or comfort. it happens sometimes when i am alone. i can't force myself to feel this fleeting feeling, but when i feel it, it's unmistakable.