There is a strange mix of emotions inside me right now.
I feel pure joy and deep pride when I look at my little girl.
But alongside that, there is an anxious flutter that I can’t quite shake. I keep wondering how life will change in just a few days, let alone years. It’s like standing at the edge of a vast, unknown ocean, both excited and nervous about the tides ahead.

You can read all the books and go to every class. You can prepare the nursery and buy all the gear. But none of that teaches you how to actually feel what being a parent means.
The anxiety, the joy, the fear, the pride, and that overwhelming love: these emotions don’t come with a manual.
They hit you suddenly and deeply. You can’t plan for them. You just have to live through them, sometimes stumbling, sometimes soaring. It’s messy and beautiful all at once.
I know time will fly. Memories will blur and slip away like sand through my fingers.
That’s why I want to hold onto every feeling, every little moment. The smiles, the tears, the small victories, and even the fears.
Sometimes I try to step back and see where I am, not just physically but emotionally.
It helps me appreciate the present instead of rushing toward the future.
I want to enjoy every single bite of this new life, even the tough parts.
In my life, I’ve felt the sting of missing out on things.
At one point, video games became a way to escape. They were more than just a hobby: they were a way out from facing reality. It was easier to lose myself in a virtual world than to deal with the pain and challenges around me.
But that escape turned into an addiction.
It wasn’t part of my life; it became a way to avoid my life. That’s a dangerous place to be.
It made me realize how important it is to face life head-on, no matter how scary or hard it seems.

Today, I spend a lot of time on the computer, but it feels very different. This time is about work, about building something real and meaningful.
It connects me to the world, to people, and to my responsibilities. It doesn’t pull me away from life; it grounds me in it.
I’ve learned that technology can be a tool, not a trap. It’s all about how you use it and what you let it mean to you. For me now, it’s part of the life I’m building, not an escape from it.
Becoming a father has opened a whole new world of feelings I never knew existed. It’s a mix of joy and fear, pride and anxiety, love and uncertainty. I’m learning to live in that mix, to embrace it without trying to control it.
Life will change in ways I can’t yet imagine.
But for now, I want to be present, to remember these moments, and to face whatever comes next with an open heart.
This is a new chapter, and I’m ready to write it one day at a time.
