‘Why am I feeling empty inside?‘ It’s as if the emotions that once colored my world—joy, excitement, even sadness—have faded, leaving me with this numbness I can’t shake.

This emptiness isn’t just sadness. It’s something quieter, more consuming. It’s waking up in the morning and feeling like there’s nothing to look forward to. It’s going through the motions of the day—eating, working, talking to people—yet still feeling disconnected, like I’m watching my life happen from a distance, unable to engage with it fully.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s because I’ve been holding everything in for so long. I’ve kept my struggles hidden, bottled up in hopes that they would disappear on their own. Maybe I thought I was strong enough to carry it all—stress, disappointments, the pressure to be perfect. But over time, those burdens piled up inside me, slowly suffocating the parts of me that used to feel alive. Now, there’s nothing left but this vast emptiness.

What’s confusing is that, on the surface, things seem fine. People might look at me and think I have it all together—my job, my relationships, my life. But they don’t see the hollow feeling gnawing away at me beneath the surface. It’s hard to admit it, even to myself. How can I explain this feeling of emptiness when there doesn’t seem to be a clear reason for it?

Maybe it’s because I’ve lost touch with what truly matters to me. In the rush of everyday life, it’s easy to forget the things that once sparked joy or gave me a sense of purpose. The dreams I used to have, the passions I once pursued—they’ve all faded into the background. I’ve been so busy chasing after the next goal, the next achievement, that I forgot to ask myself if any of it really made me happy. Now, I’m left with this void, unsure of what will fill it.

Or maybe it’s because I’ve given so much of myself to others that I’ve forgotten to nurture my own needs. I’ve poured my energy into caring for everyone around me—friends, family, work—until there was nothing left for myself. And when you give and give without replenishing your own spirit, it’s no wonder you end up feeling empty.

There are moments when I feel guilty for feeling this way, like I should be grateful for everything I have. But gratitude and emptiness can coexist. Just because I have things to be thankful for doesn’t mean I can’t also feel this deep, aching void inside. It doesn’t mean I’m ungrateful—it just means I’m human.

So what do I do with this emptiness? How do I find my way back to feeling whole again?

I think the first step is to acknowledge it. To stop pretending that everything is okay and let myself truly feel what’s inside. It’s okay to admit that I’m not okay. It’s okay to feel lost, to feel like something is missing. Ignoring it won’t make it go away.

And maybe the next step is to start asking myself the hard questions: What have I been running from? What parts of myself have I neglected? What truly brings me peace, joy, or fulfillment? These questions don’t have easy answers, but they’re a start. They’re a way to begin reconnecting with the parts of myself that I’ve been ignoring for too long.

I also know that filling this emptiness won’t happen overnight. It’s not something I can fix with a new project or a distraction. It’s going to take time, patience, and a lot of self-compassion. I’ll need to start small, maybe by rediscovering the things that once brought me joy—a hobby, time spent in nature, a conversation with a friend who truly listens. Little by little, I’ll find those pieces of myself again.

Most importantly, I’m learning that it’s okay to ask for help. This emptiness can feel so isolating, but I’m not alone in this. There are people who care about me, who would listen if I let them in. And sometimes, professional help is necessary. Speaking to a therapist about these feelings doesn’t mean I’m weak—it means I’m strong enough to seek the support I need.

I don’t have all the answers, and I’m still learning how to navigate this feeling. But I’m holding onto the hope that this emptiness isn’t permanent. It’s a part of my journey, but it doesn’t define me. I know that deep down, the fullness of life is still there, waiting for me to rediscover it. And step by step, I’ll get there. I’ll fill this void not with distractions or superficial fixes, but with the things that truly nourish my soul.

For now, I’ll be gentle with myself. I’ll give myself the grace to feel this emptiness without judgment. Because maybe, just maybe, this feeling of emptiness is the space I need to rebuild—to rediscover who I am, what I love, and what makes me feel alive again. And that’s something worth holding onto.

-With love, H.

And you tell me about your experience down below?