You know that moment when you’re mid-rant about someone who’s done you dirty—ghosted, gaslit, or just generally proven themselves to be a human red flag factory—and you suddenly hear yourself saying, “I mean, they had a tough childhood,” or “They’re just bad at texting,” or my personal favorite, “They’re going through a lot right now”? And before you know it, you’re basically defending them against yourself.

Okay, real talk. Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you’ve agreed to do something—anything—only to immediately regret it? Like, it could be as innocent as attending a party you really didn’t want to go to, or as soul-sucking as helping your friend move apartments on the weekend (we all know that's just code for "you're gonna lift a lot of heavy boxes while they pretend to organize their laundry"). We’ve all been there, caught in the vortex of “Why did I say yes?” But here’s the kicker: it’s not your fault.

You know that feeling when you meticulously plan your day—your to-do list is color-coded, your calendar has no blank spaces, and your coffee order is down to a science—only for life to casually roll up and say, “Oh, that’s cute. Watch this.” Maybe your boss throws a last-minute deadline at you, your WiFi dies mid-Zoom call, or a bird with unshakable confidence steals your sandwich. Whatever the chaos, one thing is clear: the universe does not care about your need for control.

Ever noticed how people suddenly realize your worth the second you decide to walk away? How your ex only remembers your "warmth" after you've blocked them? How that company that paid you in "we're like a family" slogans suddenly has a budget for your replacement? Yeah, it's a thing. But don’t worry, it’s not just you. Turns out, this whole “valuing things only when they’re gone” is an age-old problem—so ancient, in fact, that the Bhagavad Gita had it figured out long before your situationship did.

Spoiler Alert: If you thought life’s a game of chance where your destiny’s decided by the roll of the dice or a lucky pair of jeans that just happen to fit, you’re about to have your mind blown by Krishna. And no, not the guy you met at a party once who talked about meditation for four hours. The real Krishna, the one who turned the Bhagavad Gita into a must-read for anyone who’s ever questioned their purpose in life (aka everyone).

So, you’re heartbroken. Maybe life snatched away your favorite person, and now everything feels like a sad indie film where it’s always raining and someone’s whispering poetic nonsense about time being a thief. Maybe it was a relationship breakup, a tragic loss, or just one of those slow-burn goodbyes that sting more than a straight-up ghosting. Either way, you’re left staring at the ceiling, asking, Why?—like you’re the lead in a Hollywood tearjerker.

You ever have one of those days where your brain turns into a particularly mean talk show host? The kind that reminds you, with relentless enthusiasm, of everything you haven’t accomplished yet? "Oh, you’re still single? Fascinating. Haven’t written that bestseller? Intriguing. Still eating instant noodles for dinner? Love that for you."

People change. It’s one of those annoying truths we all pretend we’re okay with. Like, yes, of course, people evolve. Growth is beautiful, self-improvement is inspiring, and all that jazz. But deep down, aren’t we all a little bitter when someone we thought we knew becomes... someone else? That best friend who suddenly doesn’t text back as fast. That partner who, out of nowhere, starts using phrases like "needing space." That boss who used to be chill but now micromanages you like a reality show villain.

So, here's the deal: no matter how many times we hit "refresh" on our phones, scroll through Instagram, or flip through Netflix, it always feels like there’s something more we need to do, see, or have. You know what I'm talking about. We’re constantly searching for the next “big thing” that will fix everything. Whether it’s the new gadget, the perfect selfie, or that mysterious ‘vacation glow’ everyone seems to be talking about—it's like we’re all on a never-ending quest for the next dopamine hit.

So, here you are, scrolling through life with your best “I’m doing fine” face on, when suddenly, bam, it hits you: nobody values you. It’s like being the last piece of pizza at a party—you know you’re valuable, but no one’s coming for you. And don’t even get me started on the inner monologue that starts, “What’s wrong with me?” Spoiler alert: nothing’s wrong with you, but don’t take my word for it. Let’s talk about some seriously ancient advice that’s still relevant today: the Bhagavad Gita.