It’s okay.

It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to be depressed. It’s okay to be unproductive. It’s okay not to hustle all the time. It’s okay to be lazy.

It’s okay not to love broccoli. It’s okay to have breakfast at 4 PM. It’s okay to eat peanut butter sandwiches for dinner, lunch, and breakfast. It’s okay to not have breakfast at all. (It’s even okay to write ‘dinner, lunch, breakfast’, instead of ‘breakfast, lunch, and dinner’, simply because you feel like it.)

It’s okay to want to binge-watch a whole season of Rick and Morty. It’s okay to want to drink a glass of wine on a Tuesday at 2 PM. It’s okay to not want to hang out with other people. It’s okay to miss out on popular things. It’s okay not to be at the center of everything.

It’s okay not to be a millionaire by 25. Or 30. Or 40. Or ever.

It’s okay to read what you like. It’s okay to watch what you like. It’s okay to like what you like. It’s okay to dislike what you don’t like.

It’s okay if what you like is not cool, popular, productive, or efficient anyhow.

It’s okay if what you do for a living is ‘weird’ to some people. It’s okay if what you feel like doing every day for eternity is something that doesn’t necessarily make a lot of money or impact.

It’s okay if you don’t change the world.

It’s okay to be yourself. It’s okay to not fit in. It’s even okay not to want to fit in.