These days, I feel like I’m trying everything there is to try, only to come up empty. All the effort, all the energy I pour into all the work that I do, it’s starting to feel like it’s all for nothing. It’s not just making me sad, it’s also making me angry, frustrated. It’s making me question my abilities. Am I just fooling myself in this crazy pursuit? Or should I just keep pushing forward? It’s making me seriously contemplate if I should quit altogether. The only reason I’ve made it this far is because of a younger version of myself. That bright-eyed, innocent girl who dared to dream bigger than anyone around her. She saw a radiant future ahead of her, believing the world was hers to explore. She stood at the starting line, unaware of the rejections and setbacks waiting quietly down the road. Nothing felt impossible, then. Now, it seems like nothing is possible. There’s no manual for this kind of uncertainty. Should I keep going? Or should I just turn back? There’s no clear signposts that tells me which way to go. All I have is my gut instinct, the same quiet voice that’s gotten me this far. But I keep wondering, how long do I have to be in this limbo? How long do I have to keep investing my time, heart and hope before I finally see something bloom? There’s a saying that it’s like planting a seed: the more you water it, nurture it, speak life into it, the more it will eventually give back. But what they never tell you is how long the seed takes to sprout, or if it will sprout at all. For all we know, it could take days, months and years. The silence in the meantime, is what wears us down. And here’s the thing, I’m not the most patient person. Waiting feels like standing in the midst of a fog, not knowing I’m facing a dead-end or if the path ahead even exists. But maybe that’s part of the story too. Maybe patience isn’t about waiting. Maybe it’s about learning to trust the invisible work happening beneath the surface. Roots growing where no one can see. Shifts unfolding slowly, quietly, only I didn’t know yet. Maybe the hardest part isn’t the waiting, it’s holding on to the belief in the dark. Believing in yourself, in your path, in the idea that what you’re building matters, even when the proof is not there yet. That version of me, who started all this, the one who dreamed without limits, certainly didn’t know what was coming, but she gave me something precious: the courage to begin, to dream big. And right now, that’s still worth something. So I’ll keep tending to the seed, even if I can’t see the sprout yet. I’ll keep listening to that quiet voice, shaky as it may be. What have I got to lose anyway? I would rather try hard than never try at all. Because maybe the point isn’t to always know where I’m going, but to stay soft, stay open. And keep on trying. Sincerely, Cherie. The Whiffler is free today. But if you enjoyed this post, you can tell The Whiffler that their writing is valuable by pledging a future subscription. You won't be charged unless they enable payments.
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Friday, 13 June 2025
The Weight of the Wait
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