There is a stack of unpaid bills I pass each morning.
They lay there unopened as I stare at them, at the dust that they collect and the space they take up on my table, and in my head.
She is so fucking beautiful, even now in her half-hearted attempt to smile while brushing her teeth. She never asks for anything, supports all that I do. She deserves the moon and everything beneath it. My biggest fear is that I will never be able to give it to her.
You can read a lot of positive books, “like” every hope-filled Instagram quote you read, but none of that shit cures the stress-induced sleepless nights.
I’d be lying if I told you the last few months have been easy.
Yet through it all, the unpaid bills, stressed out sleepless nights, and private moments of self-doubt where fear, sadness and anger make it difficult to breathe, one word keeps me here, on this path chasing this fucking dream: trust.
Trust is not some optimistic hope-filled wish.
You won’t find trust on the snooze button, or in a Netflix binge, or at the bottom of a bottle right before last call.
Trust is an unwavering belief. It’s a conviction of faith in your vision because you put in the work. It’s not taking the easy way out because suddenly shit just got real.
When it all falls apart, and believe me, it will, don’t quit.
Trust in your vision.
Trust that eventually all of your dots will connect.
Trust that no matter what happens, you are capable of figuring it out.
Take it one day at a time, and above all else, believe in your fucking self.