The Messy Middle: A Journey of Trust, Uncertainty, and Embracing the Unknown

There’s this space, right in between where you’ve been and where you’re going, that feels... messy. It’s a place that no one really talks about, and maybe it’s because it’s hard to prepare for. Especially when you’ve lived a life where everything was laid out for you, and you followed the steps because that’s what was expected. But when the path stops being so clear, and you have to carve your own way, it’s not as easy as just following someone else’s blueprint.

For most of my life, I didn't have to trust myself the way I do now. I just had to follow the steps. But now? It feels like I’m trying to create those steps out of thin air, while constantly questioning if I’m even going in the right direction. It’s overwhelming, honestly. But I also know it’s where I have to be, because sometimes, the only way to grow is through uncertainty.

I’ve taken a big bet—one that has affected both my mental health and spirit for the better. I quit my job with no job lines up, no real savings, and no true back up plan. I’ve learned that it’s okay to risk what feels safe for what feels right. But here’s the thing: the financial aspect still hangs over me. That is the part that is most scary. How can you exist in this world truly without a sturdy financial foundation? For many creatives or anyone who doesn’t fit into the traditional mold, that pressure is real. The stress builds, and in those moments, it’s easy to forget that I can’t control everything. I have to trust myself, but I also have to let go. The balance is delicate and stressful. Every day I wake up excited and then within a few hours I am dreading or worried. I guess the question then really then becomes what am I doing or what am I willing to accept to test or try? I can’t let stress block my creativity, but sometimes, the pressure makes me second-guess everything.

I’ve had to teach myself that it’s okay to go in blind, to not have everything figured out. I think there is a false comfort society teaches in having things all laid out and having a detailed plan. I think it gives you a false sense of confidence and stability, but it is almost like a frog in lukewarm water, eventually you could just die. There’s no perfect way to organize a dream, and the idea of finding the “right way” is often just a trap. My mind is constantly jumping from idea to idea, and at times, that’s overwhelming. But it’s also the fuel that keeps me going. It’s the curiosity, the love for learning, the excitement to see what could happen next. It's the beauty of adaptability and constantly changing the narrative. It's also being ok with the idea that at any moment I could land right on my face.

It hasn’t been easy to trust myself, though. My brain loves to overthink, and I can get stuck in the weeds, wondering if I’m doing enough or if it’s all a mistake. But the more I act, the more I realize that action itself is the key. In so many ways it is about the momentum you build. I focus less on perfection and more on the ability to say, “I did that.” Once I’ve done something, I can step back, reflect, and improve. The process is part of the journey, and I'm learning that it’s not about rushing to the finish line but about living with intention, going slow, and accepting that I’m figuring it out as I go and a part of me will never know ahead of time if I am doing what is right.

I used to think the fear of failure would be my biggest hurdle. But, oddly enough, it’s not. What holds me back the most is the fear of success—the fear of who I must become to achieve everything I want. It’s the uncertainty of who that person is and whether I’ll ever feel ready for it. And honestly, it’s the fear that if I fail, I might not be brave enough to take another risk again. But what I’ve learned, through this messy middle, is that failure isn’t the end. It’s a lesson. A test. And when the dust settles, I’ll still pick myself up and keep going.

In this space of uncertainty, I’ve found pride in the little things—watching an idea come to life, even if it’s just seen by me or a few others. I’ve learned that the most profound moments are not always grand gestures, but the subtle ones that change lives in ways we don’t even realize. I’ve pitched visions, seen people buy in, and created opportunities for others to do their thing. I get to watch them thrive, and that’s a feeling I never take for granted.

But even with all that, there are still days when the weight of multiple dreams feels like too much. My brain constantly switches gears—one moment I’m excited, the next I’m overwhelmed. I question myself. i question who I am supposed to me. I question what each dream truly asks of me, and I question if there is a way to make this all one person or not. The pressure of balancing it all can get heavy, but I’ve also learned to embrace it. My curiosity fuels my desire to keep learning, to explore, and to keep doing the things that bring me joy. Journaling has been my anchor, and having a notebook and pen close by means I’m always ready to capture the next thought or idea. It helps me stay grounded.

So, where am I now? I’m redefining success. It’s no longer just about freedom or the external markers of achievement. Now, success is about learning who I am, wholeheartedly believing in who I can be, and giving myself permission to expand. Life is a continuous journey of figuring things out, and I’m here for it.

As I enter this next phase of life, I’m embracing my 30s with a new sense of clarity. My 20s were filled with mistakes, and honestly, a lot of uncertainty, but I’ve learned from all of it. Now, in my 30s, I’m ready to embark on a more guided journey. I have more life experience, and I’m not afraid to take risks, even when the path isn’t clear.

And here’s what I hope: When I look back at this time, I want to say I really tuned into who I was in the moment and went all in. I want to say that I took risks, lived unafraid, and grew as a person. And when the next phase comes, I want to do the same thing all over again.