I woke up today the way I do most mornings lately — not quite sure of my plans. Like I’m walking through life without a map. I’m not drowning, but I’m suspended without assurance of when I’ll land.
My alarm rang at 5 a.m., and I spent another twenty minutes just staring into space. I wasn’t sleepy, but I still didn’t want to wake up. Do you understand that confusion? I was just there trying to figure out whether I’m a woman who is beginning life, or a woman who has wasted so many chances but is yet to know. The silence before you wake up is actually the loudest moment of the morning.
The sun was already shining, and I somehow envied it because it never asks itself, “Do I have to rise today?”
I woke up with 50% confidence, brushed my teeth and took a bath on autopilot, and somehow felt overwhelmed by the decisions waiting for me today. What needs to be responded to? What should be ignored? Who should I shut out? What should I purchase? Which dream is still worth fighting for? What do I need to postpone?
I scrolled through the messages on my phone — some I responded to, some I didn’t. It depends on urgency. These messages can sometimes hold a clue to where life is heading… or where it might collapse. Every morning lately feels like the beginning of something incredible, or the beginning of something disappointing.
Some mornings I’m sure of where life is headed. Some mornings are just for rearranging hope, trying to make everything messy appear pretty.
This morning… I couldn’t tell which one it was.
I made tea, stood by the balcony, and asked myself: “What exactly is supposed to happen today?”
The truth is, we’re all pretending to know what we’re doing. We just don’t say it out loud enough that we feel lost.
We promise ourselves we’ll stick to our plans. We make to-do lists. We swear everything will work out — but deep down — we’re not fully sure of the direction.
The plain truth is that some days are just for survival.
On some days, not breaking down is the achievement. Just waking up and not giving up is already an accomplishment.
To be brutally honest, there are days I don’t have strength. I just keep moving because I know stopping might make things worse. So I pat myself on the back and whisper, “Keep going.”
The hardest part of adulting — the part we were never told — is that life doesn’t guarantee you anything by default. You don’t get answers simply because you’re honest. You don’t get rewarded simply because you’re a good person. You take a step believing or hoping it’s the step in the right direction.
Some days I’m the one giving advice. Other days… I’m the one needing advice while crying in the bathroom.
Both versions are true.
Today feels like that day.
I don’t know who will talk to me. I don’t know who will wait for me. I don’t know if the doors I knock on will open. I don’t know if the opportunities I’m chasing will reward me. I don’t know which prayers will be answered. And I don’t know what news will come.
But even in the midst of confusion, there is a tiny voice in me whispering:
“Let’s try anyway.”
I don’t know if it’s hope or strength, but I know whatever it is, it keeps me going. It keeps me standing, sipping my tea, smiling softly into the morning, and stepping into the day even though nothing is guaranteed.
Today is unclear.
But here I am, walking forward, and hoping something will make sense along the way.