I started watching Forrest Gump tonight, and it hit me harder than I expected. It reminded me how often I forget how lucky I really am. We all complain about where we are, the choices we regret, the pain we carry but we forget how much worse it could be. There are people out there fighting battles we can’t imagine, people who would give anything just to walk again, to speak again, to live one more normal day. This episode isn’t about pretending life’s easy, it’s about remembering that even when it feels like we’ve lost everything, we still have more than we think.

Lately, life’s been moving too fast. Every day feels like a race, wake up early, go to the gym, work all day, pay bills, repeat. But this morning, I decided to stop running. I sat in the sun, breathed in the air, and let myself just exist for a while. Sometimes, slowing down is the hardest thing to do. It means facing your thoughts, forgiving people you love, and realizing that life isn’t about rushing to the finish line.

I’ve spent so much of my life waiting to feel ready, waiting to feel enough, waiting for the perfect moment that never comes. And every time I hesitate, life just keeps moving without me. This one’s a reminder to myself and maybe to you too: you’ll never feel ready. The fear, the doubt, the “what ifs” will always be there. But one day, you’ll look back and regret the chances you didn’t take more than the ones that scared you.

Some days it feels like I’m just sitting in the middle of a mess I can’t clean up. I’ve been trying for years to figure myself out to feel enough, to stop falling into the same holes. But no matter how many times I climb, I keep slipping back down. Lately, I’m just tired. Tired of pretending I’ve got it together, tired of chasing what’s next. But maybe this is what healing looks like, learning to sit with the quiet, accepting what’s gone wrong, and still finding the strength to keep trying again tomorrow.

Yesterday broke me a little, but it also reminded me what really matters. I messed up, I slipped, and I gave in to my old habits again. But I also got to laugh with my family, see my parents smile, and feel something real for the first time in a while. I don’t have all the answers, but I’m trying figure things one thing at a time.

It’s crazy how fast life can test you right after you tell yourself you’re ready to stay calm. One moment you feel steady, the next it’s like everything crashes at once and you’re left wondering how to start over again.

I don’t have it all figured out. Some days I’m just trying not to fall back into the same habits, trying to stay calm when everything feels messy inside. I still catch myself running from the pain, wanting to escape, but I’m learning to sit with it a little longer each time. Maybe that’s what progress really looks like, not having it together, but showing up anyway.

Sometimes the quiet days reveal the loudest truths. When there’s nothing to distract you, you start to face your thoughts: the regrets, the mistakes, the things you wish you did differently. But maybe these slow days aren’t bad at all. Maybe they’re reminders to slow down, be grateful, and realize that even in the mess, we’re still living the days we’ll one day wish we could go back to.

Sometimes the hardest part isn’t what happened, but what could’ve happened if we just took the chance. The missed moments, the fears that held us back, the chances we let slip because we thought we weren’t enough. We all carry those thoughts around, wondering how different life could be. But maybe things are supposed to happen this way.

I’m just talking through everything I used to run from. The job I didn’t take, the shame I carried for years, and how I ended up working at where I am now. For a long time, I thought I’d ruined my life, but now I’m starting to see it differently. Maybe it wasn’t a failure. Maybe this is what life is messy, unexpected, and still worth showing up for every day.