After the Applause

This isn’t the pretty part of the journey, but it’s the part that’s shaping me the most.

I’ve always carried it quietly, this weight to figure things out, to keep building, to make the right decisions even when I have no idea what the “right” one is.

Life has become so serious lately. Like there’s no room for mistakes, no time for rest, just the constant, quiet reminder that you have to “keep going.”

No one talks about what happens after the show is over. After the applause fades and the lights go out. When you’ve created something beautiful, stood in your purpose, and then suddenly, it’s just quiet. No spotlight, no momentum, just you, your thoughts, and the pressure to do it all over again.

This is the part where I tend to overthink; where I question everything; where I wrestle with doubt but still have to lead, still have to create, still have to show up. 

But here’s what I’m realizing:
This dark, quiet space, it isn’t the end. It’s the in-between, the sacred middle, the part where the next version of me is being shaped.

No one prepares you for this stretch, the part where your faith gets tested behind closed doors; the part where rest feels like weakness; the part where you start wondering if you’ve lost your fire, when really, it’s just being refined.

So if you’re here too, feeling the weight of what you’re carrying, trying to find your footing between moments of “arrival,” I see you.

You’re not behind. You’re just in the middle,
and that middle is sacred ground.

Let’s normalize talking about this part, the real grind, the quiet struggle, the mental and emotional cost of chasing something meaningful.

You’re not alone in it. I’m walking through it too. Still building. Still believing.