Uncertainty

The desire for change is a curious thing. We often yearn for something new, something different, believing that it will bring us closer to who we’re meant to be. But in truth, change is not a destination; it’s a journey that winds through the very heart of who we are. The funny thing is, most of us resist this journey, fighting against the currents of our own nature, only to discover that the battle is both futile and necessary.

You see, I wanted something different. I could feel a restlessness within, a voice whispering that life could be more than the patterns I had settled into. So, I announced my desire, not only to the world but to the part of me that was most afraid of change. I threw myself into the struggle, seeking transformation with all the fervor I could muster. But the true contest was not against external circumstances. It was against myself—my habits, my fears, my deeply ingrained resistance to stepping into the unknown.

This battle wasn’t quick or simple. It stretched out in a seemingly endless series of rounds—twelve, then twenty-four, and then a back-and-forth that felt as if it would never conclude. Yet, in the lulls between each struggle, a profound realization began to take shape. Change, real change, doesn’t happen in a flash. It unfolds in the stillness between our efforts, where growth quietly takes root. And though the process was messy and imperfect, I noticed that I was indeed changing—mostly for the better.

But here lies the paradox. In overcoming myself, I began to wonder, “Who loses when we defeat ourselves?” This is a question that has no simple answer. For what does it mean to win or lose within the realm of self? If life is a dance rather than a fight, perhaps there is no victor, only the movement of growth, the rhythm of becoming.

One thing, however, remains clear amidst the uncertainty. I may not yet fully grasp what I want, but I do know this: I want to see where the best part of me will take me next.