Lately, I've been feeling a bit lost, as though I’m moving in circles without clear direction. I thought this time would be different. I hoped for a personal transformation—shedding old habits and patterns that had held me back. But instead of growth, I find myself in a space of stagnation, unsure of where I’m headed, and frustrated with my own inability to move forward.

It’s not simply a lack of motivation; it feels deeper, like I’m drifting away from a life that once brought me purpose and fulfillment. I used to find energy in being around people, in the validation that came from kindness and attention. I was part of a world where my efforts were celebrated, where my ability to bring projects to life felt valued. I knew my strengths—organizing events, managing teams, making things happen—and it gave me confidence. But now, that sense of purpose feels distant, and I’m left facing a version of life that feels quieter, less certain, and a little more confusing.

I miss the excitement. The energy. The feeling of being part of something bigger. I long for that spark again, but I’m unsure where to find it. I feel almost embarrassed by the sadness and frustration, as though I’m waiting for something outside myself to change, yet nothing seems to shift.

But maybe what I’m seeking isn’t out there. Maybe this isn’t about finding a spark in external validation—through cameras, applause, or recognition. Perhaps this frustration is not a sign of failure, but rather a necessary and uncomfortable process of growth. Losing what once gave me confidence is hard, but I’m starting to realize it might be a necessary part of my journey.

The fire I’m longing for isn’t something I can find outside of myself. It has to come from within. And that’s a bit scary because I don’t have a clear map to get there. But maybe this period of feeling lost, this in-between space, is where I can begin to build something new. The fire may not be gone; perhaps it’s just smoldering, waiting for me to tend to it and breathe life into it again.

Transitions are difficult. They strip away the comfort of the familiar, leaving us exposed. But in that rawness, there’s an opportunity to start fresh—not by returning to what was, but by creating something that is truly mine. I’m learning that sometimes, the fire isn’t as far away as it seems—it just needs patience and a little space to reignite. I’m grateful for the opportunity to explore this new phase, to grow in ways I hadn’t expected, and to rediscover a sense of purpose, even if it doesn’t look the way I once imagined.