Why I Still Believe That Good Things Are Coming

Every time I think about, let alone say, ‘I feel like something good is about to happen’, life says bet, and responds with the most random bouts of sadness, an unexpected emotional breakdown at 11:43 pm (which makes you wonder why you’re not asleep yet), a rejection email from a client you didn’t think had the ability to say no, or the impeding doom of your existence.   

And yet, in the midst of the murkiness, I am a prisoner of hope; I still believe good things are coming. 

And this is not in a ‘manifesting while ignoring reality’ thing. I mean, a quieter kind of hope that can survive any disappointment; the kind that still wakes up, makes tea, updates the CV again, replies to emails, and keeps going even when life is suspiciously quiet. 

Because if there’s one thing adulthood has taught me, it’s that life rarely looks how we imagined it would. If it did, then the journey would be boring, no? 

No lessons, no adversity, no villain arcs, all of which make us, us. 

At this age, I honestly thought I would have everything figured out. A stable career. Clear skin. Maybe a standalone house with aesthetic lighting and matching curtains.

Instead, I overthink, I have anxiety, 100 browser tabs open, and a habit of checking my phone every two seconds like it owes me money. 

But, somewhere between all the uncertainty, delayed plans, life-changing character development seasons, and, of course, the awkward ‘so, what are you doing these days?’ conversations, I’ve realized something important. 

Good things don’t always arrive loudly; sometimes, they arrive coated in growth as: redirection, people who choose to stay, opportunities you almost missed because they didn’t look exciting at first, and as becoming stronger, softer, wiser, and more yourself.

I think as human beings, we severely underestimate how much courage it takes to remain hopeful when life doesn’t go as perfectly as we planned it to. This is especially true in a world where everyone seems to have hit milestones before you’ve fully defrosted to handle the issues of the day. 

While someone is traveling to Santorini or getting a ridiculously expensive apartment, you’re trying to figure out whether your bank account is laughing at you or crying with you. 

It’s easy to feel behind; it’s even easier to make yourself guilty for not doing ‘enough’ when you don’t know the enough that you should be doing in the first place. 

But lately, I’ve been learning that life isn’t a race. It’s deeply personal, and sometimes, the seasons that feel slow are actually building something meaningful in us. 

I used to think that hope came from being certain about stuff. Now, I think hope is choosing to believe anyway, no matter what.

Believing that your efforts matter.

Believing that one day things will make sense. 

Believing that not getting what you wanted immediately when you wanted it doesn’t mean that your story is over.

And honestly? Some of the best things in my life happened after seasons that felt confusing; the friends I made unexpectedly, the opportunities I never planned for, the growth I didn’t even notice until I looked back and realized I was handling situations differently. 

After all, life has a strange way of surprising us. 

Some days are magical and filled with hit after hit; other days are just you staring at your laptop pretending to work while internally, you’re fighting for your life. 

Some seasons are abundant; other seasons are repetitive, exhausting, and even if you pray, plan, try your best, and do everything else, you still feel stuck.

There’s beauty though - in continuing to believe that tomorrow could be better. 

Not Perfect, Not Easy, Just Better. Maybe this is what hope really is. 

Not denying reality, but refusing to let hard moments and seasons convince you that good things no longer exist. 

So yes, I still believe good things are coming. 

I believe there are spaces we haven’t walked into yet, people we haven’t met yet, versions of ourselves we haven’t fully discovered yet. I also believe that growth can be uncomfortable and beautiful at the same time. 

And maybe most importantly, I believe we deserve to experience joy without constantly waiting for something bad to happen afterward.

So, if your life feels uncertain, disappointing, or painfully slow, this is your reminder - and mine too tbh - that not all progress is visible immediately. 

Some things grow quietly, and one day, you’ll look back at this version of yourself with a lot of compassion. You’ll realize that you were doing better than you thought. 

But until then, keep going, keep laughing, keep trying, keep resting when you need to, keep believing…

Good things are still coming!