When Life Feels Uncertain (And No One Talks About It)
It’s no secret we’re living through unpredictable times. On a macro level, the housing market feels like it’s waiting for permission to breathe again, the job market is a maze, AI is evolving faster than everyone can emotionally process, and a lot of people are wondering how they’re going to afford their next month of bills, let alone build the life they actually want.
With challenge usually comes opportunity — at least, that’s what we’ve always been told.
But what happens when those opportunities are also uncertain?
Or don’t show up when you need them most?
As the holidays approach, we’re encouraged to reflect on the year, to express gratitude, to find the silver lining. And while many people want to… it feels tougher this year. Heavier. More layered. More like the universe is whispering, “I know you’re tired, but keep going.”
Sometimes it feels like everything is being recalibrated… shaken up… stretched… not to punish us, but to reveal what can’t come with us into the next chapter.
It’s uncomfortable.
It’s humbling.
But it might also be necessary.
The Moment I Realized I Needed a Reset
I’ve dealt with anxiety and depression for years — but I’ve also gotten good at performing like everything is fine. You wouldn’t always know from my content.
I was functioning.
Smiling.
Editing videos.
Posting.
Responding.
Acting okay.
Until suddenly, I wasn’t.
The day I left corporate, everything I had stuffed down — stress, pressure, perfectionism, burnout — collided at once. I had a full-on breakdown. The kind you don’t forget. The kind that shakes something loose in you.
And that scared me.
I didn’t want to admit how bad things had gotten.
I didn’t want to accept that my body was screaming for help while I kept pushing.
But that moment — as terrifying as it was — forced honesty.
Forced stillness.
Forced me to acknowledge what I’d been avoiding for months.
I realized I was avoiding the quiet… because I knew the quiet would tell me the truth.
It felt uncomfortable, but necessary.
That breakdown became the moment I stopped living in survival mode and admitted:
I needed a reset — mentally, emotionally, spiritually, everything.
And oddly enough, that’s where everything began to shift.
What We Get Wrong About Resetting
I get why people scroll endlessly.
Sometimes escape feels easier than facing the pile of emotions, decisions, and fears sitting in the corner of your mind, waiting for eye contact.
But here’s what surprised me:
Resetting isn’t about becoming a new version of yourself.It’s about coming back to the version you abandoned.
We think a reset needs to be pretty.
Curated.
Structured.
A fresh aesthetic, a color-coded planner, a candle-lit everything-will-be-okay moment.
Sometimes the real reset is messy.
Silent.
Awkward.
Lonely.
And nothing like the aesthetic glow-ups we see online.
The truth is:
People don’t struggle to reset because they lack discipline —
They struggle because resetting requires belief before evidence.
It requires trusting a reality you haven’t lived yet.
And sometimes… that feels impossible.
But small internal shifts count.
Tiny choices count.
Choosing not to spiral counts.
Taking one breath before reacting counts.
Being honest with yourself counts.
Resetting starts in the quiet moments, not the cinematic ones.
The Small Things That Helped Me Find Clarity Again
This is what actually helped me — nothing fancy, nothing “guru,” nothing perfect:
1. Writing things down
Lately I’ve been learning more about scripture on my own, and one line that keeps finding me is:
“Write the vision and make it plain.”
I don’t claim to have it fully interpreted, but the simplicity resonates.
Writing makes things real.
Writing forces you to see your thoughts for what they are — not what your anxiety tells you they are.
Try this:
Write down one thing you want clarity on today.
Just one.
Don’t overthink it.
2. Meditation (the real kind, not the aesthetic kind)
I journal first — dump everything out — then I meditate.
Not in lotus pose on a mountain.
More like:
deep breaths, unclenching my jaw, letting my shoulders drop, and finally giving myself a moment to breathe.
And honestly?
My nervous system needed that more than anything.
Try this:
Put a hand on your chest for 10 seconds.
Inhale through your nose.
Exhale slowly.
Let your body know you’re not in danger.
3. Visualizing the version of me I’m becoming
This isn’t manifestation in the “say it once and it appears” way.
It’s embodiment.
It’s preparation.
It’s deciding to show up differently because the future you is asking for it.
And when you do it consistently — even for five minutes — things begin to align.
What This Season Is Teaching Me About Being Human
Being human is… a lot.
We’re complex, emotional, ever-changing beings trying to make sense of a world that’s moving faster than any of us can process.
But here’s the part I didn’t expect:
Growth doesn’t always feel like growth.
Sometimes it feels like loss.
Like confusion.
Like discomfort.
Like letting go of versions of yourself you outgrew but haven’t mourned yet.
This season is teaching me to:
- rest before I crash
- listen before I overthink
- be gentle before I judge
- slow down before I spiral
- remember I’m a human, not a brand or a performer
And accepting, that's enough.
Why I Created the Reset Lab Journal
My mind holds a lot.
Ideas, dreams, worries, visions, fears, clarity, confusion — all at once.
If I don’t put them somewhere, they stack.
They become noise.
I needed a grounding space — something structured but gentle.
Something that didn’t force toxic positivity.
Something that didn’t rush my healing.
Something that met me where I was.
So I created The Reset Lab Journal.
The prompts inside are the exact questions I asked myself during my reset — the ones that helped me shift my energy, my habits, my mindset, my nervous system.
Questions like:
“What boundary am I ready to reinforce?”
and
“How would I show up if my days were designed with my energy in mind?”
Not to dwell.
Not to shame.
But to direct.
To clarify.
To gently guide.
This journal wasn’t born out of theory.
It was born out of lived experience — the messy kind that doesn’t make the highlight reel.
And if you’re in your own season of uncertainty, maybe this gives you the space to finally breathe again.
Your reset doesn’t have to be pretty.
Or perfect.
Or fast.
It just has to begin.
If you’re in your own season of uncertainty, and you want a grounding space to slow down, reflect, and breathe again — I created something that might help.
✨ The Reset Lab Journal
A guided journal designed to support clarity, self-trust, and emotional reset — gently, honestly, at your own pace.
If it calls to you, you can explore it here:
