Trust Doesn't Always Start with a Plan

What I really needed wasn’t a perfect plan, it was an unshakable relationship with myself.

Ten years ago, I navigated a complete life reorganization. A loss in my family set off a domino effect — I ended a relationship, left a job, and moved out of a city I thought I’d call home for decades.

What followed was years of trying harder and harder to create certainty — trying to find a new plan, a new identity, a new sense of place—to put the pieces back together the way I thought they were supposed to go.

And yet, through all of my external efforts towards what I thought I should be doing, something softer was unfolding that ended up being exactly what I needed: I got out of my own way and started writing and sharing poetry. I let go of perfectionism and comparison and readiness and began nurturing the seed of inspiration that had always lived in my heart — the desire to create something honest and beautiful out of my ideas.

It wasn’t a business plan. It wasn’t a big vision for my career. It was simply the urge to honor what was alive in me — to see what I could create for the joy and the process of it, no matter the outcome.

So I did. And that's when the freedom and possibility (and career) I was trying so hard to create became available.

I had doubts. I had questions. I had no idea if any of it would “work.”

But I kept going anyway. Because the impulse to create something was stronger than my need for it to fit into a plan for how I thought my life should look.

Around that time, I hired a coach — not because I wanted to become a professional writer, but because the urge to write was loud and I wanted to take it seriously. I wanted to feel what it felt like to invest in my art — and to be held in the process of creating something that mattered to me.

In one of those coaching sessions, I wrote something I’ve carried with me ever since:

‘Life,’ generally speaking, isn’t always trustworthy. It can let you down, spin you around, and take its sweet time making any sense at all.

But learning to trust in life isn’t about a passive leap of faith, it’s about practicing trust in yourself.

Through action. Through courage. Through showing up again and again, even in the unknown.

Do this, and trust will follow. The real kind. The unshakable kind.

The kind that lets you look out at the beauty and rawness of it all, out your hand on your heart and feel something solid pulsing back at you and say:

“Yeah… this is something I can trust."

That’s exactly what I was practicing: not a perfect plan, but an unshakable relationship with myself. A life that could — and has — redirected me at any moment, and a belief that I could not only weather the storms… but create meaning and beauty on the other side.

This doesn’t just apply to creativity. It’s a deeper way of living — one where you’re no longer clinging to certainty outside of you, but building a foundation of trust through your own voice and values. From that place, you gain the freedom to change your mind, to move, to walk away, to walk through doors you never imagined would open.

I never felt fully ready or like it was the best time to say yes to my ideas, but I always listened to that quiet pull—because that pull was my aliveness calling.

This is the part no one tells you: The real work of bringing an idea to life isn’t just execution. It’s becoming the person who believes they’re allowed to.

It’s believing in your capability — and in the value of building a relationship with yourself and your ideas, then sharing that with the world in a way only you can.

Now I help others do the same.
My 1:1 mentorship, Life on Purpose, is for people navigating transitions, sitting on creative ideas, or longing to live in alignment with their deeper values.

If something’s been tugging at you — an idea, a shift, a desire to start — you don’t need to be “ready.” You just need to stop waiting for permission. You can apply here

Ask yourself:

What if I let go of needing to do things right, prove myself, or put pressure on my ideas to come out perfectly? What would it feel like to say yes to my ideas out of the pure joy of it? From a place of curiosity for what's possible?


SUBSCRIBE

For inspiration, research, and realistic tips about how we can replace productivity, pace, and perfection with joy, balance, and creativity for a meaningful, purpose-filled life.

Step out of the noise. Step into what matters.

Next
Next

You do not need to white-knuckle your growth