For you

We all crave that break—the one that comes in like a thunderstorm, loud and unforgettable. We want the thrill of it, the rush of freedom, like driving too fast down an empty road. Everyone’s waiting for it, aren’t they? That moment where we’re suddenly seen, valued, maybe even loved. But what is that really worth? Will it fill whatever hollow spaces we’ve carved out inside ourselves? Will it erase the weight of feeling like we’re constantly running away from something we can’t quite name?

I’m tired of it, the waiting, the aimless running, the chase for a kind of approval that seems impossible to reach. They say faith can move mountains, but what if I was never meant for that kind of grandeur? What if I’m just here to climb, day after day, without ever seeing the summit? Is it enough? Am I enough?

The truth is, sometimes I don’t know if I’m working hard enough, if I’m worthy of anything at all. There’s this aching desire deep inside me that just wants to be told I matter. That I’m important. That I’m loved. Maybe that’s what we’re all really chasing—the idea that someone will see us, truly see us, and think we’re enough without us having to prove it every step of the way.

I think about those moments, the ones where I feel small and afraid, the nights where loneliness creeps in so quietly that it almost feels familiar. I wonder if anyone notices. I wonder if it matters that I keep going, if my stubbornness to keep climbing means anything in the end. Because that’s all I want, really—some kind of reassurance that this life, this effort, this endless cycle of falling down and getting back up means something.

And I don’t think I’m alone in this. We all just want to be loved, don’t we? To be told that we’re worthy, that someone, somewhere cares. It’s not the fast cars or the freedom we’re after—it’s the feeling that we’re not invisible. That someone, anyone, would reach out, pick up the phone, and just tell us we’re enough as we are.

But maybe it’s not that simple. Maybe love, real love, is something you can’t ask for or chase down. Maybe it’s something you find in the smallest, quietest moments. Maybe it’s in the way you keep climbing even when you’re not sure if there’s anything waiting for you at the top.

And so we go on, tired but hopeful, yearning for something we can’t quite define, waiting for someone to tell us that we’re worthy, that we matter. Because at the end of the day, isn’t that what we all want? To be loved, to be needed, to be known. Maybe that’s the real climb. Maybe that’s where we’ll find what we’re looking for.