“Why are you so at peace with your breakup?”
"I believe what’s meant for me will stay," he said.
It was the exact same thing my friend, someone deeply secure in her relationships, once told me.
We’re always chasing something in life, a friendship we once longed for but no longer fits, a dream job we applied to but never heard back from, a crush we reached out to who never felt the same.
The dilemma or chasing or not
I don’t know how your brain works in moments like those, my weirdo friend. Mine? It’s a full-blown debate, loud and restless, alongside the sadness and doubt.
Let me present the pro side of the argument:
What if I tried just one more time?
Should I follow up with another email?
But almost instantly, the con side jumps in:
Stop being so desperate.
Don’t simp for this person.
And just like that, I become a pendulum, swinging between reaching out and holding back, caught in the middle, never quite at rest. Because really, knowing when to try again and when to let go, it’s less a formula, more a unexplainable art.
The role of self trust and the process
Lately, I’ve realized that the key to finding balance is self-trust. It’s the belief that what’s meant for me will find its way to me—and what isn’t, no matter how hard I chase, will never truly be mine.
So often, we keep pursuing things that slip through our fingers, not because we really need them, but because we fear disappointment of ourselves or others. We don’t want to feel rejected when we poured our heart. We don’t want to be the only one left hurt, still grieving after the breakup. We don’t want to say no to disappoint our friends.
We cling to outcomes, as if they define us, forgetting the countless factors beyond our control. Sometimes, your crush just isn’t in the right season of life for someone like you. Sometimes, the company that ghosted you simply had a hiring manager who happened to find their old friend to hire, even you were the best performer.
A lot of our so-called failures aren’t really about us. They don’t always come with a logical reason. Sometimes, they just… happen. Randomly.
And that’s why trusting the process matters. Not because it guarantees the outcome we want, but because it grounds us in the belief that we’re still okay, whether things work out or not. We will sooner or later encounter more suitable option in work, life, and love.
These days, when someone doesn’t respond, I no longer spiral into self-doubt.
Instead, I take it as a quiet signal from the universe: not this path, not this person, or not right now. When a promotion doesn’t come through, I can try to see it as redirection, not rejection. Maybe it's the universe nudging me toward a new phase, a different growth I wouldn’t have chosen on my own.
Self-trust and decision making
With a mindset rooted in self-trust, anxiety slowly loses its grip.
Confidence brings clarity to my heart. Just recently, while working on an application, I realized my real challenge wasn’t the outcome but overcoming perfectionism, learning to enjoy the process rather than stressing over being perfect before the deadline. What hindered me isn’t the rejection but the self doubt after rejection. Yet, whether I get selected or not isn’t mine to control, but learning and growing through the process is. That choice is mine.
The word decision comes from the Latin decidere, which is composed of de- meaning off or away from, and caedere meaning to cut. Thus, making a decision originally implied cutting off alternative options, signifying a commitment to one chosen path. And we all need more self trust to clarify, choose, and cut rather than chase. (Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less)
What society wants doesn’t always align with what I want. I’m glad your app made a lot of money, but that’s not my reason for being here.
What your boss wants before Sunday doesn’t automatically become your priority either.
For me, I design my life intentionally, not rushing from one task to the next.
Live with audacity
I want to live with greater audacity. Do the things your heart calls you to do.
I want my life to be as thick as honey—rich, slow, and sweet. I want my decisions to be as sharp as a blade—focused, precise, and unapologetic. Losing what I don’t have isn’t the end; it’s an invitation for greater things to come.
Now, I don’t spend as much time bracing for disappointment. Instead, I feel braver, more willing to lean in, take the risk, give it my all. And because of that, I'm more at peace with whatever outcome follows. I can surrender, not out of passivity, but from knowing I showed up fully.

I lived that moment with integrity. I honored my desires without abandoning myself. I love my audacity to live fully, to show up without guarantees, and still choose to attempt, dream, and love.
Because what’s truly meant for me doesn’t need to be chased. It will find me when the time is right. Until then, I keep walking. Grounded in trust, anchored in presence, and flowing in the life unfolding in front of me.
If I’ve already done my part, if I’ve tried with honesty and heart, then why should the result define me?