Tag: love

Feelings & Fire, messy progress, Reflection

When Surviving Feels Like Failing

Mindrah

Life.
Sometimes life just… sucks.

If you’re anything like me, you’ve got a million ideas swirling in your head. You want to do them all. You want them done yesterday. But then life gets in the way.

For me, it was a week of study visits, followed by a week of high-stress assignments and deadlines. It feels like forever since I touched the things I actually wanted to do. Instead of thriving, I’ve just been surviving.

And I hate surviving.

I created Ash & Ember Rising because I didn’t want to just get through life — I wanted to live it. Intentionally. Fully. Passionately. I want to do all the things. Ten-people’s worth of things, if I’m honest. And of course, that’s impossible… but still, I expect it of myself.

Which means sometimes it’s hard to match my wants, my wild expectations, with reality.

What happens when reality wins?

So what do you do when life doesn’t match the plan?
When deadlines eat your days, or stress fogs your brain, or you just can’t do the things you hoped you would?

You could walk away.
You could decide it isn’t worth it.
You could label it failure.

But here’s the truth:

Just because something didn’t happen the way you wanted or expected doesn’t make it worthless.
It doesn’t make you worthless.

It makes you human.

Still here. Still trying.

I didn’t finish everything I wanted. Some things didn’t happen at all. But I’m still here.

Still caring.
Still showing up.
Still trying, even when it’s messy.

And maybe,

sometimes,

that’s enough.

From surviving to rising

Ash & Ember Rising has always been about this: turning the sparks we have left, even when everything feels burnt out, into steps forward.

So if you’re here, tired, behind, feeling like you’ve lost the thread of your own story — know this:

You’re not failing.
You’re still becoming.
And you’re allowed to start again, as many times as it takes.

Because surviving is not the end of your story. It’s just the messy middle. And the ember is still glowing.

Feelings & Fire, Reflection

The Stories We Carry (And Rewrite)

Mindrah

This week I want to talk to you about stories.
Stories we tell ourselves.
And stories other people tell about us.

You see, my family tells a lot of stories about me.
They say I’m fat, and therefore I must be unfit.
They say I never exercise, which reinforces their belief that I don’t care about my health.
They say I never go outside.
They say I don’t care about them.

I don’t share this for sympathy. I share it because it bothers me and because deep down, I know it’s not true.
And yet, hearing the same story enough times can start to plant roots. You begin to wonder: What if they’re right?

But here’s the reality:
I’ve lost over 40kg.
I did that by waking up before dawn, walking most days, and showing up for myself even when it was hard.
I walk outside. I leave the house five days a week for work.
I studied full-time while working full-time because I care deeply about building a better future.
And even when exhausted, I still showed up for my family. I called. I checked in. I listened. I made time.

Imagine if I had listened to their version of my story.
Imagine if I believed them.
Worse, imagine if I started telling myself those same things.

If I had, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be healthier, stronger, halfway through a Master’s degree, or learning how to rebuild when life suddenly veers off course.

This morning, everything feels a bit broken. My plans have unraveled. My path feels uncertain.
But instead of saying, “I can’t do this,” I’ve been drafting a new game plan.
A new story.

And now I’m wondering about you.

What stories are being told about you, by others, or by yourself, that need to be rewritten?
What falsehoods have been repeated so often they started to feel like truth?

Because me? I think you’ve got this.
You’re still becoming.
You’re still growing.

Remember the power of yet.
And write yourself a story worth living in.

Feelings & Fire, Reflection

Choosing Yourself Isn’t Giving Up

Mindrah

Since I first created the Ash & Ember Rising blog, I’ve posted every Monday like clockwork.
But this week Monday came and went… and I didn’t post.
I didn’t plan to skip it. I didn’t battle with it.
I simply… forgot.

Why?

Because life got heavier.

I took on a fuller load at work — just for two weeks, and yes, I can handle it, and yes, it is needed. But it’s more work, which means more stress.
I have three major assignments due at the end of those same two weeks.
And then I got sick.
And I’m tired.
And I’ve been really, truly, just surviving.

The kind of surviving where brushing your teeth feels like a quest.
Where hydration becomes an achievement.
Where your body wants to stop — but your deadlines don’t.

So hello, overwhelm.
And welcome, guilt.

Guilt?
Yep. He showed up loud and dramatic, like always.

Because I missed a blog post.
And the perfectionist in me? The completionist in me?
They’re spiraling.

“This is the end!”
“You failed!”
“You gave up!”
“You didn’t finish the thing — so now it doesn’t count!”

That’s what they think.

But I know better.

Choosing Yourself Isn’t Giving Up

I know that during these two weeks, I’m going to have to choose.
I’m going to have to let things go.
Not because I’m lazy. Not because I’m weak. But because I matter.

And moving past survival — into something resembling stability — means being intentional.
It means choosing what to spend time and energy on.
Because if I try to do it all anyway?

Then I’m not choosing growth.
I’m choosing misery.
And I deserve better than that.

We’re Taught to Burn Ourselves Alive

We are taught — over and over — that we must juggle a hundred things.
Flawlessly.
Without pause.
Even when we’re sick.

But that’s not care. That’s collapse.

Choosing yourself is hard.
It feels rebellious. Shameful. Lazy.
But it’s not.

It’s what lets you keep going.
It’s what lets you come back.

Missing a blog post doesn’t mean my dream is dead.
It just means I’m choosing to live long enough to carry it forward.

A Reminder, For You (and Me)

My dreams will still be there when I feel better.
They’ll still be there when I have time.
They are not made of glass.

That email isn’t going to explode if you don’t answer it today.
Those dishes will still be there tomorrow.
Your work? Will probably thank you for showing up rested, not wrecked.

You don’t have to do it all.

You just have to choose.
Choose your health.
Choose your peace.
Choose you.

Even when it’s hard.
Especially when it’s hard.