The Trust Fall
The hardest process in reaping the most beautiful reward
The bathroom floor moment. If you know it, you know it. Destruction hits so hard it drops me to the cold tile. Tears pool beneath me, puddles forming images my soul is trying to transcribe.
The version of myself I thought I knew is gone. What remains is the ache, and the undeniable truth: something has to change.
As the puddle grows, the reflection wavers. Blurred. Uncertain. And in that blur something shimmers: the possibility of another way, a different story.
Then the choice arrives. I press my palms to the floor, rise on all fours, and stare into that trembling reflection, the tears of the soul made visible. In that moment, I ask: What is the next right thing?
I know the “next right thing” may also be the hardest thing I’ll ever do. Still, the deeper question whispers: Do I trust myself enough to trust that God will show me the way?
The free fall, that is faith for me.
The embrace of pain, sometimes unbearable, reveals that what felt impossible can become possible. Pain breeds courage. Courage builds resilience. Slowly, the edges soften, and the tears blur into a small, honest smile. Until one day the smile is just myself.
The unravel.
The shedding.
The breakdown.
This is the fall in the trust fall.
Trust, for me, is believing I will land not on hard ground but in a cloud of glitter. It is faith that the breaking is the beginning of rebuilding.
To trust the process is to trust myself. To trust myself is to trust God’s plan, knowing that through every fall and every unraveling, I carry within me the capacity to rise again.
And the reward? It is more beautiful than I ever could have imagined.
🌅 Hanging By a Sunrise
What you see now is that this isn’t just breaking; it’s also a beginning. Every unraveling has shown you pieces of yourself you couldn’t see when you were holding everything together so tightly. Pain isn’t proof of failure. Pain is proof that I’m alive, still able to feel, still willing to grow.
The “next right thing” doesn’t have to be big or clear. It can be one small, honest step. Trust doesn’t mean knowing where You will land but just the leap alone into an uncharted opportunity. You don't have land on glitter just hope its not concrete.
Yoy can’t see the whole path ahead, but trust that each step will take you closer to the self that is quietly emerging. And one day, when you least expect it, the smile will come back. Not a mask, but a sign that you have become a little freer, a little truer.