In a world that moves faster by the day, we often feel pressured to keep up with everything around us. We set high expectations for ourselves, quick to put on a facade, hoping to achieve success quickly, whether it's in our careers, relationships, or personal growth. But there’s an important lesson many of us forget: Rome wasn't built in a day. It’s a timeless reminder that great things take time and patience. As I reflect on my own journey, I’ve come to realize how deeply this saying resonates with me. My path, like Rome’s construction, has been anything but straightforward, filled with small victories, endless setbacks, and lessons learned along the way.
I will be the first to admit that I am the type that does not like to slow down. I hate change and being vulnerable. The expectations I set for myself are typically way out of line. This mindset has made me impatient with my own progress. I expect results instantly and, when things don’t happen as I'd hope, frustration creeps in. As I sat on the phone and word vomited how I was failing, at what seems like every aspect of life, feeling like I wasn't where I wanted to be. I was quickly humbled and reminded that change, and better yet growth does not happen overnight. Why was this so hard for me to accept? I couldn't stop and remember that personal growth is a journey. It's a turtle running through peanut butter marathon and not a sprint kind of journey. No journey is without its challenges. The path for my personal growth is filled with obstacles—self-doubt, fear, unexpected detours, and moments when it feels like nothing is happening. I came to understand that challenges are not roadblocks; they are essential to the process.
These last few months have been nothing but constant change and vulnerability (more on this in a minute). It feels like I am being shaken up in snow globe that someone won't put down. Nothing settling into place. I have had some of the darkest moments of my life. Questioning my purpose, withdrawing from everything and everyone, feeling like a complete and utter failure, the list goes on. I don't say this for sympathy but say this for the raw reality that we are all fighting battles people know nothing about. I choose to be raw in my journey, because I want people to know it's ok to not be ok.
As I sat in therapy, after walking in angry at life, my therapist challenged me and said that I had been doing therapy guarded. Stuck in between the concept of fight, flight, freeze, or fawn (I highly recommend looking this up). Here I was going and talking without even realizing I was still protecting myself in the safest place I could be. She asked if I would be willing to get vulnerable. I looked at her and said vulnerability=pain. I thought of vulnerability as a weakness. It felt/still feels like I am being exposed or being put at risk. She ended my session that day with a challenge: to be vulnerable with people in my life. Like truly vulnerable with feelings. It takes courage to let down your walls and be your authentic self. It was courage I didn't think I had. I reminded myself that vulnerability, when embraced, can be a powerful tool for living a more meaningful life. That concept in itself was hard to swallow, when it felt like I was losing my meaning.
Vulnerability in the hours and days that followed was my willingness to show up and be seen, even when there were no guarantees that I would be understood. It was about being open with my emotions, my darkest thoughts, sharing fears and traumas, and allowing my people to see me in my raw and real state. It was being selective with whom I shared my most tender parts with and trusting that in doing so, l would build a foundation I needed to keep moving forward. I’ve had moments where I felt stuck, where progress seemed invisible, and where I questioned whether I was capable of being vulnerable. But looking back, it’s these moments that have shaped me the most. Every challenging conversation was an opportunity for growth, forcing me to become more resourceful, patient, and determined.
Life has quickly shown me that things don’t always unfold the way you plan. Progress has been slower than I expected, and setbacks feel like failures. I start to doubt myself, wondering where the hell I have gone wrong. I am learning to embrace the process, rather than focusing solely on the destination. Building something great takes patience, consistency, and resilience. In my own life, I am beginning to see the value of the small steps I am taking. Each day, whether it's feeling my true feelings, a relationship nurtured, or even a failure that taught me something valuable, is a brick in the foundation of my journey. I have realized that success isn’t defined by one big moment, but by the accumulation of many small, steady efforts.
I’ve embraced is that this journey is not about perfection. My journey has been messy and imperfect, but that’s where the beauty lies. The mistakes, the setbacks, and the lessons learned along the way have made me more resilient, more compassionate, and more grounded. Perfection is an illusion. What matters is that we keep moving forward, brick by brick, day by day, knowing that each effort brings us closer to where we want to be. Too often, we wait for the “big” successes to validate our efforts, but the truth is that progress happens in the small moments. Whether it’s vulnerability, a milestone reached, or simply persevering through a tough day, I’ve learned to appreciate these small victories as part of the bigger picture. The deeper the foundation you build, the more solid and lasting the results will be. Trusting the process means recognizing that not every step will be glamorous or exciting, but each one is necessary.
So, if you’re feeling frustrated with slow progress or doubting your ability to reach your goals, remember: great things take time. Trust the process, celebrate the small wins, and keep building, brick by brick. One day, you’ll look back and realize that everything you’ve worked for was worth the effort.
After all, Rome wasn’t built in a day—and neither are we.
Be Kind. Give Grace. Spread Love.
Alysia