I’ve spent years trying to make sense of uncertainty; how it shapes our choices, how it makes us hesitate, how it keeps us awake at night asking questions no one can answer.

Nobody knows what tomorrow holds.
Still, I wish I did.

There are things from the future I’d pay anything to know today,
so I could prepare, avoid certain mistakes, or maybe take a completely different path.
I want to know who I’ll be in my thirties.
Where I’ll stand.
What I’ll have built.
Whether the version of me I’m working so hard to create will actually exist.

Uncertainty scares me, but strangely, it also fuels me.
It forces me to think.
To stretch.
To grow.
The fear of not knowing feels like madness sometimes, but it’s also what keeps me alive.
The “what ifs” push me forward even on days when motivation disappears.

I try to do the right thing, but I’m never fully sure it is the right thing.
Maybe no one ever is.
Maybe we’re all just trying things and hoping they don’t break us.
Maybe that’s why we keep seeking reassurance; some tiny signal that we’re not lost, that our steps matter, that our direction makes sense.

And then there’s the pressure.
The world’s pressure.
To achieve fast.
To climb quickly.
To chase milestones that look good on paper but rarely feel as good in real life.
To collect pleasures that fade the moment we reach them.

Sometimes I wonder:
Will all this running be worth it in the end?
Or will we look back and realize we were sprinting toward things we didn’t even truly want?

Ten years ago, I was uncertain about today.
Now I’m uncertain about the next ten.

When I look back, I see moments; some joyful, some painful, some confusing.
I still don’t know which of them truly changed me.
Maybe all of them did.
Maybe growth isn’t one big event but a collection of tiny shifts we only understand in hindsight.

Uncertainty is life itself.
It’s the space between fear and faith.
The bridge between who we are and who we might become.

And while I’m learning to embrace it, I still whisper one small wish: may the road ahead be kind, and the unknown not too heavy to carry.