Straight From The Heart.

 

 So the thing is, my story is quite a pathetic one: you'll get irritated by my action, and that's quite understandable, but make sure you don't repeat it after reading this.

 

I started this journey to success, seduced by a finish line I saw on social media, the instant success, beautiful cars, flawless lives. All those influencers did was post beautiful pictures of themselves on a Rolls Royce, painting a perfect picture of success in one day.

 

And I believed them. I wanted to be like them. To have the perfect life like them. I believed the fantasy, so I set out to win or better still, I set out to wander. I wandered for years. You don't "set out" for a mirage—you wander. And for years, that's all I did.

 

I was a wanderer, looking for where to anchor myself. Trying to fit in anywhere as long as I got the results they had, but only to discover that it doesn't work that way. There was work to do. Real work. The kind that doesn't photograph well.

 

"I don't like stress, nobody should stress me!" I screamed at my friend. The guy was just being inconsiderate. How could he tell me to save up ₦15,000 to apply for a course on Udemy, money I could use to treat myself to a meal at LoungeThirty8? At least I'd be able to post pictures of myself and upload them on social media so the world could know I was also enjoying the big life.

 

I refused to apply for the course. Instead, I continued wandering. I wandered till five years of my life passed me by. I wandered till I couldn't afford the fake life I was living. I wandered till the filters stopped working and the mirrors started telling the truth. Men and brethren, I wandered.

 

Five years. Let that sink in. Five years of chasing what glitters instead of what grows. Five years of choosing validation over value, applause over application.

 

But by God's grace, I'm here. Alive and kicking. Wiser and willing.

 

I don't care whether the beautiful pictures of the influencers were fake or real, I still owe myself success. Not the kind that lives on a screen, but the kind that thrives in silence where it's just you alone without the applause.

 

Slowly, I'm climbing the ladder. I'm taking the steps gently and I'm proud of my baby steps. Don't think you'll meet me at the same spot, because I would have long passed it by.

 

The wandering years taught me this: there are no shortcuts to places worth going. There's just the work and the work doesn't care about your Instagram aesthetic, it cares about your commitment when the camera's off and there's no applause.

 

So here I am, finally setting out for real. No more wandering. No more mirages. Just one step, then another, then another and if you're still wandering, I pray you find your way home sooner than I did. Because five years is a long time to chase someone else's highlight reel while your own life waits in the shadows.

 

The ladder is right there. It's always been there. We just have to be willing to climb it.