nobody warns you that your head and your body don’t get the update. i left istanbul with my life in two suitcases and genuinely believed i’d unpack as a calmer person. i thought the sea would do something. instead the stress packed itself and came along, and it did not get jet lag.
for a long time i took that as evidence i’d done it wrong. like there was a correct version of this where you hit the number and the feeling arrives on schedule, and mine had gone missing in the post.
then it got quieter. not gone, i’m not a robot. quiet enough that i could hear myself think, which i hadn’t managed in years. and underneath all of it was a person i’d stopped checking in on. things i used to like. opinions about stuff that has nothing to do with work. a sense of humour that isn’t just being quick.
some days i actually recognise her.
nobody puts this on a slide. the goals don’t come with the feeling attached. you hit the number, and then you find out what it cost to get there, and the invoice always arrives late.
building a business while you’re also trying to undo the thing that built the business is genuinely confusing. work, life, the people you love, and underneath all of it this slow project of convincing your own body that it’s allowed to stop. it knocks you around. it also shows you what’s actually in there.
so if you’re hitting your numbers and everyone is delighted for you and you feel oddly lost about it: you’re not failing at this. you’re finding out that surviving and living are two different skills, and nobody taught you the second one.
no trophy for it either. just the day, and then the next one.
i’m still in it. that might be the whole point.
eda x
