I’m writing this from the Red Sea, somewhere between islands in Egypt.
I’m on a week-long kitesurfing safari with 50 people — the kind of experience that sounds wild and magical (and it is).
Windy mornings, workshops, golden sunsets, open sea.
Before the trip, I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to kitesurf.
I knew there were other things happening on the boat, and honestly, I signed up mostly because it felt like the “main thing.”
The reason everyone else was here.
So I told myself I’d give it a try — I even took the beginner’s course. I had done kitesurfing years ago, but I didn’t really remember how it felt.
I figured: maybe this time it’ll click.
The first day was hard — physically and emotionally.
And not just the kind of hard that challenges you — the kind that makes you feel off deep in your gut.
I told myself, “It’s always hard at the beginning.”
But the next morning, I woke up and couldn’t shake the heaviness.
I didn’t want to get out of bed. Not because I was tired, but because I really, truly didn’t want to do it again.
It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t laziness. It felt like emptiness.
Like my body was saying, “This isn’t it.”
But then came the pressure.
Everyone around me loved it. They were thriving.
People were saying, “Don’t give up, it’ll click soon,” and I felt guilty even thinking about quitting.
Like I was being weak. Like I wasn’t making the most of this experience.
So I pushed through. I did the second day.
And again — I felt completely disconnected.
When I finally told my instructor I didn’t want to continue, it was hard to even say the words. I felt embarrassed. Nervous. I thought people might judge me.
But the moment I said it — I felt this massive wave of relief.
Like my body exhaled for the first time in days.
And the support I received only made it clearer: I had made the right call.
That’s when I realized:
Sometimes “don’t give up” is actually bad advice.
Sometimes quitting isn’t failure — it’s wisdom.
Not everything that’s hard is meant for you.
We’re taught that strength means pushing through, no matter what.
But sometimes real strength is saying:
“This isn’t for me. I don’t need to prove anything to anyone.“
That shift, from proving to listening to my inner voice, changed everything.
And it got me thinking…
How many times in life have I done things for the wrong reasons?
To belong. To impress. To not disappoint someone else. To feel “enough.”
How many times have I confused discipline with self-abandonment?
Here’s the thing — I know what it means to do something hard and love it.
Years ago, I got into wakeboarding.
It was difficult, frustrating, and physically demanding. I fell a lot.
But even through the challenges — I felt excited.
I wanted to keep going.
There was something inside me that lit up.
That’s the difference.
There are things that are hard because they’re right for you.
And then there are things that are hard because they’re not.
And life already gives us enough hard things we don’t choose.
So when we do get to choose — those things should at least feel right in our soul.
This week, I didn’t learn how to kitesurf.
But I did learn how to listen to myself a little better.
And honestly — that might be the bigger win.
As you head into a new week, ask yourself:
- Where in your life are you pushing through something that no longer feels right?
- Is there something you’re doing just because others are? Because you think you should?
- What would shift if you stopped trying to prove yourself… and started trusting yourself instead?
Not every challenge is yours to conquer.
