There’s a special kind of satisfaction that comes from seeing a project through to the end, especially when it doesn’t go as planned. I recently tackled a home repair DIY project that turned out to be more of an adventure than I’d bargained for. What started as a simple task—replacing a rotten wall panel and some insulation—quickly spiraled into something much bigger:
Replacing all the insulation
Re-running electrical wiring
Removing old newspaper insulation under the window sill
Spraying foam sealant
Caulking the outside brick
Adding nail-stopper plates
Then finally replacing the wall panel
It was messy, unexpected, and honestly, overwhelming at times. But finishing it felt incredible because the challenge forced me to adapt, learn, and grow.
summer wanted to help but she didn’t know the difference between a pry bar and a wrecking bar. and has no thumbs.it got messy quicklythe extent of thee water damagethey used newspaper as insulation! 😱dated Nov. 5, 1970front page of the newspaperI’m no electrician but this doesn’t seem right. 🤨also this…i could clearly see daylight to the outside! no good!QUAD to the rescue!we call it good.
Therapy is like a DIY project—messy, unpredictable, and life-changing.
Home repairs, as it turns out, are a perfect metaphor for therapy. Just like peeling back a wall reveals hidden issues, opening yourself up in therapy can expose complexities you didn’t anticipate. What you thought was one “rotten panel” might be layers of unresolved emotions, unexamined beliefs, or buried experiences.
And let’s be honest: that can be terrifying. Not only do you have to confront the work itself, but you also face the uncertainty of what lies beneath. Therapy often means diving into unknown territory—places you’ve never explored.
But here’s the thing: the first time you face those fears is the hardest. Each time after that? It gets a little easier. What once felt impossible starts to feel doable.
The Transformation
Better than before!
That’s the beauty of the work. Therapy takes what feels overwhelming and makes it manageable. Over time, the things you once avoided become things you conquer. They might even become things you enjoy.
And the best part? It’s life-changing. When you look back, you realize how far you’ve come and wonder, “How was I ever afraid of THAT?” The change is in the challenge.
Nathan Feuerstein, better known by his stage name NF, is an American rapper and songwriter known for his raw, emotional lyrics that delve into struggles with mental health, trauma, and personal growth. Through his music, he offers listeners a powerful way to process pain, find hope, and embrace vulnerability.
His songwriting teaches us that creativity can be a transformative outlet for emotional release and a tool for healing and self-discovery. NF’s authenticity and unflinching honesty remind us that confronting our darkest moments can lead to strength and resilience.
In his song HOPE, NF explores the emotional complexity of facing personal struggles and finding strength through adversity. The song emphasizes resilience, urging listeners to hold onto hope even when life is crippling.
Through powerful, introspective lyrics, NF conveys that healing is possible, and that transformation often begins with confronting our deepest fears. No matter how challenging the journey, we can grow, evolve, and rise above our circumstances. It’s an anthem of perseverance and faith in the face of pain.
Hope Yeah, I’m on my way, I’m coming Don’t, don’t lose faith in me I know you’ve been waitin’ I know you’ve been prayin’ for my soul Hope, hope
Thirty years you been draggin’ your feet Tellin’ me I’m the reason we’re stagnant Thirty years you’ve been claiming you’re honest And promising progress, well, where’s it at? I don’t want you to feel like a failure (failure) I know this hurts But I gave you your chance to deliver (deliver) Now it’s my turn Don’t get me wrong, Nate, you’ve had a great run But it’s time to give the people somethin’ different So without further ado, I’d Like to introduce my (My album, my album, my album, my album, my album, my album, my album) Hope What’s my definition of success? (Of success) Listening to what your heart says (your heart says) Standing up for what you know is (is) Right, while everybody else is (is) Tucking their tail between their legs (okay) What’s my definition of success? (Of success) Creating something no one else can (else can) Being brave enough to dream big (big) Grindin’ when you’re told to just quit (quit) Giving more when you got nothin’ left (left) It’s a person that’ll take a chance on Something they were told could never happen It’s a person that can see the bright side through the dark times when there ain’t one It’s when someone who ain’t never had nothin’ Ain’t afraid to walk away from more profit ‘Cause they’d rather do somethin’ that they really love and take the pay cut It’s a person that would never waver Or change who they are Just to try and gain some credibility So they could feel accepted by a stranger It’s a person that can take the failures in their life and turn them into motivation It’s believing in yourself when no one else does, it’s amazing
What a little bit of faith can do if you don’t even believe in you Why would you think or expect anybody else that’s around you to? I done did things that I regret I done said things I can’t take back Was a lost soul at a crossroad who had no hope but I changed that I spent years of my life holdin’ on to things I never should’ve kept, full of hatred Years of my life carryin’ a lot of baggage that I should’ve walked away from Years of my life wishin’ I was someone different, lookin’ for some validation Years of my life tryna fill the void, pretending I was in They get it
Growing pain’s a necessary evil Difficult to go through, yes, but beneficial Some would say having a mental breakdown is a negative thing Which on one hand, I agree with On the other hand, it was the push I needed To get help and start the healing process, see If I’d have never hit rock bottom Would I be the person that I am today? I don’t believe so I’m a prime example of what happens when you choose to not accept defeat and face your demons Took me thirty years to realize that if you want to get the opportunity To be the greatest version of yourself Sometimes you got to be someone you’re not to hear the voice of reason Having kids will make you really take a step back and look in the mirror At least for me that’s what it did, I
Wake up every day and pick my son up, hold him in my arms And let him know he’s loved (loved) Standing by the window questioning if dad is ever going to show up (up) Isn’t something he’s gon’ have to worry about Don’t get it twisted, that wasn’t a shot Mama, I forgive you I just don’t want him to grow up thinkin’ that he’ll never be enough Thirty years of running, thirty years of searching Thirty years of hurting, thirty years of pain Thirty years of fearful, thirty years of anger Thirty years of empty, thirty years of shame Thirty years of broken, thirty years of anguish Thirty years of hopeless, thirty years of (hey) Thirty years of never, thirty years of maybe Thirty years of later, thirty years of fake Thirty years of hollow, thirty years of sorrow Thirty years of darkness, thirty years of (Nate) Thirty years of baggage, thirty years of sadness Thirty years of stagnant, thirty years of chains Thirty years of anxious, thirty years of suffering Thirty years of torment, thirty years of (wait) Thirty years of bitter, thirty years of lonely Thirty years of pushing everyone away (You’ll never evolve) I know I can change (We are not enough) we are not the same (You don’t have the heart) you don’t have the strength (You don’t have the will) you don’t have the faith (You’ll never be loved, you’ll never be safe Might as well give up) not running away (You don’t have the guts) you’re the one afraid I’m the one in charge I’m taking the (no) I’m taking the Reigns
Running into 2025 with my head up, eyes forward, and heart open—and I’m not looking back for a second. 🏃🏻♂️💨
This year, I’m saying farewell to the me I’ve outgrown, celebrating the me I’ve rediscovered, and embracing the anticipation of the me I’m yet to know.
2025 is my year to conquer new challenges, starting with running my first half marathon. This time last year, I had only ever run 5Ks, never daring to call myself a distance runner. But everything changed when my wife challenged me to run the Greenville Trees Upstate Turkey Day 8K. I accepted—and crushed it. It wasn’t so bad after all, so I leveled up to a 10K. Now, with a 10-miler just 30 days away and my first half marathon in 60, I’ve gone from hesitant to hooked.
They call it the “running bug” for a reason. There’s nothing quite like the rush of crossing a finish line, the dopamine hit that floods your system, and the satisfaction of crushing a goal you once thought impossible. It’s euphoric. And I’m here for all of it this year—chasing the real dopamine, the kind that fuels growth, resilience, and self-discovery.
But this journey is about more than just running; it’s about pushing the limits I never thought I could challenge. Growing up, I wasn’t much of an athlete. Between mild asthma, outdoor allergies, and a chronic heart condition called Aortic Stenosis (a narrowing of the aortic valve that can limit blood flow and endurance), I was always told to “take it easy.” Physical activity was something I approached with caution, never pushing too hard or taking risks.
Movement is Medicine.
Ironically, it’s only by stepping outside those limits that I’ve become the healthiest version of myself. As I’ve increased my physical activity, my cardio fitness has soared. My resting heart rate is the lowest it’s ever been, and my HRV (heart rate variability)—a measure of my body’s resilience and recovery—is the highest it’s ever been. Beyond the physical benefits, running has transformed my mental health. It’s my stress reliever, mood booster, and a time for clarity and reflection.
In my upper 30s, I’m acutely aware of how important it is to stay active as I age. Movement is my medicine. I want to feel this good not just now but decades from now. When I’m twice my age, I want to be strong, mobile, and capable—not confined to a chair.
So here’s the plan for my half marathon:
1️⃣ Goal #1 is simply to finish.
2️⃣ Goal #2 is to finish with a sub-12-minute mile pace (or under 2:37 overall).
And if I don’t? It won’t be a failure; it’ll be a stepping stone for whatever challenge comes next.
Growth happens on the other side of comfort.
Limits exist to be pushed. Growth happens on the other side of comfort. And this year, I’m choosing to be uncomfortable in the best ways possible.
Here’s to running into the new year with purpose, passion, and perseverance. Join me on the journey—it’s going to a maratahon–not a sprint! 🏃♂️✨
The cinematic overture swelled through the theater, its rich, resonant notes vibrating deep within me. As the citizens of Munchkinland rejoicified, “No one mourns the wicked! No one cries they won’t return! No one lays a lily on their grave!”
The words were not just a chant of celebration but a reminder of the loneliness that comes with being misunderstood, of how easily society casts aside those who don’t fit its mold.
And goodness knows, the wicked’s lives are lonely. Goodness knows the wicked die alone. It just shows when you’re wicked, you’re left only… on your own.
Sitting in the theater, I was immediately transported back to when I first encountered the world of Wicked. Jon M. Chu brought the fantastical world to life, imagining it with such vivid detail that it felt as though I was stepping into a realm I had always known.
I’ve experienced Part One of the film adaptation twice now. I was so captivated the first time that I returned for a rewatch just a week later. It was in the second viewing that I connected with the wistfulness in Elphaba’s eyes, a longing for a world that could never fully accept her, but also a quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, she could find her place in it.
If you’ve ever experienced trauma in your childhood, Elphaba’s journey is something you can relate to in your bones. Her transformation from misunderstood outcast to empowered individual touches on the deepest desires of the heart: acceptance, understanding, and belonging.
It’s one of life’s greatest paradoxes—the world tells us, “Be like us and you will belong,” yet true belonging comes only when we embrace our truest selves, even when the world may not understand, agree with, or accept us.
And not only can this rejection come from the world, but it most often comes from the ones closest to us. Born into a family that couldn’t love her for who she truly was, Elphaba experienced rejection from the very people she entrusted with her love and safety, both physically and emotionally, leaving her to grapple with a profound sense of isolation.
Yet, Elphaba’s journey is not one she walks alone. Her relationship with Glinda, the epitome of everything the world deems “good,” juxtaposes Elphaba’s struggle for acceptance. Despite their contrasting personalities and beliefs, their bond beautifully illustrates the complexities of friendship, rivalry, and understanding.
In many ways, Glinda is a reflection of the world’s acceptance—what Elphaba longs for but cannot attain. And yet, it’s through their connection that Elphaba can find her sense of belonging, even if that belonging doesn’t look like what she imagined.
The evolving relationship between Elphaba and Glinda highlights the transformative power of connection. Their friendship, tested and tempered through trials, reflects the intricate relationships in our own lives, teaching us that true bonds are forged in the fires of adversity when it’s the most difficult to recognize. But it’s only in that very adversity that the work happens if we let it.
Just because you can’t see something, doesn’t mean it’s not there.
Though not from Wicked, this quote beautifully captures the spirit of the journey we witness in the story. It reminds us that sometimes, the most powerful truths are the ones we can’t see—those deep within, shaping our hearts and actions. Much like Elphaba, who is misunderstood and unseen for who she truly is, we all carry invisible forces, driving our growth, choices, and resilience.
Throughout the story, the Wizard’s manipulation tactics expose how power can be used to control and distort the truth. He preys on Elphaba’s insecurities, twisting her perception of herself and her place in the world, all while using charm and deceit to maintain his control. His ability to mask his true intentions behind a facade of benevolence highlights the darker side of authority, where those in power exploit others’ vulnerabilities for personal gain.
This chilling portrayal shows how easily trust can be corrupted, and how true strength lies in seeing through those falsehoods, as Elphaba does when she ultimately takes up the courage to blaze her own path.
“I’m not afraid. It’s the Wizard who should be afraid of me.”
– Elphaba
Fear is a force that can either bind us or empower us, depending on how we choose to face it. It’s a primal emotion that manifests physically, tightening muscles, quickening the heartbeat, and clouding the mind with doubt and hesitation. Fear is quick to paralyze, but it can also be the very thing that drives us to stand up, speak out, and embrace our true power.
Elphaba’s defiance in the face of the Wizard’s control exemplifies this. When she declares, “I’m not afraid. It’s the Wizard who should be afraid of me,” it is a moment of profound transformation. It’s not just a declaration of strength but a recognition of the fear that the Wizard has instilled in her, which she now chooses to turn into her weapon. Fear, once internalized, can be a catalyst for reclaiming autonomy, a shift from victimhood to empowerment.
As the credits rolled, I felt something change with me: a profound sense of gratitude. Wicked: Part One is more than just a film; it’s a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the beauty of embracing one’s unique journey. It reminds us to embrace the magic within, not for wicked means, but for good–a call to defy gravity in our own lives, just as Elphaba does.
