My Honest March: Ulcers, Faith, and the Messy Middle of Life

March. It always feels like my new year. A time for planning, yes, but also a time that pulls me back to memories of my dad. It’s my birth month, a natural pause to re-evaluate the last year, to take stock of where I am on this journey called life. And this year, the big question echoing in my mind is: Am I lost? Or am I simply in transition?

See, we often paint life as a series of destinations. Milestones ticked off, goals smashed, problems solved. But lately, I've been dwelling on the spaces in between. Those blurry moments of uncertainty, the messy periods of transition, those times when you feel suspended, not quite there yet, not where you were. I was talking to my brother, Kiitan, just recently, and even Lamar a few weeks before him, sharing this feeling of being utterly stuck, even when I can see progress happening. It's a weird space, isn't it? And we don't talk about it enough, even though I see echoes of it everywhere ,in tweets, in hushed discussions, in the unspoken anxieties we all carry.

Then, just this morning, I stumbled upon a post that resonated deeply: the need to embrace the in-between. It hit me hard because I realized I've been on this particular journey for five years now, and somewhere along the way, it morphed into a desperate chase. I became a victim of unfulfilled promises, and those disappointments have cast a shadow over my achievements. Taking a deep breath, I'm finally acknowledging that while this one thing has been my laser focus, life has still been happening. Life has happened to me as well. And maybe, just maybe, this feeling of stagnant waiting isn't stagnation at all. Maybe it’s fertile ground. Maybe it's where the real becoming happens.

You know me, though. Optimistic Olajide. The one who (mostly) refuses to give up. Head held high, asking for help when needed. But even for me, life lately has been a constant exercise in faith. Trusting that even when I feel utterly lost, utterly unsure, there’s still a forward momentum. That I’m still evolving, even in the fog, into the next version of myself.

And then, last week, life threw me a curveball ,an ulcer attack. My first ever. Lying there in pain, I literally looked up at the sky, wondering, How did I even get here? Closing my eyes, when nothing else offered comfort, I tried to imagine the version of myself I wanted to keep moving towards. The questions started swirling: Where have I stopped trusting the process? Where have I lost faith in the journey itself?

This isn't about pretending the uncertainty vanishes. It's about reframing it. It's about choosing to see the potential for growth within the discomfort, within the messy middle. And that's why I'm sharing this with you. Because in this noisy world, we often curate these perfect facades. We talk around things, but we rarely share the raw, undiluted truth of what we're going through, the real thought processes churning in our heads.

We shy away from the messy conversations, the words that could actually sustain someone else in their own flames and pain. (Subtle reminder to myself here too – to open my bible and find the words that speak to this season). Right now, I'm just, processing. Love, if it's truly love. Uncertainty, in all its forms. The pull of the past, the fear of the future.

But I know this much, I need to strengthen my faith even more. To act while processing. To simply keep doing. To take the next step, even if it's small, even if I can't see the whole path. To believe that this "in-between" isn't a void, but a threshold. What is waiting for us on the other side?

Because the in-between, this messy middle, is where transformation happens. Where we wrestle with life and our own minds. Where we shed old skins, cultivate new perspectives, and unearth a strength we didn't know we possessed. By acknowledging and embracing this space, we can actually move forward with more clarity, more confidence, more of ourselves.

So, know this, you are absolutely not alone in this journey. Uncertainty is woven into the fabric of life. Trust that you have the resilience, the inner wisdom, to navigate whatever comes your way.

May you find peace and purpose in your own in-between. And please, pray for me too. Write back to me. In fact, one way I’m responding to my own sense of purpose is by creating a safe space for you to share. A link where you can write to me about anything, anonymously if you wish. Consider it my support to you, a space free from condemnation, self-doubt, and all those voices that try to hold us back.

https://bit.ly/SpeaktoJoe Happy to share your burdens, to read your stories, and to hopefully help us all find a little more clarity and closure, together.

With Love,

Olajide