Fear, Hustle, and the Art of Letting Go

April 14, 202Five

"Many of us avoid facing fear at all costs, but sometimes we’re forced to."

I heard that line while watching the last season of Harlem on Prime, and it hit me deep. Also—sidebar—how dare they give us only six episodes? I mean, I’m grateful we even got a third season, but damn... just six? Amazon really could’ve ran the check up a little more and given the ladies a full ride. Still, I loved it. I love that show. I love anything based in or about New York, honestly. That city has my heart. Life will take me back eventually. One day.

ANYWAYSSS—Fear. That dreaded word. The thing that holds so many of us back from going after what we want, desire, or even need. But what we often overlook is how fear blocks us from our needs, too—not just our dreams. That part is personal for me.

Some would call me a workaholic. It’s in my DNA. I think it started in childhood—back when getting straight A’s was my addiction. You couldn’t tell me nothing in the classroom. Late nights, early mornings, grinding for extra credit, finishing projects early just because—I genuinely loved learning. That energy carried me through high school, two degrees, and now into adulthood... or I guess young adulthood? I’m 27, but something about this version of life don’t feel like full-on grown. It's giving transitional season.

When I graduated from Penn in 2019, I jumped straight into a master’s program. A break? Lol, never heard of her. I knew if I didn’t start then, going back would be a wrap. By 2020, I was back home in Cali, working full-time at a tech company, going to school full-time for my MBA, and still somehow not making enough to live. So I DoorDashed on the side. I liked clothes, and yeah, I was still Chief Keefing on that za back then, so let’s not act like budgeting was my strong suit. But let’s be real—either you work for a tech company that pays or one that doesn’t. Mine didn’t. Still, I loved it. It was new, the vibes were chill, and back in pre-COVID Philly with no car note or business ambition yet, I was coasting. It was groovy.

That’s where the cycle began.

I finished my MBA in 2021—but rest? Nah, that didn’t even cross my mind. That inner voice (you know, the one that sounds suspiciously like a hooded Kermit meme) whispered, “Do more.” So in 2022, I switched tech jobs. More money, sure—but it was a soul-sucking grind. Fourteen-hour days became the norm. I might as well have been hooked up to a caffeine IV. Still, I was hype. New job. New apartment in Koreatown. Life was looking up.

That’s also when I started making real moves on launching my clothing brand. But that meant needing even more money. So, second job it was. Yep—you read that right. Fourteen-hour workdays and I thought, “Why not add a little restaurant hustle to the mix?” Shoutout to Johnny’s on West Adams. Kept me busy, paid well, and was close to home.

2023? Rinse and repeat. Still grinding in tech. But now I was doing security at a bar a few nights a week—literally two minutes from my crib. The money was solid, and I had a brand to build. Then 2024 hit, and guess what? Yep. Same soul-draining tech job. This time, though, I was also clocking in at Dave’s Hot Chicken in North Hollywood. I’d walk across the street from WeWork and hop behind the counter. It was easy money, the vibes were fun, and I was doing what I needed to do to fund my dream.

But here’s the thing: I didn’t realize I was burning out. I was full of ambition, still am, but I was draining the life out of myself. For what? Some extra cash? Yeah, I was able to launch two full collections for my brand, but it cost me. It cost me time. It cost me energy. It cost me joy. The more I worked, the less I lived. The less I created. I turned into a shell of myself—running off fumes, stuck in survival mode, chasing something that never stopped moving.

And it took me a long-ass time to understand what was underneath all that grind. Fear. Not fear of failure, but fear of rest. Fear of stillness. Fear that if I stopped hustling—even for a second—I wouldn’t make it. I wouldn’t succeed. I wouldn’t be enough.

That’s a f*cking lie.

It took four long, exhausting years to learn that, but I did. I realized I was working myself into the ground trying to create a future, but in the process, I was robbing myself of the present. All the things I love—creating, dancing, designing, vibing to music, making art—I barely had time or energy for any of it. I was a zombie. A creative stuck on autopilot.

"Many of us avoid facing fear at all costs, but sometimes we’re forced to."

Recently, I had to face some hard truths. Life made me sit down. Like, really sit down. And I won't lie—rest still makes me uncomfortable. Stillness feels foreign. But I’ve been learning to breathe again. I’ve been finding rhythm in the quiet. Routine without chaos.

And you know what’s wild? In that rest, I’ve actually been doing more. Thinking clearer. Ideating better. Dreaming bolder. The creative spark is back, but this time, it’s not forced. It's flowing. Because here's the truth—creativity can’t be rushed. Quality can’t be rushed. Life’s not just about grinding for the next check. It’s about making space to live. To feel. To create. And I’m finally learning how to do just that.

So here’s your reminder, especially if you’re wired like me: rest isn’t weakness. Slowing down isn’t slacking. You don’t have to earn your right to breathe. You already deserve that. The grind will always be there—but so will your gifts. Feed them. Nurture them. And don’t let fear convince you that burning out is the only way forward.

🎧 What’s on Repeat While Writing This:

• “Survivor’s Guilt” – Joey Bada$$

• “Can I Live” – Jay-Z

• “Work” – Charlotte Day Wilson

• “No Role Modelz” – J. Cole