Your Favourite Days Are Still Ahead

…and they’re going to be worth the wait.

Some of your favourite days haven't even happened yet!

Isn’t that the wildest thought? That in a world where it feels like everything is always ending, people, seasons, chances, dreams, there are still beginnings waiting in corners you haven’t turned yet. There are still days that will arrive, quietly, without warning, and change you. Maybe you don’t believe that right now. I get it. I’ve had those stretches of time, too, where every day blends into the next, like a film stuck on loop. You wake up, scroll through your phone, try to chase some purpose through screens and routines, and by the end of the night, your body feels tired, but your heart still feels... untouched. Like nothing actually happened. Like you lived through the day, but you weren’t really in it.

And sometimes, the weight of what hasn’t happened yet becomes too much. We convince ourselves we’ve already missed the important stuff. Like maybe our “golden days” came and went when we weren’t paying attention. Perhaps the best hugs, the most honest love, the wild laughter, the quiet peace, maybe all of it was left behind in a version of us we don’t know how to access anymore. And that thought? It’s a heavy one. It sits in your chest, quietly whispering that maybe it doesn’t get better than this. That maybe surviving is all you’re ever going to do.

But let me tell you something that saved me more than once, not in grand, Instagram-worthy ways, but in the simple, sit-down-and-breathe kind of way: some of your favourite days are still making their way to you. You haven’t even met all the people who are going to love you yet. You haven’t read all the books that are going to change you. You haven’t seen all the places that are going to feel like home. I know the present can feel bleak. I know the past is full of disappointments and people you wished would have stayed, but what about the future? It’s not empty. It’s unwritten. And that's a very different kind of scary & beautiful, and it's not hollow; it's just waiting.

Because maybe the best meal of your life is something you haven’t tasted yet. Maybe your future dog or cat hasn’t even been born yet. Maybe one night you’ll get caught in the rain on a road you’ve never driven before, with someone who will turn to you and say something that will stay with you forever. And maybe, years from now, you’ll remember that day and think:
Yes, this was one of my favourites.

We romanticize the past like it’s the only place where magic lives. But the truth is the future is just as soft, just as full, just as capable of surprising us.

Think about how many people you’ve loved, lost, met, and re-met. How many versions of you have existed. How many heartbreaks you thought you wouldn’t survive. But you did. And in between all of that, didn’t you have moments of stillness? Of comfort? Of belly laughter in a group of people who just got you? Didn’t some days feel like postcards you wish you could send back to your past self?

Now imagine this:
Your future self, years from now, might look back at this weekend you’re about to live and think,
That was the day everything shifted. That was the day I didn’t know I’d meet them. That was the beginning of my favourite chapter.
And you’ll be standing there in the moment, completely unaware of how special it’s going to be. Just breathing. Just living. Just existing.

And that’s what makes it beautiful.

We don’t always get a warning. Life doesn’t tap us on the shoulder and whisper, “Hey, this is one of the good ones. Remember this.”
It just happens.
Quietly. Gently. Honestly.

And then it’s ours forever. And also, it may have happened in your past, or it may happen in your future, like

One day, and you won’t see it coming, you’ll wake up and something will feel different. Not because life is suddenly perfect, but because you feel lighter. The version of you who wakes up that morning will be someone who somehow, quietly, over time, survived a hundred silent battles. Someone who no longer flinches when they feel joy. Someone who has made peace with not having all the answers. Someone who knows what it means to sit alone and not feel lonely. And it won’t be the grandest day of your life, but it will be one of the most sacred. You’ll sip your coffee or stare out the window or laugh at a message on your phone, and you’ll realize your body isn’t bracing anymore. Your nervous system isn’t scanning for a threat. You’re just... here. Alive. And safe.

And there are more days like that. More versions of you are going to be proud of how far you've come. There’s a future you who smiles without guilt. Who says no without apologizing. Who sits across from someone who truly sees them, and doesn't feel the urge to shrink. Who no longer attaches their worth to who stayed, who answered, or who needed them. There's a future you who moves through the world knowing they are allowed to take up space.

There’s a birthday where you won’t feel the need to wish for anything because, for once, you’ll look around and feel full. Not rich, not famous, not perfect, just full. With presence. With peace. With enough-ness. There’s a day coming where someone looks at you with your messy hair and old sweatshirt, and tired eyes, and says, “You make my life better,” and for once, you won’t doubt it. You’ll believe them. Because you’ll have done the work to believe it yourself first.

There’s an afternoon you’ll do something small like take a walk, or paint a wall, or try something new, and you’ll pause in the middle of it and think, I’m not scared anymore. And you’ll mean it. There’s a moment you’ll see your idea take form in the world. Maybe it’s your name on a book cover, your art on a wall, your words in someone else’s voice. Maybe it’s a little note someone leaves you saying, “This helped me.” And that moment? That will make all the invisible labor feel worth it. All the nights you doubted your path, all the days you wanted to give up suddenly, they won’t feel like wasted time. They’ll feel like the training ground for this exact kind of joy.

There’s a concert where your favorite song will play and you’ll scream every word, and the person next to you, maybe someone you haven’t even met yet, will scream it too, and in that chaos, you’ll feel held. There’s a road trip that will become a core memory, not because everything went perfectly, but because you laughed your way through the wrong turns and shared silence in the moments that didn’t need fixing. There’s a quiet breakfast after a long, aching season, the kind where the coffee tastes like a reward, not a survival tool.

Even the smallest things, the random Tuesdays, the way the sky looks after it rains, a voicemail from someone you love, they’ll start to feel magical again. And it won’t be because life finally changed. It’ll be because you did. You stayed long enough to start noticing the magic again. You started choosing to see it. That’s the hardest part of hope, not finding it, but choosing it, over and over, when everything in you feels tired of being disappointed.

But here’s the thing: this version of you right now? The one who’s still waiting? You’re still worthy. Even without the big moments. Even in the quiet chapters. Even on the days you don’t recognize your own reflection. You are already someone to be proud of. And I promise, as sure as the seasons shift, as sure as the sky changes color without asking for permission, your favorite days are coming. The ones where the weight lifts. The ones where you finally exhale. The ones where you’re not holding yourself together, you’re just being.

So if today feels slow, or heavy, or dull, that’s okay. Not every day has to be brilliant. Not every moment has to be defining. But you should know that somewhere out there, in the distance, is a day that will become your favourite. You don’t know the date. You don’t know the place. But it’s coming.

And maybe, just maybe, your future self is already cheering you on. Already holding space for everything good that’s on its way.

So, no, it’s not too late.
You haven’t missed the moment.
You’re not too old.
You’re not too far behind.
You’re not broken beyond repair.

Some of your favourite days will arrive

So please, don’t rush.
The good stuff is not behind you. It’s not lost in some old version of you. It’s not waiting for you to fix yourself first.
It’s coming.
And when it arrives, it’ll feel like coming home.

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