Hard Work and the Power of Belief
This week was my birthday, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve made the same wish every year: the strength to get through any challenge. The strength to survive the day, to move forward, to face the people that said “I couldn’t.” That told me my potential was limited to following orders, staying quiet, and walking a path laid out by them. Strength was my wish—not just on birthdays but whenever the clock aligned at 2:22 or 11:11. I wished for strength to get me through living.
Growing up, my dreams were practical, not whimsical. Did you ever believe in Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, or Bigfoot? Maybe you waited for the sound of sleigh bells or a dollar tucked under your pillow. For me, those fantasies were as distant as a fairy tale.(Fairy tales I did believe in) My first-generation immigrant household didn’t know about such traditions. Once, I laid out orange soda and cookies for Santa, only to catch my sibling eating them ten minutes later. That was the end of that.
Instead, I was taught to believe in something far more tangible: the value of hard work.
In our home, hard work wasn’t a virtue; it was survival. If I wanted something, I had to earn it. There was no comfort for failure—only harsh words like, “We didn’t come to this country for you to be so stupid.” I don’t remember when those words stopped stinging and started shaping me, but eventually, they did. They instilled in me an unshakable belief: if I just worked hard enough, I could get through anything. And so I wished for strength.
For years, hard work became my answer to everything. Didn’t know how to solve a problem? Work harder. Fell short of a goal? Work harder. Have an issue with work? It's because you didn't work hard enough.
And it worked—at least outwardly. I found the strength to finish large projects, change careers, I built organizations, mentored people, and I found success. The failures I kept hidden. From the outside, I seemed unstoppable. But inside, something was missing.
The Missing Piece: Belief in Myself
It took me until now to understand. Despite my persistence, resilience, and achievements, I don't truly believe in myself.
There is always a whispering voice in my mind, soft but relentless: Can you really do this? Are you sure? That voice wasn’t loud, but it was powerful. It sowed doubt, even when I’d worked harder than anyone else in the room. It was the judge.
Looking back, I see opportunities I didn’t pursue—not because I lacked the ability, but because I didn’t believe in myself to start. Hard work can carry you far, but it can’t silence the doubts in your mind.
A New Kind of Wish
This year I don’t want to just wish for strength to endure or the will to work harder. Hard work can take you far, but at one point, I’m just spinning my wheels, not taking risks I want to take, because I don’t believe in myself.
It seems absurd, doesn’t it? That it’s easier to believe in mythical creatures than in your own self? People believe in Santa, Bigfoot—even my sister-in-law believed in aliens. Yet believing in myself feels impossible.
What’s the Point If We Don’t Believe?
We have one life. No one knows what happens after this. But if I can’t believe in myself, what’s the point?
When I leave this world, I want to know I trusted in my own potential. That I believed in the impossible—not just in fairy tales, but in myself. Because without that belief, what was it all for?
Believing in myself doesn’t happen overnight. Self-doubt has lived in my mind for so long that it feels natural, an ingrained part of who I am. Quieting that doubt and allowing belief to take its place takes time and patience. Belief isn’t just about hope; it’s about trusting that my hard work has value. It’s about silencing self-doubt with louder declarations of self-worth. So, this year, my wish is simple: to believe. To believe in myself.