The Road from Article #1 to Article #100

Two years ago, I didn’t have a plan—just a restless ache that my life was drifting towards. I didn’t know what was next for my career. I didn’t know what to do with my life if I wasn’t following the traditional path of planning a family. I only knew that my “wallow days”—those nights where I sank into the couch and disappeared into a fog—were showing up more often.

It’s a scary thing to watch yourself lose hope.

One day, I decided to try something I hadn’t done in years: write. Not perfect, polished writing with a brand strategy. Not the kind I hid behind a pen name. Just… me. It had been years since I’d finished my book, years since I’d let my own words—messy, unfinished, and true—see the light.

I set a goal: 100 articles. Not because I knew what would happen at the end, but because I needed something to move toward. One hundred thoughts. One hundred lessons. One hundred moments of showing up.

In the Beginning

On Article #1, I still believed I needed the whole roadmap before starting. I thought clarity had to come first, then the journey. I thought my value came from having it all figured out before sharing a single word.

Somewhere in the Middle

The writing wasn’t always easy. Some weeks the words came like water. Other weeks, they scraped out of me like stone. Some pieces felt alive, others felt flat. But the discipline of showing up to the page—no matter the quality—began to do something I didn’t expect: it started to shift me. The wallow days came less often. The fog lifted just enough to see the outlines of a new horizon. Connections began forming in places where I’d only seen gaps before.

I started bridging the connections together even posting my articles on my LinkedIn

At the End

By Article #100, I knew you don’t get the map until you’ve walked the road. I understood that my value wasn’t in having answers—it was in showing up, especially on the days I didn’t. And I realized that the point was never to make each article perfect. The point was to build the muscle of telling my truth without waiting for the right lighting, the right timing, or the right version of me.

This series is ending, but it’s not the end. It’s the closing of one loop, the clearing of space for the next thing to grow. I don’t know what the next adventure will look like yet— but I do know I’ll keep walking, and I’ll keep writing.

Because that’s what 100 articles taught me: You don’t have to know where the road ends. You just have to take the next step.