Sometimes we like to romanticise difficult times — we like to think that it will all be worth it in the end, that somehow the pain that we’re going through is simply a step to something better. We like to celebrate failure porn, and “getting out of our comfort zones”.

But the truth is that difficult times simply suck. They’re soul-sucking mo-fos that drain every ouch of physical, mental, and emotional energy you have.

No, we don’t really know whether things will turn out in the end; and no, we don’t know if our efforts will pay off. And we might also never have enough perspective on why things turn out the way they did. We will wonder how we got there, and WTF we did to get there.

Yes, at some point in the future we might look back and “join the dots” and see what it all means, but by then we’d be so far from those miserable moments that we’ll create any story that make us feel better about them anyway.

Romanticism is beautiful in the good times, but often the only thing we can do when we’re going through difficult moments is to not make them bigger than they are, and, I think more importantly, not to try and make them smaller than they are.

Just be there, breathe, do our best, and hope it all turns out.