Finding My Vision: Late-Night Revelations and Becoming Who I Am Meant To Be

 

I’ve never been someone who had a clear vision for life. Even as a child, I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, what my future would look like, or who I wanted to become. Most people talk about having a plan, a dream, a family, some picture of their life that keeps them moving forward. But for me? I can honestly say I’ve spent most of my life drifting — not because I didn’t want something better, but because I never really believed it was possible.

This morning, at 3 a.m., I found myself lying awake in the dark, stressing over money, my future, my blogs, my ability to ever make a life for myself that felt stable and free. Anxiety twisted through my thoughts like a cold, hard knot, causing my stomach churn until I felt nauseous making it impossible to rest. I prayed, as I often do, asking God for help, guidance, and strength. And then I did something I rarely allow myself to do: I stopped. I took some deep breaths and reminded myself that at this very moment, my bills are paid, I’m not completely broke, and I am safe. That’s it. Not the future, not tomorrow, just this exact moment.

And in that brief pause, a thought came to me — a realization that I hadn't really thought about before. I’ve never had a vision for my life. Even now, I can’t say exactly what I want, beyond freedom from the struggles that weigh me down — mental, emotional, and financial. I’ve tried to "think positive", to “trust the process,” to "put it in God’s hands". I’ve tried brainstorming solutions, trying to force hope into my mind. Nothing has ever worked. I couldn’t even imagine my life feeling different.

And yet, there it was. The vision that had been quietly waiting for me all along: Eimi Mishel.

She is everything I am not — confident, focused, bold, self-assured, magnetic. She knows who she is and what she wants from life. She moves through the world with energy and clarity, free from doubt, fear, and self-loathing. She doesn’t let magical thinking or anxiety hold her back. She simply is.

For the first time, I realized my vision doesn’t have to be a concrete plan or a perfectly mapped-out life. It can be a person, a version of myself that has been suppressed in the dark recesses of my being my whole life, that I aspire to become. She’s my guide, my inspiration, my north star. And with that vision comes a purpose: to create something meaningful and sustaining — my blogs, my work, my expression — to the point where they could support me, empower me, and give me the independence I’ve always longed for.

Here’s the truth, though: even with that vision, I don’t fully believe it can happen yet. I don’t have faith that my blogs will succeed or that I can transform into her overnight. But belief doesn’t have to come first. What matters is taking steps in her direction, even if they are small, even if the faith isn’t fully there yet.

I can do a post on the blog today because Eimi would post. I can be brave, journal, organize, or create because she would. I can pause and breathe when anxiety hits because she values clarity over chaos. That’s how belief is built — one choice at a time, one action at a time, until the vision becomes more than just a dream but a reality I can feel and touch.

So tonight, I’ll write down what I want my future to look like, not as a magical wish to the universe but as a real, grounded vision: waking up without dread, feeling calm about my finances, creating work that feels like me, enjoying quiet moments, breathing freely. This is my start. Small. Real. Honest. And it’s enough.

If there’s anything I hope you take from this, it’s that your vision doesn’t have to be perfect or fully formed. Sometimes, it’s simply the version of yourself that feels free, confident, and alive. And from there, you can begin to step into her shoes, one careful, brave step at a time.

Because even in the dark, anxious hours of the morning, there is a way forward. And it starts with seeing the light of who you can become, even if it feels impossible right now.

Until next time,
Eimi Mishel