5 Must-Read Reminders Before You Think of Giving Up - Letter Weave

The Time I Ugly Cried Over an Email

I once burst into tears over an email. Not a breakup email. Not even a “you’ve been fired” email. It was a “Sorry, we’ve decided to move forward with other candidates” email. For a job I didn’t even want that badly. I sat there, mascara streaking, surrounded by cold coffee mugs, scrolling Instagram like it was a lifeline—past engagement photos, book deals, and someone’s dog with more followers than me.

That was the day I almost gave up.

Not in the dramatic sense of dropping everything and fleeing to live in a mountain cave with goats (though I’ve Googled it). But that quiet kind of giving up. The kind where your energy fades and your spark flickers. The kind where you start pulling back from your own dreams—not because they’re impossible, but because trying again feels harder than failing.

And if you’re here, reading this, maybe you know exactly what I mean.

Maybe you’ve had one too many rejections. Maybe your big idea fell flat. Maybe you’re just tired of fighting for things while other people seem to stumble into success like it’s a party they were automatically invited to. (I don’t know who handed out those VIP wristbands, but it wasn’t me.)

And somewhere in the fog, that nasty whisper creeps in: “Maybe this isn’t worth it. Maybe you should just quit.”

I won’t give you the usual pep talk. You won’t hear me say “just stay positive” or “trust the timing” because, honestly, those phrases made me want to punch a wall when I was knee-deep in doubt.

But what I will give you? Five brutally honest, kind-hearted reminders. The kind I wish someone had gently shoved into my hands the day I almost gave up.

This post is for the dreamers on the edge. The tired creatives. The ones who are still showing up even when it hurts. The ones who feel like quitting but haven’t hit “log out” just yet.

Let’s talk about it—because before you think of giving up, there are a few things you really need to hear.

1. That Breakdown Might Actually Be a Breakthrough in Ugly Pajamas

A few months ago, I cried so hard I got a nosebleed. I was in mismatched pajamas, surrounded by unpaid bills and half-eaten tortilla chips. I thought, this is it—my villain origin story. But looking back? That meltdown cracked something open. Not in a spiritual “I saw the light” way, more like, “Wow, I have been bottling this for years and the bottle finally exploded.”

Sometimes, your lowest moment isn’t proof you’re weak—it’s proof you’re about to change.

Breakdowns often get mistaken for the end, when they’re really just the middle. The messy, plot-twisting, no-one-would-script-this middle. But here’s the thing: nobody goes through a transformation with clean hair and perfect lighting. You’re allowed to unravel. It doesn’t mean you’re giving up. It might mean you’re finally being honest about how tired you are.

Before you think of giving up, give yourself space to fall apart. It’s not a failure. It’s just being human.

“It’s okay if all you did today was breathe and refill your coffee.”

2. You’re Comparing Your Real Life to Someone Else’s Filtered Trailer

I once got jealous of someone’s morning smoothie. Yes, a smoothie. It had chia seeds and layered fruit and was photographed on a windowsill with natural lighting, as if that person had never spilled protein powder in their sock drawer.

Meanwhile, my breakfast was three Oreos and a grudge.

Social media makes it painfully easy to believe everyone else is crushing it while you’re crawling. But you’re not seeing their rejections, their debt, their existential dread at 3 a.m. You’re seeing their highlight reel with a Paris filter.

And it’s hard to stay in your own lane when everyone else seems to be zooming by in Teslas while you’re on foot, tripping over self-doubt.

But listen: you’re building something real, and real takes longer.

Focus on what feels true in your life—not what looks perfect in theirs.

“Nobody posts the part where they doubt everything and eat peanut butter out of the jar. But we’ve all been there.”

3. Your Progress Isn’t Lost—It’s Just Not Loud Right Now

There’s this awful feeling that creeps in when things get quiet. Like, why isn’t anything happening? Why isn’t my inbox full of yeses or my bank account reflecting how hard I’m working? And that’s when the thought hits: Maybe I’ve wasted all this time. Maybe it’s not working.

But hear me: Silence isn’t failure. Stillness isn’t regression. It’s just… part of it.

Progress isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s subtle. Sometimes it’s buried beneath all the noise of rejection, rest, or recalibration. But it’s there. You’re changing in ways that don’t come with confetti or applause.

Remember: baking bread takes time. So does healing. So does becoming someone who doesn’t spiral every time Mercury is in retrograde.

Before you think of giving up, look at how far you’ve come—quietly, consistently, even when it didn’t feel like “progress.”

“Growth doesn’t always look like a win. Sometimes it looks like you not quitting when you really, really wanted to.”

4. The Goal Was Never Perfection—It Was Becoming Who You Needed

There was a time I thought the goal was success. Like, capital-S Success with a TED Talk, a six-figure deal, and a killer morning routine involving celery juice and manifesting.

But then I realized… I didn’t actually want most of that. I just wanted to feel proud of myself. I wanted to be someone I recognized—someone I liked.

A lot of us start chasing dreams to prove something. And somewhere along the way, we forget what the point even was.

Here’s a truth bomb: you’re allowed to redefine the win. Maybe it’s not the book deal. Maybe it’s finishing the damn chapter. Maybe it’s not the launch. Maybe it’s surviving the week without rage-texting your ex.

Before you think of giving up, ask: Am I being honest about what I really want—or just chasing what looks impressive?

You don’t have to be impressive to be impactful. You just have to be real.

“Let the dream evolve. Let it breathe. You’re not a robot with a checklist—you’re a human being with a heart.”

5. You’ve Made It Through 100% of Your Worst Days (So Far)

I know, I know. It’s cliché. But you’re still here. Reading this. Breathing. Scrolling with one hand and holding your life together with the other.

That’s not nothing.

You’ve already survived the messy breakups, the panic spirals, the awkward job interviews, the bank overdrafts, the mornings you didn’t want to get out of bed. You’ve been here before. And you made it through.

You’re more resilient than you give yourself credit for.

And no, that doesn’t mean you have to hustle harder or pretend everything’s fine. It just means you have evidence. You’ve done hard things. You can do hard things. Again.

Before you think of giving up, remember what you’ve already survived. Let that be proof—not pressure.

“You don’t have to be brave right now. You just have to keep going. Even if it’s crawling.”

5 Must-Read Reminders Before You Think of Giving Up

Why This Really Matters

Let’s zoom out for a second.

This isn’t just about not giving up. It’s about why you wanted to start in the first place.

We don’t dream for fun—we dream because something deep in us is aching for more. More meaning. More impact. More connection. And sometimes, when it feels like nothing’s working, we assume we’re not cut out for it. But the truth? That ache, that desire, that pull toward something greater… it means you are.

You’re still in this because you care. That matters.

What if the pause isn’t punishment, but preparation?

What if the detour is exactly where the depth happens?

What if the version of you who’s curled up on the couch right now in emotional shambles is actually becoming someone with more softness, more grit, more clarity than the you who started?

That’s why this matters. Because staying—when it would be easier to quit—isn’t about proving anything to the world. It’s about honoring the part of you that refuses to go numb.

This isn’t about blind optimism. This is about staying awake to your own becoming. And that, my friend, is one of the bravest things a person can do.

Conclusion: You’re Not Broken—You’re Becoming

Let me circle back to the moment I cried over that email—the one that told me I wasn’t what they were looking for.

What it didn’t tell me was that I was burnt out. That I had pinned my worth to productivity. That I was so used to pushing through that I forgot how to pause. It didn’t tell me that I needed rest more than another project. Or that I was allowed to want things and still feel tired. Or that this one rejection wasn’t the final word on who I am.

And neither is yours.

If you’re still here, holding on by a thread—congrats. That thread is stronger than it looks. If you’re still showing up, even when you don’t feel shiny or certain or “on brand,” you’re doing the hardest, most holy kind of work: staying soft in a hard world.

You don’t need to fake being okay.

You don’t need to earn your rest.

You don’t need to build something impressive to be someone valuable.

You just need to be honest—with yourself first. And then maybe with someone else. And then maybe with the dream that’s still quietly alive in you, even if it’s whispering instead of shouting right now.