Remember that thread I told you about—the one I hold onto when everything feels like it’s slipping? The one that keeps me tethered when “good” feels like “not enough”?

Well, here’s the part we don’t talk about enough: sometimes, that thread pulls through. Sometimes, against all odds, it doesn’t just hold—it unravels into something bigger, something brighter, something worth every tear you cried gripping it.

I felt it the day a collector looked at my work, not with polite approval, but with that unmistakable glimmer. You know the one. The pause, the breath, the silent connection where they see themselves inside the piece. And then the words: “I want this.” Not because of price tags or decor, but because the art spoke to them. In that moment, my “not enough” turned into exactly enough.

The “I love it” from a juror, or gallery owner.  Two words that can make years of doubt feel like they were just steps on the way here. Two words that stitched me back together, reminding me that what I create belongs out in the world, not hidden away in my own self-doubt.

And then, that additional moment when a magazine editor wrote, “We want to feature you.” I sat there in silence, staring at the screen, tears welling up, because for once it wasn’t me begging to be seen. It was someone else saying, We see you. We choose you.

That’s the win. That’s the payoff. It’s not just the sale, the feature, the “yes.” It’s the affirmation that the thread I’ve been holding onto wasn’t foolish hope. It was the lifeline pulling me right here.

And I need you to hear this: your win is coming too. It may not look exactly like mine, but it’s coming. One day, your work, your persistence, your heart on the line—it’s going to be met with connection. With the right eyes, the right hearts, the right “yes.”

When it happens, it won’t erase the struggle, but it will make every scraped knee and sleepless night worth it. You’ll sit in that moment and realize: This is what I was holding on for.

So hold tight with me. Because one day soon, we’ll be raising our glasses together—not just in celebration of the win, but in honor of every damn day we chose not to let go.