Everything is Beautiful in Rose Colored Glasses

"You can't tell me about the rain, if all you've seen is sunshine

You can't tell me about pain, if all you've felt was high school heartbreaks and a few lies.

You can't tell me about breakthrough, if you've never had to fight to get to the light...

Let me live it, then I'll tell you.

Let me live it —But best believe, I will get through." -Nika Gem

Life is Beautiful. But Life is Also a Mess.

There comes a time when, after being worn out, burnt out, used, abused, and tossed aside—yet still alive—you ask yourself:

What next?

Do you sink into despair forever? Or do you move forward—with hope? With indifference?

Or maybe… with pretense?

When the storm passes and leaves behind the debris of tomorrow, do you sit still, waiting for the next disaster?

Or do you acknowledge it, clean up the mess, and prepare for what’s to come?

I’ve learned that although happiness is subjective, emotions are fleeting, and life is constantly shifting, when all is said and done—when we humans are left teetering on the edge of the unknown—sometimes all we can do is brush ourselves off. With broken limbs, fresh scars, a couple of black eyes, and maybe some signs of PTSD (please, get that checked out)… we whisper:

“I survived.”

Now, survival isn’t always a state to glorify. No one wants to barely push through, barely thrive, or barely make ends meet. But survival births strategy. It teaches us how to revive ourselves. How to avoid repeating what nearly destroyed us. And while that sounds nice—motivational, even—there’s a catch.

Sometimes, we put ourselves in survival mode.

We chase the bag.

We chase the job.

We chase the love.

We chase the status.

We chase the position.

And when we finally catch it, we realize the bag is too heavy, the supervisor is a viper, love feels like an addiction, and positions come with painful compromise.

And then we ask:

Why?

You don’t always quit. You don’t always give up. But you start to question everything.

Yet-if we willfully played a role in our own disasters, why do we struggle to see the bigger picture?

Why do we resist the fight toward something better?

Why can’t we recognize the light ahead?

This isn’t even a post about staying in the struggle, leaving the struggle, or throwing in the towel.

It’s more so about the H word.

Humble.

Now, this might sound controversial—but when I hear the word “humble,” I often associate it with lack. Humility, in my experience, sometimes feels like poverty. And yet, use it in a sentence, and it’s a compliment. The Bible calls us to humility—so it’s not about how I feel. It’s about obedience.

So here you are, on your knees, asking why. But we forget:

Eventually, all things come to an end. Whether that end is in heaven or here on earth.

That terrible job? You can quit.

High rent? You can move.

Desperate for love? You can learn to love yourself, or at least redirect your focus.

Feeling undervalued? You can build something of your own.

Tada—problem solved.

But not really.

Because you quit that job, start a business… and it takes five years to succeed.

You walk away from love, become fiercely independent… and then struggle to let the right one in.

You move to avoid rent… and end up in shared housing or discomfort.

There’s no easy way out!!

Yes, we should be thriving, not just surviving. But even the road to success has dark days.

So what do we do then?

We look ahead.

You can job-hop or build your reputation until you're undeniable.

You can love unconditionally, and eventually meet someone who mirrors that.

And above all—you have to hope.

Hope that what you want isn’t just a dream. That it’s attainable.

The grass is greener where you water it. And even if it rains—don’t you see the sun just down the way?

This new phrase, “delulu,” is fun. It’s catchy.

And maybe it’s not ideal to always live in a fantasy—but in the middle of a storm, you must believe that it will pass.

You’ve got a penny? Be delulu—tell yourself you’ll have dollars next month.

Eating the same thing every day or rarely at all? Say that soon, you’ll have a four-course meal.

Be delulu… until it’s true.

Because optimism is a friend. So is humility. So is faith.

And these things? They make doors creak open where others found only walls.

Tears will come. Struggles will knock. But I’ve conditioned myself to believe that maybe… just maybe… if we could learn to appreciate a simple life, our troubles might not feel so heavy.

But instead, we strive to eat big, live big, prove ourselves.

And that’s not always wrong—but sometimes, we genuinely don’t know how to get it right.

I remember coming out of my dark season, boldly declaring:

“This is it. Sunshine is coming. It’s waiting for me.”

And I believed that. Even when I couldn’t see it.

It hurts when life doesn’t match your expectations. But it hurts more when you view everything as a disaster.

And even when disaster does come… there is always an evacuation plan.

There is a way out.

You start by hoping.

Then you believe.

Of course, you pray.

And sometimes? You just have to tell yourself you're sipping water in the desert.

Put on your rose-colored glasses—until one day, you no longer have to pretend.

Scripture references

And Samuel said,

“Has the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices,  as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice,-1 Samuel 1:22 ESV

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Hebrews 11:1 ESV

But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says: “God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble.” James 4:6