Choose Your Hard…
Here’s the thing nobody tells you when you’re growing up: life is hard no matter what you pick. You can be broke or balling, shredded or soft, faithful or infaithful—and guess what? Still hard. There’s no magical version of life where the clouds part, the abs sculpt themselves, and your inbox politely unsubscribes on your behalf. Nope. Life doesn’t work like that. Life gives you a buffet of hards and politely says, “Go ahead, sweetheart, choose your plate.”
Being out of shape is hard. Your knees sound like a Rice Krispies commercial every time you stand up, and stairs become your enemy. But being in shape? Oh, that’s hard too. It’s meal prepping when all you want is a donut. It’s squats when your hamstrings are screaming and some overly cheerful trainer is yelling, “Just five more!” like that’s a mercy. And don’t even get me started on the betrayal of sore abs when you sneeze.
Working a 9-to-5 is hard. It’s soul-numbing meetings, people who CC the entire planet, and a lunch break that somehow vanishes in the Bermuda Triangle of your office kitchen. But starting your own business? That’s hard on steroids. It’s working 24/7 to avoid working 9 to 5. It’s crying into your laptop at midnight wondering if you’re a genius or just deeply confused. It’s invoices, imposter syndrome, and googling “how to build a website without crying.”
Life without God? That’s hard. You’re constantly trying to steer your own ship through storms without a compass, pretending you’ve got it all figured out while low-key Googling “what is the meaning of life?” on a Tuesday. But a life devoted to God? Also hard. Faith asks for surrender, patience, obedience—three things most of us are not great at when there’s traffic and our WiFi drops.
Being in debt is hard. It’s living on the edge of your bank app, avoiding eye contact with bills, and mastering the art of saying “Let’s just split the check” while praying no one orders appetizers. But being financially disciplined? That’s hard in a different way. It’s saying no when your inner child wants the shiny thing. It’s budgeting. It’s adulting so hard it hurts your feelings.
You see the pattern here, right?
Hard doesn’t discriminate. It’s the universal currency we all have to spend, whether we’re buying progress, purpose, or just plain survival. But the difference—the thing that actually matters—is whether the hard you’re choosing is building you or breaking you.
Are you suffering for something that’s meaningful, or just marinating in the same cycle of struggle because it’s familiar?
We don’t always get to choose what life throws at us, but we damn sure get to choose how we show up. So if it’s all going to be hard anyway, why not pick the hard that leads somewhere worth going? Why not pick the hard that teaches you something, strengthens you, humbles you, refines you?
Choose the hard that leaves you proud of who you’re becoming.
Choose the hard that turns pain into purpose.
Choose the hard that aligns with who you want to be—not just who you’ve always been.
And while we’re here, can we stop pretending anyone has this all figured out? Life isn’t a clean before-and-after photo. It’s a messy, unfiltered, in-progress, unflattering-angle kind of thing. One day you’re crushing your goals, the next you’re crying into a pint of non-dairy ice cream because it still somehow tastes like sadness. Welcome to the club. We’ve got snacks and trauma bonding.
But you keep going. You keep choosing your hard. And you remind yourself: there is no easy path—just meaningful ones.
So the next time life feels impossibly heavy and you’re standing at the fork in the road between “stay the same” and “level the hell up,” don’t look for what’s easy.
Look for what’s worth it.
And then—choose your hard.
Again and again. On purpose.
With a little grace, a lot of grit, and maybe just one donut.
For balance.