Trust the Struggle by Dylan

Trust the Struggle by Dylan - July 2025 Scholarship Essay

If I could go back and give one piece of advice to my past self, I’d say this: “Trust the struggle—it’s shaping the version of you you’ve been praying to become.”

At 16, I didn’t know who I was. I was stuck between trying to survive what life threw at me and pretending I had it all together. I wore a confident mask around people, but deep down, I battled self-doubt, fear, and frustration. I didn’t feel like I was doing enough. I didn’t think I was enough.

There were nights I laid in bed replaying every mistake I had made, every time I said the wrong thing, or didn’t speak up, or failed to do what I thought a “successful” person would do. Back then, I thought success meant perfection. I thought the people who made it had smoother lives, straighter paths, and fewer breakdowns. And because my journey felt messy, slow, and full of detours, I assumed I was falling behind.

If I could sit beside that version of myself now, I’d tell him: “You’re not behind—you’re becoming.”

I’d tell him that feeling lost doesn’t mean you’re off track. That just because you don’t have all the answers doesn’t mean you’re failing. That the pain, the setbacks, the uncertainty—it’s all building you. Every uncomfortable moment is teaching you resilience. Every delay is protecting you from something you’re not ready for. Every “no” is pushing you toward a better “yes.”

I’d tell him not to rush his growth or compare his chapter one to someone else’s highlight reel. That silence doesn’t mean nothing is happening—sometimes, God does His loudest work in the quiet. I’d tell him to stop asking “Why me?” and start asking “What is this preparing me for?”

If I could give that advice earlier, maybe I would’ve been a little gentler with myself. Maybe I would’ve shown up to school with more confidence. Maybe I wouldn’t have beat myself up for needing rest, or taking time to figure things out. Maybe I would’ve spoken up sooner about my goals instead of shrinking them to fit into other people’s comfort zones.

But maybe that’s the point—maybe I needed to struggle to learn the strength of my own voice.

Now, I’m older, and I still don’t have it all figured out. But I’ve learned to love the process. I’ve learned to show up, even when it’s hard. I’ve learned to see setbacks as setups. I’ve learned to trust myself and the God who created me. And most importantly, I’ve learned that it’s okay not to be okay all the time—what matters most is that I keep going.

So to my past self, I say this:

You are not too late. You are not too broken. You are not falling apart—you are falling into place.

Trust the struggle. It’s working for you, even when you can’t see it yet.