Patience

I’m writing these lines in a rather joyful mood. Happier than many of my previous writings. I’ve just reached 20,000 followers on my Instagram, and at the same time, I’ve received the very first booking order of my life. First-time experiences are always wonderful. I never imagined even for a second that I would achieve these things.

But being happy isn’t enough. I am proud of myself for being decisive, for not giving up halfway, and for brushing aside negative thoughts and comparisons. More than anything, it’s the immense patience I’ve granted myself. Over two years. Not too long, yet certainly not short. I started from zero with absolutely no experience in hand. But I believed that as long as I gave something of value, I would eventually achieve something with this "work."

I’ve realized that success and failure are equally important. Daring to start is a success in itself. Many out there don't even dare to try. And even if I fail, at least later on, I won’t have anything to regret.

Patience is the ability of "Delayed Gratification"

In the past, I used to think patience was just endurance—gritting your teeth through hardships while waiting for the day to harvest the fruit. But after two years, I’ve realized that patience is actually a capacity: the capacity to delay instant gratification in favor of long-term values.

In psychology, there is a classic experiment called the "Marshmallow Test." Professor Walter Mischel at Stanford University conducted one of the most famous studies on behavioral psychology. He gave a child a marshmallow and offered a choice: eat it now, or wait 15 minutes until he returned and receive two.

The results after decades of follow-up were a shock: the children who knew how to wait patiently had higher SAT scores, lower stress levels, and far greater success in their careers compared to the group that ate the marshmallow immediately.

My journey has been much like that. There’s no denying that young people today are truly brilliant. They are sharp, fast, and decisive. I know comparing myself to them is futile. We only see the surface; perhaps they, too, had to strive intensely for those achievements. But I believe in slow success.

I understand that if I hadn't been patient with the accumulation process, that "first booking" would never have brought a sense of true pride. Success is not a random stroke of luck; it is the consequence of daring to refuse small immediate gains in exchange for something more sustainable.

Patience with our own "imperfection."

Many people give up not because they lack talent, but because they aren't patient enough with their own incompetence in the beginning. I started at zero—no skills, no experience. But I know that even the best had to start somewhere. I don't believe in overnight success. It might exist, but it certainly wasn't meant for me.

There is a truth that producer Ira Glass calls "The Gap." In the early years of creative work, the things you produce often aren't as good as the aesthetic taste you expect. It creates a massive disappointment. I, too, felt disappointed and doubtful, and I could have easily chosen to stop. But luckily, I didn't.

Patience here means allowing yourself to be wrong, to be clumsy, and to learn. I chose to be kind to myself instead of judgmental. Instead of asking, "Why haven't I succeeded yet?", I asked, "What value can I give today?" I used to write in English, change various formats, and post at different times just to realize a few useful things, as I do now. When you patiently fill the gap between your current skills and your dreams, success is no longer a distant goal but an inevitable outcome.

Success or Failure — They are all experiences, and equally important

There’s a reality that people often fear waste: fear of wasting time, fear of wasting effort on something without results. And that’s a legitimate fear. But in the creative journey, nothing is wasted. Every unread post, every silent effort is another time you "back up" data for your own resilience. You care for a tree from the moment you sow the seed until the day you pick the sweet fruit. Trust me, nothing feels better than that.

Patience helped me understand that success is not a straight line up, but a spiral. There are times when you seem to be standing still, but in reality, you are gathering momentum to break through. And because it is a spiral, the higher you go, the faster you move, and the closer the destination becomes. When you are no longer afraid of failure, you will find that patience is no longer a burden, but a freedom. Freedom to try, freedom to be wrong, and freedom to be steadfast on the path you’ve chosen.

P.S.

Instead of striving to achieve grand numbers, perhaps we should return to caring for the persistence within ourselves. When you are decisive enough, when you believe enough in the value you give, the result will become as natural as breathing. When you are a person of value and know how to be patient, everything you touch will sooner or later begin to sprout.

Today, how much patience have you given yourself? And are you ready to spend a little more time on your dream?