$pent Millennial

Dear Reader,

I am an impatient person. But I am working on it.

I have been impatient for as long as I can remember. As a child, when older, wiser people like my parents and grandparents would tell me, “Patience is a virtue,” I would quip back, finishing it with, “…that I don’t have.” Unfortunately, patience is still a skill I am working on.

Take dinner with my boyfriend, for example. Sometimes he’ll still be finishing up preparing his plate or seasoning his food, and I’m already sitting there, fork in hand, ready to eat. I feel guilty when I catch him rushing to sit down because he knows I’m waiting on him. Even as I feel guilty watching him rush, there’s part of me that’s dying with impatience, wishing he would just be faster. 

It is a small moment in the day, but an important one. I don’t want him to feel rushed or worry about me feeling impatient. So, I am working on it. 

As I work on my impatience with other people, I also recognize that I struggle with being impatient with myself. I am tempted to rush through challenges and expect immediate results. I often am hard on myself thinking I should already be better at, further along with, or more accomplished in something. I need to work on giving myself the same grace I’m trying to extend to others.

One place where I have been working on this in the past week is in my daily workouts. I enjoy staying active and working out. There’s something about pushing my limits that leaves me feeling accomplished. But lately, I’ve had to slow down. Back pain has forced me to shift my routine—to trade high-energy workouts for mobility exercises and stretches. I’ve had to face the discomfort of slowing down, accepting that this is the path to healing, even when it feels like I’m barely moving at all.

The other day, as I finished a lying-down stretch, I eased myself up into a sitting position. Slowly. Carefully. Without pain. It wasn’t the kind of milestone I would usually celebrate—but in that moment, it felt like a win. Even though I’d much rather be back to lifting weights or going for long runs, I’m learning to appreciate these small victories. They remind me that progress doesn’t always look the way we want it to, but it’s progress nonetheless.

This idea of “having to go slow in order to go fast” is one I’m working to embrace. It’s something I’ve seen play out in other areas of my life, too. When I was paying off debt, it often felt like I was moving at a snail’s pace—just chipping away, month by month. But by taking it slow and staying consistent, I was able to pay it off entirely and build an emergency fund that brings me peace of mind today. The same goes for my fitness journey: it’s not about quick results but about creating sustainable habits that lead to long-term success.

Patience isn’t something that comes naturally to me, but I’m learning. I’m learning to slow down when my body asks for rest, to celebrate the small wins along the way, and to remind myself that the progress I’m making now will lead to the outcomes I want—in time.

So, dear reader, if you’re like me and find yourself struggling to slow down, take this as a gentle reminder: going slow doesn’t mean you’re not moving forward. Whether you’re working toward financial goals, recovering from an injury, or just trying to enjoy a meal without rushing, patience has a way of turning the small, steady steps into something much bigger.

Thank you for reading. If you haven’t yet, I invite you to subscribe and “join me for coffee” each Sunday morning.

Until next week, be well and take care,

Everett

P.S. Check out my Instagram for more relatable bite-size content: @spentmillennial.