so, you don't feel like you're enough.

hey there, i see you.

i see the countless of hours you spend on that project, that application, that proposal.

i see the take out meals, the piled up laundry, the un-made bed, the dishes in the sink.

i see the frustration of your friends not understanding why you have to stay in another night, and the white lie promises of “i’m almost done guys! just gotta tweak a couple things!”

all for it to be rejected, or a “not this time, maybe next quarter,” or my favorite: “its all a connections game - just find a connection to get you in!”

so, you don’t feel like you’re enough. or that you’re doing enough.

join the club.

so, you try to relax. maybe not work for a couple nights, put on your comfiest clothes and bring your A game to the couch for some major TLC. i’m talking full on face mask, bubble bath, wine and junk food type of vibes.

but still, those lingering thoughts are itching in the back of your mind - “was i not enough?” “what can i do differently?” “maybe too many people applied and they didn’t see my application?” “why am i not enough?”

you are enough. let me say it again so it sticks: you are enough.

when you want something so terribly, you feel like you could do anything for the outcome to sway in your favor. so when the outcome takes a hard turn in the wrong direction, it stings. really bad.

there have been times over these past couple of months where i felt like i’ve hit rock bottom. from still applying to jobs in the media industry and getting no responses, to feeling like i’m not preforming my best at my job (when i definitely am - your mind loves to play tricks on you and tells you you’re not doing enough!) to feeling like i have no friends because no one prepares you for post grad life and you miss everything about undergrad, to just feeling like i am not enough for anything. that i can do nothing right.

that is a lie that i have been telling myself, and it affects every aspect of your well-being.

it is easy to fall into that mindset, but something extremely important to remember is that you have worked so hard to accomplish everything you have achieved up to this point. that is so successful. that is doing more than enough. let’s stop focusing on the success of our future, when we have so much success in the present already.

you took a leap of courage at work, applying for that job, asking someone out on that date, asking your boss for a raise, while understanding that these outcomes could result in a “no.” that is so successful. that is doing more than enough.

you are so worthy of other people’s time. you are capable and qualified for that position. you are genuine, and kind, and so gracious and want to help. those things make you so successful in your life and others can see that.

i really hope something works out in my favor soon. oh my gosh. i really, really do. but in the end of the day, it’s not up to me, and even if they decide to go in a different direction, i know i’m enough. i’m enough because i showed up, i committed, and i gave it my all.

what a shame it would be for you to miss out on that growth, that experience, that leap of courage, because you feel like you’re not enough.

— talya ozbelli

don’t grow up. it’s a trap.

throughout my whole life, i’ve looked forward to the next big thing. first it was moving to America, then turning 10 - double digits were the most exciting thing to a 9 year old. after years of waiting to do things and turning milestone ages, i’m at the point in my life where the dreaded job search begins for a (about to be) recent graduate of a large state school in North Carolina. at first, it’s exciting - getting to apply to companies and roles that you’ve dreamed of, crossing your fingers and sending up a quick prayer that you miiiight just land it.

i never landed that role, or the other, or any role. reality really hit me in the face like a ton of bricks and i’m still trying to get up.

oh yeah - let me mention that it’s during a pandemic, where the job market is historically low, and you have people with 10+ years competing for an entry-level role with you because…… COVID. thanks a lot.

some rejections are worse than others. some don’t even email you back. i applied to a job back in December and last week, in April, they emailed me basically saying “thanks, but no thanks,” and that’s that. you’ll make it to the last round of interviews, put on your freshly pressed blazer and spend hours straightening your hair to calm the craziness of the curls all to be told, “we loved getting to know you, but please consider other roles!” my parents said it gets easier every time, but it doesn’t feel like it does. honestly, it stings a little bit more. I have now over 60 personalized cover letters and resumes sitting pretty in the storage of my computer, each one tweaked to perfection waiting for a recruiter to look at it for more than 5 seconds. job searching is no joke and it tears you apart; mentally, physically, emotionally, till you question if you were even made for what you studied and pursued for the past 4 years in undergrad.

my favorite rejections are the ones that say “don’t be discouraged! we have TONS of openings so PLEASE apply!”

……. um, after hearing that over 100 times, i’m good. ANYWAY.

i’m only 21. I’m so young. so young. how am I supposed to know what I want to really do? I don’t. at all! I have a vague idea, but as far as the exact role and the exact company… *shrugs shoulders*

and maybe you’re just like me. taking it day by day, dancing in the dark. maybe you’re in your 40’s and you just got laid off, having to take care of a family and looking at my naive, little 21 year old self who wrote this post, chuckling. or maybe you just graduated too, and either way, I hope these words fill you with hope.

out of the roles I’ve applied for (it has to be over 100 at this point), all of them have been rejections, and I’m in the interview process for 1 of them (!!!) there’s one more that my application is under review for.

It’s easy to feel imposter syndrome when you have platforms like LinkedIn, where every other post is “excited to have landed this role at XYZ!” or “so happy to be returning to blah blah blah!” In between, you have the classic “rejections are normal - keep shooting for the stars! you’ll get there!” It’s so expected it makes me want to roll my eyes. don’t get me wrong - I am beyond thrilled for those people and my friends and colleagues that they did it. They really did it. They landed that job. It just becomes hard to stay positive through the process and try to not expect the worst.

give yourself grace. we are living through a time that is beyond difficult - it’s okay to not have everything plan and figured out. stay hopeful, stay ready.

I think we can all agree that we don’t see the hardship and struggle that comes before the job offer is actually extended. how many hours people put into their own job search, and the plethora of rejections. you’ve read it on LinkedIn, seen it through others, and heard about it over coffee dates. It’s so true when you hear “all you need is that one yes” - because that’s what changes the algorithm in this complex and mysterious maze we call the job process.

i’m choosing to stay joyful and positive. yes, it’s hard, and yes, it sucks at times, but that doesn’t mean you’re the only one. there are millions in the same boat as you - reach out your arm and grasp theirs, look them in the eyes and say that you see them, and are rooting for them, and you’ll make it there, together. i’m grateful to have even gotten this far in my job search.

i’m eager and prepared, but until that day comes, i’ll be patiently waiting on the side for my turn. it’ll happen. eventually :-)

— talya ozbelli

"was that a pivotal historical moment we just stumbled past?"

it’s like a switch turned off

like a bulb went out

electricity stopped flowing, cascading all throughout cities and towns and nations

well, here we are — frozen in time

trying to dance and feel our way through the vast darkness, being mindful of the damage done

i long to reach out and grab a hand, feeling fingertips skimming past my own

nothing is there

eyes become reservoirs of sadness, longing to feel the smoothness of a palm, giving it a tug and squeeze

nothing.

laying down, looking at the unadorned white ceiling and just thinking

“how did we get here?”

minds teetering back and forth

“don’t touch” becomes a new norm

i miss seeing faces. i miss embraces. 

i hate that your beautiful face is covered by a mask

your delicate hands engulfed by latex

smiling was never meant to be hidden behind a piece of cloth, only seeing your eyes crinkle to know and understand that you’re happy  

heart rates quicken; fear is a common denominator. 

breathing is constrained to a machine

it breaks us, piece by piece and layer by layer till the bones in our bodies ignite with a passion of vulnerability and hatred

“how did we get here?”

did we just stumble our way into disaster 

or can we find joy in the unknown?

i hear jesus. i see jesus. 

i see him in first responders

i see him in volunteers

and essential workers

i see him in the millions of smiles shared despite the aching and the hurting and the crumbling. it clings into the darkness of the night sky, grinning and laughing in fear’s face. 

i hear him in the joys of zoom calls

in the playful bickering of dinner finally coming to the table again

in the claps of rejoice to another survivor 

in the ringing laughter of kids, as they find senses of jubilation through being with their family

in the cheers of drive-by celebrations 

in the tender whispers of prayers

in the tearful, choked sobs as you plant your hand on the glass, longing to interlock it with the person on the other side. 

he is here. he is near. 

— talya ozbelli

november 2019

death is 5 letters. two vowels, three constants, one syllable. if you looked up the definition, it would give you something along the lines of this:

the act of dying; the cessation of life.

but that’s so technical. what is death?

well, none of us know, because we’re all alive. we’ve never experienced what death actually is. so morbid. i know. just let me get to the point.

sorry to start on a somber mood. sometimes we have to ask hard questions and explore them.

it’s been a hard 5 months. when i heard the news of my grandfathers passing back in november, i felt my heart drop to my stomach and my throat close. tears stung my eyes and threatened to cascade past my waterline and down my cheeks, as i gripped my phone tightly and put my hand over my mouth, hearing my mother’s strained, sad voice break the news to me. the fact that i hadn’t seen my extended family in over 2 years put a little more salt in the wound, and guilt started to hit me like waves. how selfish was i to not visit? how selfish of me take an internship for the whole summer? god, how dare you take him away before i got to say goodbye? i immediately left for turkey - threw a couple of random shirts and jeans and borrowed a black dress into a tiny duffle, squeezed my roommates goodbye, and was on my way. i almost didn’t make it - my passport was expiring and i was on the verge of a breakdown in the raleigh durham international airport. i connected with my family at washington dulles, and embraced my mother, crying into her hair and squeezing her. i kept thinking, “oh my god,” and i felt numb. i cried for my mom, i cried for my brother and dad, i cried for my cousins, aunts, uncles, and i cried for my grandmother. as gut-wrenching and hard this time was, jesus was so clearly evidently there. he was there as a friend on my plane to DC, when i sat next to a ncsu soccer player that provided comfort. he was there as a savior on my plane to istanbul, as i sat next to a sweet arabian woman that let me use her shoulder to cry on. he was there at the funeral, as i shook over 500 people’s hands, offering their condolences. he was there when i held my frail yet strong grandmother, he was and still will be there at the times i sit up in the middle of the night and cry, when i think about how entering that house will never be the same, and how many people loved him and celebrated his life. as i sit here, writing this post with tears, i’m left in awe of memories of the wonders my grandfather did during his life. he selflessly helped the sick, delivered so many babies that brought joy to families, he examined my nose and kissed my cheeks when i fell face-first into marble, he made me laugh and always wanted chocolate and ice cream, he loved going to the beach more than anything, he grew fruit trees at his mountain house so that we would always have a vibrant breakfast, he pushed his kids restlessly to pursue their dreams, and he loved everyone equally, and really, really cared for them. thank you jesus. thank you for teaching me that love has no limits - it stretches as far and as wide as you tell it to, letting my grandfather become an epitome of it and always remind me that i am so loved. thank you for the things you have taught me and keep teaching me through the darkest nights and storms.

sometimes i long to wish to have a glimpse of heaven - of what my grandfather is doing now. is he dancing away? is he secretly eating chocolate like he would when he would steal out it out of the cupboard before dinner? is he lying in the grass looking at the sky? is he taking a walk with his friends that he hasn’t seen in a while?

for now, all i need is the comfort and peace that jesus provides. that’s more than enough.

— talya ozbelli