Nothing Lasts Forever

Hi friend,

You’ve undoubtedly heard the phrase: "Nothing lasts forever."

An obvious truth — yet it's amazing how often our brains lead us to believe otherwise.

While I've long considered myself a "recovering perfectionist," motherhood has helped me fully grasp the absurdity of the "all-or-nothing"/“always-or-never” mindset I used to live by—the belief that every challenge was permanent, and every season (however brief) definitive.

Watching my daughter Poppy take developmental leaps—sometimes literally overnight—has shown me that almost everything is temporary.

Yes, she may be inconsolable for hours (or days, or even weeks) on end—and at one point, she was.

But then one night, seemingly out of nowhere, she slept straight through.

No intervention. No warning. Just change.

(A tremendous relief—and yet completely bewildering and, honestly, a bit terrifying for my control-craving brain.)

That moment crystallized something for me:

The deepest pain I often feel in hard moments doesn’t come from the challenge itself—whether it’s Poppy-related fatigue, a cold or physical ailment, a particularly hard stretch at work, or just a general sense of lethargy, anxiety, or burnout.

It comes from my fear that the challenge will last forever or become my “new normal.”

That it will unravel everything I’ve built—as a mother, in my marriage, in my career.

Spoiler alert:

It virtually never does.

Of course, I know this truth cuts both ways.

We're undoubtedly in the calm before the storm of teething—or some other milestone that will upend our current rhythm.

But when I remember that “this too shall pass”—for better and for worse—I can breathe easier.

I can savor the fleeting magical moments instead of bracing for impact or worrying I’ll set an unsustainable precedent.

I can validate my fatigue and hard emotions when I’m struggling—and allow myself to pause long enough to care for myself—instead of forcing myself to push through and “just carry on.”

And I can trust that whatever wave comes next, I’ll be able to ride it out with a little more grace than I did before.

So today, friend, I encourage you to ask yourself:

Is there a burden you're currently compounding by worrying about its potential permanence?

If so, consider this your permission (ok, gentle nudge ☺) to set aside your hypothetical concerns about the future and direct that energy toward caring for yourself in the here and now.

As always, don’t hesitate to reach out if there’s any way I can support you in take that step.

Until then, know that I am rooting for you.

With love,

Jordana