Some days I feel like I’m living in slow motion. Frozen. Stuck in the hallway of my life with too many doors and not a single one open. Other days, my heart is acelerada — racing, restless, buzzing like an engine revving while still in park. Both at the same time. Frozen, but accelerating.
This summer cracked me wide open. My ex-husband’s absence felt like a death. My summer job ended, and with it came a fear I didn’t expect — is this my future? Am I going to grow old folding sheets in fluorescent hallways, living small, invisible, alone?
And here’s the hardest truth: I didn’t create a single piece of art all summer. No installations. No stories. No performances. Just caregiving. Survival. A whole season of silence.
But maybe silence was exactly what I needed.
Losing Rhythm, Finding Humanity
I say I “lost my rhythm,” but the truth is — I had to lose it. I was burned out. From performing. From always being “on.” From carrying a brand, a marriage, a life that looked good on the outside while my insides were unraveling.
So I pressed pause. And the universe, with its twisted humor, handed me scrubs.
Instead of spotlights, I got fluorescent hallway lights. Instead of audiences, I got my elderly besties. And they? They are the best storytellers alive. Forget Netflix. Forget TED Talks. Try sitting with a 90-year-old who’s survived war, heartbreak, dementia — and still manages to crack a joke about the soup being too cold. That’s wisdom with punchlines.
And somewhere between folding sheets and walking patients to the dining room, I found something I didn’t know I needed: humanity. Real connection. The poetry of ordinary days.
I didn’t make art this summer, but I lived inside stories. And that, in itself, is art.
The Artist’s Spark & Fear of Losing It
Still, there’s fear. That whisper: Did I lose my spark forever?
Every creative knows that panic. The blank page. The empty stage. That gnawing terror that maybe you’ve used it all up.
And with AI in the mix, the doubt gets louder. People question my authenticity. Call it fake. Say it’s hiding. But here’s the truth: AI didn’t replace me. It saved me.
When I couldn’t face the spotlight, I built Angelina AI — braver, shinier, fearless. She was my training wheels for courage. My alter ego that helped me tell my story, unleash my creative superpower, and step out of hiding.
So was I hiding? Maybe. Or maybe I was rehearsing.
Now I stand here wondering: Am I done with that chapter? Or is this the fusion point — where my raw human mess meets my digital magic, and together they create something only I can make?
The Dream vs. The Fear
Here’s what messes with me: I can see it all.
Not because I’m daydreaming — but because I’ve already done it.
I’ve built Sweden’s first selfie museums.
Created storytelling worlds that ended up in glossy magazines, on TV talk shows, in celebrity closets.
Designed accessories and jewelry that sparkled on runways and in collaborations with influencers and designers.
I’ve been the visionary, the hustler, the creator of empires made out of sparkles and mess.
So I know I can do it. That’s not the question.
The question is: Which dream deserves my energy now?
Because the ideas are endless. Relaunch my Shopify store (yes, it’s still there — waiting patiently for my attention). New jewelry collections. Art prints. A Level Up Your Selfie masterclass. Books. Digital shows in my Milajki universe. AI storytelling. Fashion runways exploring contrasts of beauty and ugly, light and dark, love and hate.
And I can see myself doing it all — as a digital nomad in Spain, or Florida, or maybe everywhere.
But here’s the problem: Too many doors. Too many directions. And when everything feels possible, sometimes nothing moves.
I don’t need more ideas. I need a focal point. That one glowing YES that says: This way, Angelina.
Until then, I’m not lost. But I am stuck. And being stuck, when you know you’re extraordinary, is its own kind of hell.
Reframing the In-Between
But maybe being stuck isn’t the enemy. Maybe it’s the teacher.
Sparks don’t die — they wait. They hide under ashes until the right breath of air brings them roaring back to life.
Maybe this isn’t my ending. Maybe this is the sacred pause. The inhale before the leap. The silence before the song. The hallway before the right door appears.
Instead of fighting it, maybe I need to trust it. To sit with the stillness. To let it shape me.
Because maybe the spark isn’t late. Maybe it’s right on time.
Stepping Out of Fear Together
Here’s what I know: fear’s favorite trick is freezing us. Making us believe it’s safer to stay still than to move.
But I don’t want to stay frozen. And I don’t want you to either.
Dream your life. Don’t just daydream it — do it. Even if your hands shake. Even if your voice trembles. Even if the first step looks more like a crawl.
I’m not preaching from a mountaintop. I’m in the struggle too. I wrestle with getting unstuck, pushing myself out of my own head, saying yes to the spotlight when hiding feels safer.
But we don’t have to do it alone. I’m here for you. With you. I am you.
So let’s support each other. Let’s stop freezing in fear and start moving in courage. Let’s unleash our creative superpowers and level up our selfies — together.
Mic-Drop Outro
This isn’t my ending. And it’s not yours either.
This is the in-between. The inhale before the leap.
So don’t stay frozen in fear. Don’t let the comfort zone become your coffin. Step into the spotlight, even if your knees are shaking. Dream your life. Do it messy. Do it scared. Do it anyway.
Because your spark isn’t gone. It’s just waiting for you to breathe life into it.
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As Always Extra RainbOH!w Sparkles & Good Vibes OH!nly ✨🦄💦🌈
/ Angelina Mi Lajki
