The phrase “existential crisis” is one I’ve heard countless times. Yet the more I reflect on my own journey, the less I believe it is a crisis at all.
Perhaps it’s something far more natural.
Perhaps questioning the meaning, purpose, and value of our existence is an inevitable part of being human.
If that’s true… then maybe it isn’t a crisis.
Maybe it’s an invitation.
According to Britannica, Wikipedia, and BetterUp, an existential crisis is a period of deep inner conflict during which a person questions the meaning, purpose, and value of their existence. Looking back, this perfectly describes my experience throughout the first quarter of 2026.
Although, if I’m being honest, I don’t think this journey began in 2026 – it had been quietly unfolding for much longer. The first quarter of the year was simply its climax 🙌🏾
I can trace the beginning of this process back to the end of 2024 – around that time, the arrest of Sean “Diddy” Combs and the public conversations that followed caused me to think more deeply about celebrity culture, power, and the entertainment industry. Regardless of what ultimately proves true in the legal process, the conversations surrounding the case challenged many of my long-held assumptions about fame and success.
As a fashion designer who had dreamed of building a career within that world for most of my life, I found myself confronting an uncomfortable question: What if the industry wasn’t exactly what I had imagined it to be?
For the first time, I questioned whether all the work I had invested since my teenage years was truly leading me where I wanted to go 🤯
That single question shook the very foundation of my passion.
It challenged my hopes.
It challenged my motivations.
It challenged the story I had been telling myself for years.
Today I recognise that this questioning was necessary.
But while I was living through it…
It was painful.
Eventually, my questions expanded beyond my career. I began questioning almost everything I had previously accepted as truth. Most significantly, I began questioning Christianity and many of the teachings I had grown up with.
In hindsight, this journey probably began when I wrote The Retired Church Girl.
It deepened even further when I was introduced to conversations around Christian deconstruction.For the first time, I discovered a community of people who had also been raised in Christian environments but later chose to leave or re-examine their faith after wrestling with difficult questions, perceived contradictions, or painful experiences within church communities.
Naturally, I found comfort in knowing I wasn’t alone. For the first time, my hidden questions didn’t feel forbidden.
They felt… human.
At the same time, I experienced something that closely resembled grief. I realised I had spent my childhood, teenage years, and much of my adulthood believing that everything I had been taught represented absolute truth. When those certainties began to shift, I felt sadness.
Then confusion.
Then anger.
I found myself asking difficult questions, like: why do people sometimes present certainty where there may be uncertainty?
Why do institutions – religious or otherwise – sometimes fail the very people they seek to serve?
These questions didn’t make me abandon my desire to know God. Instead, they made me desire truth even more deeply. The emotional weight of carrying so many unanswered questions eventually became overwhelming. I felt exhausted. Defeated. Lost. It became fertile ground for another depressive episode. Looking back now, I can only express immense gratitude for my doctors, my support system, and every person who stood beside me during that season. I genuinely don’t know how I would have navigated it on my own.
Today, I write this from the other side. Not because I have found every answer.
I haven’t. In many ways, I suspect I’ll spend the rest of my life searching. But something inside me has changed. I’ve realised that certainty isn’t always found in having every answer. Sometimes certainty comes from having the courage to keep asking honest questions.
To keep seeking.
To keep growing.
To keep living.
I no longer need every mystery to be solved today. I trust that each season will reveal exactly what it is meant to reveal. And perhaps, when my life reaches its final chapter, all the pieces will come together in ways I cannot yet imagine. Until then…
I’ll continue choosing curiosity over fear, growth over certainty, and love over perfection. Because if this journey has taught me anything, it’s that understanding life is a lifelong pursuit – and maybe that’s exactly how it was always meant to be.
Yours (but mine first),
Hmmmmm…mouthful.
Right, sis? I had to take some time to process it all before I could find the right words to express my thoughts. I’d absolutely love to hear what you think too 🤗
Btful. You remind me about my own questions, similar to yours if you change the genre to music; performance, and music production. Similar questions, similar results… no real answer. I wondered if I should look outward or inward. To seek is my natural being which I accepted and made peace with. Had to adopt myself. It took decades before realizing there is no end destination, only the journey. As soon as you arrive at your port of call, you seek again. Always, and more. What will happen if we DID find a final station where the track ends? Will we really be fulfilled? Or was it the journey that brought us joy, meaning and purpose?
Thank you so much for sharing this thoughtful reflection Johan 🙌🏾 I deeply resonate with your conclusion – that perhaps it is the journey, rather than the destination, that shapes us, teaches us, and gives our lives meaning. Your words are a beautiful reminder that seeking isn’t always a problem to solve; sometimes it’s simply part of who we are. I’m grateful my post resonated with your own journey 🤍