Letters to Myself: Entry Thirty-One
Prompt: What I learned from watching people I love choose commitment?
This reflection is on what commitment really means, learned not through theory, but through watching the people I love choose faith, patience, and consistency in their lives.
Commitment is a unique and deeply personal concept. It’s not something that can be defined in a single sentence, it’s something that’s lived. For me, commitment has always been closely tied to faith: faith in people, in ideas, in routines and sometimes in something greater than myself.
As I reflect on this, I realize how many forms commitment can take. For example, I go to the gym every day. That’s my commitment to myself, my mental health, my physical strength, my confidence. It helps me manage anxiety, release stress and prepare myself for the challenges life inevitably brings. That daily choice is an act of care. It’s love expressed through consistency.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to understand that commitment is woven into nearly every part of our lives. We commit to relationships, to beliefs, to work, to passions. We commit to people without always realizing it. And one of the most meaningful lessons I’ve learned is that people show their commitment through action, not words.
Watching others commit, to partners, to families, to culture, to faith, has humbled me. Their devotion challenges me to reflect on my own life and ask whether I’m giving the same level of care and intention to the things and people I value. Commitment, at its core, is a form of love. It’s choosing something again and again, without expecting anything in return.
Some of the most powerful examples I’ve witnessed come from people rooted deeply in their culture. Their commitment to heritage, tradition and belief systems carries a reverence that’s both grounding and inspiring. It reminds me that commitment is not passive, it’s practiced.
I’ve also learned this through friendships. A close friend once shared his love for soccer with me, a sport I had never truly paid attention to before. Through his passion and patience, I began to understand the game, its history and its global importance. That shared commitment created a bond. Years later, I still follow the team he introduced me to. That’s what commitment does, it invites others into something meaningful and builds connection through shared experience.
Watching couples choose each other over time has taught me just as much. I’ve seen relationships endure not because they were easy, but because both people showed up with patience, respect and grace. Commitment doesn’t mean the absence of struggle. It means choosing to stay present through it.
For a long time, seeing others reach milestones, engagements, marriages, long-term partnerships, triggered self-doubt in me. But I’ve learned to reframe that reaction. Those moments aren’t reminders of what I lack; they’re proof that commitment, love and partnership are possible. They’re victories worth celebrating, especially for others.
I used to struggle with believing in goodness, both in others and in myself. Looking back, I see those years as necessary chapters. They shaped me. They taught me that commitment can begin at any moment. You can choose something, an idea, a person, a path and give it your full heart starting now.
Commitment requires kindness, respect, patience and humility. Perfection leaves no room for growth, but commitment makes space for evolution. Whatever you choose to commit to, love it openly. Be proud of it. Give yourself fully, even knowing it may hurt. If it does, respond with wisdom, not bitterness.
That’s the beauty of commitment. It asks everything of you, and gives meaning in return.
This post is part of my "Letters to Myself" series — a weekly free-write blog where I explore personal growth, curiosity, and healing through simple prompts. Sometimes reflective, sometimes fun, but always real. Thank you for being here.
References:
Photo by Kyle Gare
