Living Without Answers

What are you most worried about for the future?

Right now, the biggest worry in my life is income—or rather, the lack of it. With the cost of living rising every month, each day feels like walking a tightrope. I find myself doing the mental math every morning: what bills are due, how much money is left, what can be cut back on again.

Adding to this stress is the situation with my son, who had been working and building his life abroad. It was a point of pride, and even a source of quiet comfort, knowing he was forging his path. But life threw us a curveball. Due to immigration rule changes, he had to leave the country after his PG course and one year of work in a government hospital there, since there was no work visa sponsorship—and now, he’s out of work, unsure of how to return or what the next step should be. The sense of powerlessness—for him and for me—is something I’ve never quite felt before.

And then there’s the question of owning a home. I’ve always dreamed of having a place to call truly mine. Somewhere secure, where the fear of being asked to leave wouldn’t hang over my head. But right now, that dream feels distant, even impossible. Without a steady income, the idea of saving for a home, feels like climbing a mountain with no end in sight.

These worries aren’t unique. I know so many others around the world are living through similar situations. But that doesn’t make it easier. What does help, sometimes, is simply acknowledging it—putting these thoughts into words. It makes the fear feel a little less overwhelming when it’s written down rather than just echoing in my head.

Still, in all this uncertainty, I try to hold onto small things:

• A word from my son, reminding me that we’re still in this together.
• The kind words of a relative.
• A quiet moment with a cup of tea when the house is still.
• The hope that something will shift—maybe a new job for him, maybe some support for us, maybe even just a better day tomorrow.

I’m writing this not just for myself, but for anyone else who might feel like they’re silently carrying too much. You’re not alone. We’re all trying, in our own ways, to find stability and hope.

If you’ve read this far, thank you. It means something to be heard.

And if you’re in a similar boat—please know that it’s okay to not have all the answers. Sometimes, just putting one foot in front of the other is enough.