The Quiet Work of Blooming

I love orchids. They remind me of home, of resilience, of beauty that dares to bloom in unexpected ways. There’s something about them—the way the colors melt into one another, the lightness of their petals juxtaposed against their defiant stance. Orchids don’t just sit quietly in the background. They show up, fully, boldly. “I’m here,” they seem to say.

And yet, for years, I never dared to buy one. Every orchid I’d ever cared for had wilted under my watch. Too much water, too little light, too much attention, not enough patience. I had convinced myself that orchids and I weren’t meant to be.

Until last Mother’s Day. A tiny orchid, a gift. It was beautiful. But, as expected, its blooms eventually faded, leaving behind nothing but bare stems—a shadow of what once was. It sat there, day after day, a quiet reminder of what used to be. A small part of me wondered if this was just another inevitable loss, another quiet confirmation that orchids weren’t for me.

But this time, something shifted. Instead of giving up, I chose to believe. I watered it, not out of certainty, but out of hope. I tended to it, not because I saw signs of life, but because I wanted to. I stayed consistent—not perfectly, but faithfully. And then, weeks later, something miraculous happened: it bloomed again.

Orchids have this way of reminding us of the things we forget. Growth happens in the unseen spaces. Strength is built in seasons of waiting. And belief—real, deep, gut-wrenching belief—isn’t about having proof. It’s about showing up anyway.

There are seasons in life that feel like bare stems—seasons of confusion, chaos, and adversity, where it seems like nothing is happening, where we wonder if all the effort is even worth it. But just because you can’t see the growth doesn’t mean it’s not happening. Just because you’re in the middle of uncertainty doesn’t mean you’re lost. Keep watering. Keep showing up. Keep believing. The bloom is coming.

#BelieveyAdelante