From the Desk of Calvin Trieu

Unexplored Letters

What I've Been Reflecting On

What you avoid grows teeth

There’s something I need to admit.

I haven’t been writing these letters.

The last one went out at the end of January. Before that, I had built an eight-week streak I was genuinely proud of. Every week I showed up, wrote, reflected, and sent something into the world.

Then the rhythm broke.

And the strange thing about avoidance is that it doesn’t sit quietly.

It grows teeth.

For the past few months, this newsletter has been sitting in the back of my mind. Not screaming. Not demanding attention. Just… gnawing. A quiet pressure that shows up late at night or in the moments when the day slows down.

Because the truth is the last four months have been difficult.

I’m approaching the one-year mark of being fully self-employed. At the same time, I’m rebuilding life in a new place while working through a PhD. Some days it feels like I’m building three lives at once.

And with that comes uncertainty.

The business is still being built.
My dissertation direction is shifting.
The future is still very much unwritten.

And if I’m being honest, it has been challenging in ways I didn’t expect. There have been nights of insomnia. Moments of doubt. Days where the work feels heavier than usual.

In seasons like this, something interesting happens.

You start avoiding small things.

Not because they’re impossible.
Not because they don’t matter.

But because they quietly remind you of the pressure you’re already carrying.

So instead of writing the newsletter, I told myself I’d do it later.

Next week.
When things settle down.
When I feel clearer.

But the problem with that logic is simple.

If something truly matters to you, it eventually exposes itself in how you spend your time.

Aristotle said it plainly:

We are what we repeatedly do.

So if I repeatedly avoid writing these letters, then the character I claim to have and the actions I’m taking aren’t aligned.

That’s the uncomfortable truth.

And this is where the real lesson lives.

Most of the time we aren’t avoiding the task itself.

We’re avoiding the feeling we think comes with it.

The discomfort.
The doubt.
The embarrassment of showing up imperfectly.

So we delay.

Send the email tomorrow.
Start the project next week.
Have the conversation another time.

But avoidance has a strange way of turning small things into monsters.

Because what you avoid grows teeth.

It sits quietly in the background of your mind, taking up more space than the task itself ever would have.

And ironically, the moment you begin, most of that pressure disappears.

Which brings me here.

Writing this letter.

Not because everything is perfectly figured out, but because the act of showing up matters more than waiting for the perfect moment.

And if you’re reading this, I want to ask you something.

What’s the thing you’ve been avoiding lately?

The email you haven’t sent.
The conversation you’ve been putting off.
The project that keeps tapping you on the shoulder.

The one that quietly sits in the back of your mind.

Name it.

Then ask yourself something simple:

What feeling do I think will come with doing this?

Because chances are, you’re not avoiding the task.

You’re avoiding the story you’ve attached to it.

And if that’s the case, maybe today is a good day to remove its teeth.

Start the thing.

Send the message.
Open the document.
Take the first step.

Not perfectly.

Just honestly.

I’ll be here doing the same.

Journaling Prompt

What is something I’ve been avoiding lately that keeps quietly asking for my attention?

What feeling do I think will come with doing it and is that feeling actually as bad as I imagine?

Talk soon.

Calvin

PS - If this letter resonated with you, I’d genuinely love to hear from you. Hit reply and let me know what it brought up for you.

PPS - And if you’re someone who knows you perform better with structure, accountability, and coaching, I work with a small number of people 1:1 online. If that’s something you’re interested in, you can learn more here.​

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