Let down again..

Today’s journal goes something like this.

I feel let down again.

Over the past 24 hours, I expected to receive the final files ready to upload. I was waiting, trying to hold my patience, trying to trust the process, trying to believe that this final stage would finally be straightforward.

But once again, I had to remind them that I was waiting.

Then I discovered something unbelievable.

They had created a separate cover file and inside pages file, but somehow doubled up the front cover and back cover — with two different versions.

Two different versions.

How does that even happen at the final stage?

And the only reason I caught it was because I asked what I thought might be a stupid question. But it wasn’t stupid. It was the question that saved me from uploading the wrong files.

If this process has taught me anything, it is that I can no longer hand over my trust simply because someone calls themselves an expert.

I have spent so much of this project thinking other people must know better than me. The formatter, the freelancer, the people who say they understand publishing files and book layout and print requirements.

But again and again, I have had to notice the problems. I have had to ask the questions. I have had to check the details. I have had to protect the book.

And now I see something very clearly.

I am not helpless here.

I may still be learning the technical side. I may not know every setting or file requirement yet. But I know this book. I know when something looks wrong. I know when something does not make sense. I know the story, the pages, the covers, the order, the feeling, the intention.

I am the one carrying the whole vision.

Maybe that is the lesson.

I thought I was hiring experts because I was not expert enough. But this process has shown me that expertise without care, attention, and communication is not enough.

The true expert on this book is me.

Not because I know everything.

But because I care enough to keep asking.

Because I notice.

Because I do not stop at “that will do” when something feels wrong.

Because I am the author, the creator, the protector, and the final gatekeeper of this little world.

I feel disappointed. I feel angry. I feel tired.

But underneath that, I feel something else too.

I feel stronger.

This process has shaken my trust in others, but it has strengthened my trust in myself.

And maybe that is the gift hidden inside this very frustrating lesson.