Let me pipe up real quick.

It was that late-night kind of quiet—the one where the world’s asleep but your mind won’t stop pacing.
I pulled up to RaceTrac, not really hungry, just needing… something.
A little sugar. A little joy. A small win to carry me through the rest of the night.

Inside, it was still and humming—those overhead lights buzzing like they’d rather be off.
I drifted through the aisles slow, letting the cold from the coolers bite at my arms.
Then I saw it.

What I thought was a Mexican honey bun.
Thick. Golden. Iced. Or so it seemed.
It was sitting in the baked goods tray like it had something to prove.
Two for $3, the tag said. That felt like the universe nodding at me.
Grabbed one. Fountain drink in the other hand.
Stepped outside, sat at one of those metal tables out front like I had just found my little corner of peace.

Unwrapped it slow.
Took a bite.

And instantly got humbled.

It wasn’t iced.
It wasn’t sweet.
And it damn sure wasn’t a honey bun.

It was a concha.

I didn't even know what the hell that was. Now I do.
A dry, confusing, bread-disguised-as-dessert type of betrayal.

I sat there still chewing, staring at the wrapper like it owed me an apology.
And it hit me: life really be conchas sometimes.
Dressed up. Sitting pretty.
But empty on the inside.
No icing. No warmth. Just BAD vibes and disappointment.

I ain’t mad though. It reminded me of something deeper.
Most people don’t let you see what’s under the glaze.
They show you the shine, the label, the “everything’s good” act.
And then you bite in—into friendships, relationships, business deals, chances—and you realize,
Oh… this ain't what I thought.

And maybe you even finish it.
Not because it’s good.
But because you already paid the price.
You already sat down. Already committed.
You don’t want to walk away empty-handed.

But man… I’m learning it’s okay to not finish things just because you started them.
It’s okay to spit it out.
Push the plate away.
Say, nah, this ain't feeding me.

But here's the part that stings deeper—
It’s when you do get tricked, when you fall for the glaze and end up with crumbs in your lap,
That’s when the fake loved ones and quiet haters perk up.
They been waiting.
To laugh.
To point fingers.
To say “I told you so” like that somehow makes them wise.
And yeah, it hurts.
Because it don’t just feel like you made a bad call—
It starts feeling like you are the bad call.
Like you're the failure.

But you’re not.
Nah.
They just laugh loud to drown out their own disappointment.
They mock your concha because it’s easier than facing their own.
They tuck their mess behind sarcasm and smirks,
But trust me—they’ve bitten into worse.

So I say… let them laugh.
Let them hide.
But don’t you hide from your own growth.
This moment don’t define you.
It refines you.

I used to think endurance meant swallowing whatever life served, no matter the taste.
But now I think wisdom is knowing what to starve.

So no, I didn’t eat the rest of that concha.
I sat for a minute, drank my soda, and let the breeze hit me.
And I thought about how many times I’ve picked up things that looked good on the outside
But left me dry and disappointed on the inside.

People, plans, pleasures…
Sometimes even your own dreams come wrapped in the wrong flavor.

And that’s part of it.
You learn.
You adjust.
You stop reaching for every shiny wrapper that promises sweetness.

So here’s my little reminder to you—
Not everything that glitters is iced.
Not every opportunity is for your good.
Not every person who smiles is sweet.
And not every night snack is a win.

But even the missteps carry meaning.
Even the dry bites make you more mindful.
Even the disappointment trains your discernment.

Next time you crave something, take a pause.
Check it twice. Ask yourself if it’s really what you need.
And if you still take a bite and get let down—
Don't beat yourself up.
Just call it what it is.
A concha moment.
Then move on.

Because peace?
Peace ain’t in the sugar rush.
It’s in knowing you don’t gotta swallow everything life hands you.
You can sit, sip your drink, and choose something better next time.

Remember, we all carry something, but here you don't have to carry it alone,

Pipe up.

If you are enjoying these Reflections, you can do some reflections of your own with our FREE download Reflections Journal. [FREE DOWNLOAD]

More Reflections:

Not Finding Your Next Read? Try looking through ALL OF THEM: