My advice to someone to follow in my footsteps is to have

Hear, O seekers of destiny, the words of Christina Milian, who having walked long upon the path of art, proclaimed: “My advice to someone to follow in my footsteps is to have patience. I've been doing this for twelve years.” In this saying lies not the glamour of swift success, but the enduring wisdom of persistence. For she speaks as one who has wrestled with time, who has endured the seasons of waiting, rejection, and slow growth, and who has learned that the crown of achievement is won not in a moment, but through the steady march of years.

For what is patience, if not the shield and companion of every soul who dares to dream? Talent may open a door, luck may grant an opportunity, but only patience carries the spirit across the deserts of delay. Milian’s words are born from the furnace of experience: twelve years of striving, of toil unseen by the world, of effort that ripens only slowly. She warns those who would follow that the path is long and often shadowed, and that without patience, the traveler will falter before the summit is reached.

Consider, O listener, the life of the painter Vincent van Gogh. For years he labored in obscurity, his art misunderstood, his works unsold, his heart heavy with poverty. Yet though the world offered him no reward, he pressed forward with patience, painting the visions that burned within his soul. He did not live to see his triumph, yet today his name is immortal, his works treasured beyond measure. His patience bore fruit, though not in his lifetime—a reminder that endurance is never wasted, even when unseen.

Milian’s testimony also unmasks the illusions of our age. Many believe success comes quickly, that fame is won in a moment, that greatness is born overnight. But the truth is otherwise: behind every shining achievement lies years of unseen labor. The singer who stands in the spotlight has endured countless rehearsals, failures, and disappointments. The leader who commands respect has spent decades honing wisdom. Milian’s twelve years are not an exception, but the rule of life itself: greatness is slow, and patience is its companion.

Patience is not passivity, but a form of strength. To wait with patience is to continue the labor, to endure rejection without despair, to trust that the seeds planted today will one day bloom. Impatience is the enemy of vision, for it demands fruit before the tree has matured, and abandons the work when reward is not immediate. But patience builds roots deep and strong, able to withstand the storms of disappointment until the harvest arrives.

What lesson, then, shall we carry? That if we seek to follow in the footsteps of the great—whether in art, in service, in craft, or in love—we must clothe ourselves in patience. Do not despair if your labor bears little fruit in its early years. Do not abandon your journey when others speed ahead. Instead, endure with steady heart, knowing that each step, though slow, is bringing you closer to the summit. For twelve years, or twenty, or even a lifetime, patience transforms struggle into legacy.

Therefore, O child of tomorrow, let Milian’s counsel be a lamp upon your path: embrace patience as your ally. Work diligently, endure delays, and resist the lure of easy shortcuts. For in the end, it is not speed that crowns a life with greatness, but persistence. And when at last you look back, you will see that the years were not a burden but a blessing, shaping you, refining you, and preparing you to stand tall upon the mountain of your destiny.