How unclear was born

I am Tedyano Sordam. I was twelve years old when I first discovered climbing, not realizing I had just stepped into a journey that could one day lead me to my dream. I say “could,” because nothing in life is guaranteed.

What started as climbing once a week with my dad on Fridays quickly became twice, then three times a week, and soon enough, it became my obsession. I found myself pulled into the competition world, and year after year, I surprised myself with my results. By my second or third year, I knew I wanted to get serious. I wanted to become one of the best in the world.

I started winning youth championships and told my coach I wanted to take the next step, competing internationally. To do that, I had to join the national youth team, Jong Oranje. My coach recommended me, and we were thrilled to hear I was invited to trial sessions.

It was an amazing opportunity, but after the trials, I faced my first major setback, I was rejected. It hit me hard at first, but I turned that disappointment into motivation. I trained relentlessly, waiting for the next chance.

A year later, my coach recommended me again. This time, I didn’t even get invited to the trials. Another blow. I started questioning if I should keep going. But I chose to continue, and in that moment, I realized just how badly I wanted this.

I trained another full year, pushed myself harder than ever, and again, I was rejected, three years in a row. I didn’t even get to show what I could do. It was crushing. But I had no time to dwell on it, the National Championships were approaching.

That competition changed everything. I made it to the finals and finished 4th, just off the podium. What I didn’t know at the time was that this result qualified me for European Cups. After three years of rejection, I finally achieved my goal.

Apparently, you could qualify for international competitions without being on the national team. I got the chance to compete in three international adult events. I went in with no expectations, just excitement.

In my first comp, I soaked in every moment and finished near the bottom, but it didn’t matter. In my second comp, I topped my first European boulder and climbed a bit higher in the rankings. By my third comp, I came just two places short of the semifinals.

Then, I finally made it into Jong Oranje. I competed in several European Youth Cups, and during one of them, I placed 3rd. A dream come true. After three years of setbacks, I had a year full of miracles.

This past year, I trained harder than ever before, pushing my limits, sometimes too far. I flirted with overtraining and dealt with small injuries, but I felt stronger than ever. I had one goal in mind, but instead of validation, I was met with brutal disappointment.

At the next National Championship, I performed far below my expectations. One competition after another, I kept getting hit, again and again. In one event, I finished 81st, almost 60 places lower than I had two years earlier.

It was painful. It is painful. But through that pain, I discovered something new: a deep obsession with understanding myself. I’ve realized that I learn the most about who I am when everything is falling apart.

And so, I’ve started to embrace the pain. To even enjoy it. Because every struggle reveals a new layer of who I am.

I started to see a pattern. Every time life hit me hard, a quiet miracle followed and things began to fall into place. The harder the hit, the greater the breakthrough. Pain always seemed to unlock something powerful. That’s why I believe in this quote: “A glow stick has to break before it glows.”

And that’s why I created “Unclear.” It’s a celebration of every hard-earned lesson from my journey as a climber. Every shirt I design tells a story, each one a truth I had to learn the hard way.

I know how badly I want to reach the top. I know how deeply I want to grow. And now, I’m not just climbing for victory, I'm climbing to understand myself.