Halfway Between Lost and Found

Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is admit you're standing at a crossroads.

There’s a funny thing about growth—it doesn’t always arrive with a lesson in hand and a perfectly packaged takeaway. Sometimes, it just shows up as discomfort. As uncertainty. As restlessness in the pit of your stomach that whispers, “Something has to give.”

I’ve written before about some of the most challenging seasons of my life, and how—without fail—those were the very moments that shaped me the most. They were uncomfortable. Unforgiving. At times, even unfair. But in hindsight, they were the fire that forged something stronger in me. Each time, I emerged with more clarity, more resilience, and a deeper understanding of who I am.

But today’s blog isn’t a “lesson learned” piece. It’s not a reflection on a past chapter with a tidy bow wrapped around the moral of the story.

Today, I’m in it.

And I don’t have all the answers.

What I do have is the awareness that something is shifting. That change is on the horizon—whether I like it or not. And the truth is, sometimes the hardest decision isn’t making a change... it’s knowing when it’s time to make one.

The in-between is uncomfortable. It’s filled with “what ifs” and “what nows.” It makes you question things that once felt steady. It challenges your confidence, your direction, and sometimes, even your identity. And yet, somewhere in all that discomfort is the whisper of something greater. A better version of you waiting on the other side. A stronger, more aligned life that you haven’t met yet.

I don’t know what’s next. In any aspect of my life. In my heart. All I know is that I will persevere—because I always do. I will look back at this messy middle and see growth I didn’t even realize was happening. I’ll see the courage it took to stand still when everything inside of me wanted to run. I’ll see the strength it took to admit I was lost before I could ever hope to be found.

Impossible situations are only temporary—because if they weren’t, no one would survive them. So today, I’m leaning into the unknown. I’m giving myself the grace to be unsure. I’m allowing space for whatever is coming next to make its way to me.

And if you’re reading this and find yourself in that same space—just know: you’re not alone. Growth isn’t always loud. Sometimes it looks like showing up, even when you don’t know what for.

So no, I don’t have a tidy ending today. Just honesty. And maybe that’s enough.

Because maybe the real strength is not in the lesson learned, but in the willingness to keep showing up while the lesson is still being written.

And while for the next two days you’ll likely find me curled up in bed with a good book—and maybe a few tears—the discomfort of it all is temporary. The growing pains are real, but they don’t last forever. This season, too, will pass.