There is something beautiful about not being exactly where you want to be yet. I think we spend so much of our lives trying to arrive somewhere. We want to feel confident, settled, successful, healed, certain. We imagine there is some version of ourselves waiting on the other side of all of this. We tell ourselves that once we reach a certain goal, get the job, finish school, move somewhere new, feel more confident, then we will be able to relax and enjoy where we are. But the more I think about it, the more I wonder if we are missing something by always looking toward the next destination.

This raises a question for me: What if the space between where I am and where I’m going is actually where some of the beauty lives?

I have been thinking about how much freedom there can be in knowing that I am still becoming. I do not have to have the perfect answer today, and I do not have to know exactly where I will be a year from now. I can change my mind. I can outgrow things I once wanted. I can discover new parts of myself that I did not even know were there. I can be proud of how far I have come while still wanting something different. Those things can exist together. I do not have to choose between appreciating who I am now and being excited about who I might become.

‍

When Growth Doesn't Look Like Progress

For a long time, I think I was used to having a pretty clear next step. Graduate school was a good example of that. There was always another semester, another assignment, another requirement, another goal to work toward. Then I finished, and life continued. There was no single moment where everything suddenly made sense or where I felt like I had officially become the person I was supposed to be. If anything, finishing one chapter created more space to wonder what I actually wanted next. It reminded me that reaching one destination does not mean you stop growing. There is always another layer of yourself to discover.

I think we put a lot of pressure on ourselves to make progress look obvious. We want to be able to point to something and say, “See, I made it.” We want our growth to be measurable and our lives to make sense from the outside. But so much of becoming does not look like progress while we are actually experiencing it. Sometimes it looks like uncertainty. Sometimes it looks like changing your mind, taking a step backward, resting, questioning something you once felt certain about, or realizing that the path you worked so hard to get onto is no longer the path you want to stay on. It can be difficult to trust that something meaningful is happening when you cannot clearly see the outcome.

I think that is part of why being in the middle can feel so uncomfortable. There is not always a clear way to know if we are doing it right. We can know that something is no longer working without knowing what should replace it. We can recognize that we have changed without knowing exactly who we are becoming. We can want something different without having the words to explain what that something is. We often want clarity before we give ourselves permission to move forward, but sometimes clarity only comes after we allow ourselves to move.

I used to think that not knowing meant I was behind. Now I am trying to see it differently. Maybe not knowing means there is still room for something new. There are things about myself that I know now that I could not have known a few years ago. There are things I want now that I did not know I wanted then, and there are things I once thought would matter to me that simply do not anymore. I think that is a natural part of growing. We are allowed to become people who want different things than we used to.

‍

Becoming Happens in the Quiet Moments

Becoming also tends to happen much more quietly than we expect. It happens in the small decisions we make when no one else is watching. It happens when we finally set a boundary we have been afraid to set, when we communicate something instead of keeping it inside, when we choose rest instead of pushing ourselves past our limits, or when we stop trying so hard to be understood by everyone around us. It happens when we begin trusting our own judgment a little more. Looking back, we might recognize these moments as significant, but while we are living them, they often just feel like ordinary parts of life.

Maybe that is why I want to get better at paying attention to the process instead of only focusing on the outcome. It is so easy to look at my life through the lens of what is missing. What do I still need to accomplish? What should I have figured out by now? What needs to change? Where should I be instead? There will probably always be answers to those questions. There will always be another goal, another area to improve, another version of life that looks slightly better from where I am standing. If I am not careful, I can spend so much time thinking about where I am headed that I forget to actually experience where I am.

There is a difference between wanting more for yourself and believing that you are not enough as you are. I think that distinction matters. I can have goals and still appreciate my life. I can want to grow without treating myself like a project that needs to be fixed. I can look forward to what is next without making the present something I need to rush through. I can recognize the parts of myself that still need care without deciding that those parts make me inadequate.

Maybe becoming is not about eventually reaching some perfect, finished version of ourselves. Maybe it is about getting to know ourselves well enough to recognize what feels true as our lives change. It is asking what I actually want, what feels meaningful to me, what I am holding onto because I genuinely want it, and what I might be holding onto simply because it is familiar. Sometimes those questions have clear answers, and sometimes they do not. Sometimes the answer changes. That does not mean I was wrong before. It just means I am different now.

‍

Leaving Room for Life to Surprise You

There are experiences I have not had yet that may change what I want. There are people I have not met who may teach me something about myself. There are places I have not been, things I have not tried, and versions of myself I have not met yet. I find something comforting about remembering that. I do not have to have my entire life mapped out in order to trust that I am moving forward. I can leave room for my life to surprise me.

I also do not want to spend so much time waiting for the next version of my life that I miss the one I am living right now. I do not want to look back someday and realize that I was so focused on becoming that I never let myself simply be. There are things about this season of my life that I may not fully appreciate until it is over, which makes me want to slow down enough to notice them now.

I think there is beauty in being somewhere between who you were and who you are becoming. It is not always comfortable, and it does not always feel exciting, but it is where so much of life actually happens. It is where we learn, change, question, experiment, let go, and begin again. We do not need to have everything figured out before we are allowed to enjoy ourselves along the way.

Maybe I am learning that there is no final version of me that I need to hurry toward. There is just this ongoing process of growing, learning, changing, and becoming more myself. I can be uncertain and still be moving forward. I can be proud of how far I have come and still have somewhere I want to go. I can appreciate where I am without pretending it is where I will always be.

The beauty of not being where you are going is that you get to enjoy the process of becoming. You get to discover things you could not have planned for. You get to change your mind. You get to surprise yourself. You get to meet new versions of yourself along the way.

And maybe instead of constantly asking myself, “When will I finally get there?” I can start asking, “Who am I becoming along the way?”

Maybe that question is enough to keep me curious about what comes next, while still allowing me to appreciate where I am right now.