Making Peace with the In-between
This
reflection is part of The Unscripted Self: Notes from the Interior, a series of
honest essays about living without the script, choosing presence over
performance, and staying close to what’s real.
We grow up thinking life happens in
clean lines, with beginnings that feel like fireworks, and endings that wrap up
with meaning, but real life isn’t like that. Most of the time, it’s the
in-between, it is the days that blur together, the waiting without answers, and
the feelings you can’t quite name yet but still carry.
We do not talk enough about the
in-between, the part where you’re not who you used to be, but not quite who you’re
becoming, where the questions are louder than the clarity, where you’re still
figuring out what you need, what you want, and what you’re even doing here.
And it’s hard, because this doesn’t
come with recognition and there’s no big moment to point to. It’s just small
moments like getting out of bed when it’s heavy, saying no when it’s easier to
fold, and choosing not to shut down even when everything in you wants to.
The middle asks you to stay, to hold
your ground when you’d rather run, to breathe through the not-knowing, and to
believe in something better even when it hasn’t shown up yet. It is
uncomfortable, sure, but it’s also where everything changes, where your healing
becomes more than an idea, and where your strength stops being a story and
starts being something you live.
You don’t need to rush this part or
explain it. You’re allowed to be here for as long as it takes. This isn’t the
break between important things, but this is the important thing. Being in the
middle means you haven’t given up, and it also means you’re still trying, still
feeling, still moving forward even when it’s slow.
There is a quiet strength in choosing
not to rush your own transformation and in allowing the incomplete chapters of
your story to take up space and time. It takes courage to remain grounded in
the heart of uncertainty and still decide to be there, fully present. That’s
where something genuine begins to take root.
These
are reflections from the quiet, ongoing work of staying honest with yourself.
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