Living in the In-Between
04 Sep 2025
I’m at a place where I really don’t know what the future holds. There are so many plans in my head, so many things I want to do, and yet everything feels paused — half-finished, half-waiting.
My business is ready. All it takes is one signature to make the license official. But I’ve been holding back, leery of stepping forward before the divorce is finalized, worried about income and the weight of bills. That hesitation trickles into other parts of my life too. My house reflects it — projects left midstream. A bathroom standing half-demoed. An upstairs patio waiting to be transformed into a reprieve filled with flowers, a pergola, cozy furniture, and a fireplace. A downstairs bathroom that needs finishing. Saltillo tiles that are begging to be cleaned and sealed. The vision is there. The plans are there. But I’m still waiting for the right time to move forward.
And then there’s the personal side. I’m still figuring me out. Do I accept that this is it — just me, alone for the rest of my life — or do I hold space for something more? Emotionally, I feel like I’m getting to a better place. My head feels clearer. But part of me wonders if it’s clarity or just a clever way of blocking certain things, keeping myself from fully feeling them. I’m good at that — too good sometimes.
But maybe this is what this season is supposed to look like. A pause. A half-finished chapter. A moment to breathe in the middle space before deciding what comes next. The house will get finished. The tiles will shine. The business will launch. And I will keep walking forward, one step at a time, toward whatever future is waiting for me.
For now, I’m learning to live in the in-between — not rushing, not forcing, just trusting that the unfinished parts of life don’t make me incomplete. They simply mean the story isn’t over yet.
🌿 Reflection
Sometimes waiting feels like wasted time, but maybe it’s really a mirror. In the pause, I start to notice the thoughts I avoid, the emotions I push down, and the resilience I didn’t realize I had. Waiting reveals my impatience, but it also uncovers my endurance. It forces me to sit with myself when there’s no distraction of “what’s next” — and in those quiet moments, I learn who I am without the noise of constant forward motion.
Maybe the gift of waiting is not just patience, but clarity. It’s in the stillness that I can hear my own voice a little more clearly, and it’s in that space that I can begin to choose what I really want — not just what comes next.
✨ Blog Prompt
“What does waiting teach me about myself?”
