Why You’re Exactly Where You Need to Be
Some seasons feel still. Others feel stormy. And sometimes, even with a passport full of stamps, you feel a little… lost. But here’s the gentle truth I’ve come back to again and again on the road: you’re not behind. You’re not off track. You’re exactly where you need to be—even if it doesn’t look how you imagined. The unfolding is happening. And you’re in the middle of something sacred.
Growth Doesn’t Always Look Like Movement
Sometimes the biggest shifts happen in stillness. In those quiet weeks when you’re not sure what’s next. When you’re not checking things off. That pause might just be the transformation beginning to root itself.
After months of moving from city to city, I once spent three slow weeks in Tbilisi. No big trips, no bold leaps. Just mornings in the same café, afternoons wandering familiar streets, evenings writing in my journal. At first, I felt guilty, like I was wasting time. But slowly, I noticed something: my mind was catching up to my body. The lessons of the past months were sinking in. My creativity returned. My nervous system softened.
Growth isn’t always a sprint forward. Sometimes it’s a pause, a deep inhale before the next step. Stillness gives your roots space to deepen so that when movement comes again, you’re grounded enough to handle it.
If life feels quiet, don’t assume you’re stuck. You might just be in the exact season that’s preparing you for what’s next.
The Detours Always Lead Somewhere Meaningful
Missed buses. Changed plans. A city you almost didn’t visit. Every twist has taught you something. The universe isn’t punishing you—it’s redirecting you. Where you are might not have been the plan—but it’s part of the path.
In Croatia, I once missed a ferry that was supposed to take me to another island. Frustrated, I booked a night in a guesthouse near the port. That evening, sitting on the terrace, the owner invited me to share a meal with her family. We ate grilled fish, laughed in broken conversation, and watched the sun sink over the water. That night turned into one of my most cherished memories of the trip. And it only happened because of the detour.
Life rarely sticks to the itinerary. But if you pay attention, you’ll see that detours often carry the magic you didn’t know you were looking for.
The missed turn, the delayed plan, the unexpected stop—these are not failures. They’re secret doorways into meaning.
You Don’t Need to Be Further Ahead to Be Worthy
You don’t need more followers, more income, more stamps, or more answers to be valid. Your life doesn’t have to look “big” to be beautiful. What you’re doing right now—figuring it out, slowly—is enough.
I remember sitting in a coworking space in Mexico, surrounded by people who seemed to have it all together. Bigger businesses, bigger followings, bigger plans. For a moment, I shrank, convinced I wasn’t enough. But later, walking home through the colorful streets, I caught myself smiling. I had freedom, work I cared about, and the courage to build life differently. That was enough. More than enough.
Comparison tricks us into believing worth lives in the future, in milestones we haven’t reached yet. But worth isn’t conditional. It’s already here.
You don’t have to earn your right to belong in this life. You already do. Right now, in the middle of the becoming.
Clarity Comes From the Journey, Not Before It
You don’t find the “right” life and then start living. You live, and through the process, the path becomes clear. The fog lifts as you walk. So if you’re waiting for full certainty—you’re already missing the magic.
When I first left home to travel, I thought I needed a five-year plan before I could begin. But plans kept shifting—clients came and went, friendships changed, cities surprised me. Clarity didn’t arrive in advance. It revealed itself along the way: in conversations with strangers, in mistakes that taught me resilience, in mornings where I finally felt free.
The truth is, you can’t think your way into clarity. You have to move, try, fail, explore, and let the fog thin as you go.
Waiting for certainty only keeps you standing still. But when you step forward, even unsure, life meets you with the guidance you need.
This Version of You Deserves to Be Loved, Too
Not just the future, accomplished, sorted-out you—but this one. The learning one. The one who feels soft and unsure. You are allowed to belong to yourself, right here, exactly as you are.
One night in Berlin, I sat in my room overwhelmed by how far I thought I still had to go—more work to do, more healing, more proving. My instinct was to reject the version of myself that felt unfinished. But instead, I lit a candle, wrapped myself in a blanket, and whispered: “I love you, even like this.” The release was instant. For the first time, I felt whole, even in the middle of becoming.
We spend so much of life waiting to love ourselves until we’ve arrived somewhere “better.” But growth isn’t linear, and you’ll always be unfolding.
When you choose to love this version—the messy, uncertain, evolving one—you give yourself the grounding to grow into the next. Love doesn’t wait at the finish line. It’s meant to walk with you all the way.
Growth Often Looks Like Letting Go First
We imagine growth as adding—more skills, more experiences, more achievements. But often, it begins with subtraction. Releasing what no longer feels right. Saying no to the thing that weighs heavy. Clearing space so something new has room to arrive.
I felt this once while sitting on a bus, scrolling through old messages from a client who drained me. My chest tightened with every word, and I realized I was carrying work that no longer fit. The brave step wasn’t taking on more. It was letting that contract go. I closed my phone, leaned my head against the window, and allowed myself to breathe. The relief was immediate.
Growth isn’t always visible from the outside. Sometimes it’s quiet, like deleting an app, ending a conversation sooner, or releasing an expectation you’ve been dragging along.
Letting go is growth. It’s the unseen part that makes the visible possible.
The Hard Days Are Part of the Becoming
It’s easy to think growth means feeling better every day. But some days are heavy, lonely, or confusing—and those are the very days shaping you the most.
I remember sitting on the floor of a tiny apartment after a long day of canceled plans and missed connections. My eyes stung with tears, and I thought, “I’m not built for this.” But in the stillness, I realized the moment itself was teaching me resilience. I was learning how to hold myself, how to find softness even in the weight.
Growth isn’t glossy. It isn’t all sunrise hikes and glowing wins. Sometimes it’s crying on the bathroom floor, then getting up the next morning anyway. Sometimes it’s admitting you’re lost, but choosing to keep walking.
The hard days don’t mean you’re failing. They mean you’re in the middle of the becoming. And that is still growth.
Closing Thought
Wherever you are—physically, emotionally, spiritually—you are not too late, too messy, or too lost. You are exactly where you need to be to receive what’s coming next. Trust the season you’re in. Let it shape you. And remember: becoming often feels like standing still—until one day, you realize how far you’ve come.
