There’s a peculiar place we don’t talk about enough—the space after something ends, but before the next thing begins. The in-between. The middle ground. The quiet stretch where life isn’t asking for answers… but it is asking for awareness.
That’s where I am right now.
Not who I used to be.
Not yet who I’m becoming.
Somewhere in the tender, truthful middle.
And instead of rushing through it, I’m learning to look at it.
To ask what this moment is preparing me for.
To notice what my life has already taught me—and how those lessons might be the very foundation of what comes next.
The Lessons
The Experience of Being Different
For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt a little left of centre—like I didn’t quite match the environments I was in.
Which has continued to demonstrate for me that:
Authenticity is non-negotiable.
Belonging that requires self-abandonment isn’t belonging.
Standing apart can be a form of leadership.
Now, I know I’m not building a life that fits a template. I’m building one that fits me.
The Pressure to Become Who Others Needed
There were seasons where I bent myself into shapes that weren’t mine—roles, expectations, identities chosen for acceptance rather than truth.
These seasons taught me:
Approval is a fragile fuel source.
Performing strength is not the same as living it.
Losing yourself is the fastest way to feel alone, even in a room full of people.
Now, I’m committed to creating from who I am—not who I’m expected to be.
The Breakdown of Structures I Once Relied On
Relationships shifted. Foundations cracked. Versions of “home” dissolved. Life rearranged itself without my permission.
Even when it was hard, there were still lessons:
Nothing external guarantees safety.
Endings are often disguised beginnings.
Reinvention is a muscle.
Now, I’m less afraid of change because I’ve already lived through it—and rebuilt from it.
The Long Season of Turning Inward
There were quiet years. Underground years. Times where growth didn’t look loud or visible but was happening beneath the surface.
I learned firsthand:
Transformation rarely looks glamorous.
Stillness is not stagnation.
Depth is earned in the dark.
Now, I trust slow foundations. I trust timing. I trust the unseen work.
The Closing—And Reopening—Of the Heart
There were moments of shutting down. Numbness. Self-protection. Choosing survival over softness.
These moments taught me:
Emotional armor keeps out harm—but it also keeps out connection.
Healing isn’t about going back; it’s about opening forward.
Vulnerability is a strength, not a liability.
Now, I can meet myself, and others, with compassion because I’ve lived the distance—and the return.
The Realisation I Don’t Need to Have It All Figured Out
For a long time, I waited to share until I had answers, clarity, closure. But life has shown me that clarity often arrives after momentum—not before it.
I’ve witnessed:
Curiosity being more powerful than certainty.
Questions opening doors that answers can’t.
Becoming being an ongoing pursuit.
Now, I’m willing to move while becoming—not just after becoming.
So What’s Next?
I don’t have a polished five-step plan or a cinematic “arrival moment.”
But I do have something better:
A foundation built from lived experience.
I know how to:
rebuild after rupture
return to myself
create from truth
stay open while evolving
lead from the middle, not the mountaintop
What comes next will grow from that place—not performance, not perfection, but grounded self-honesty.
The Gift of the In-Between
This middle season isn’t a pause.
It’s preparation.
A quiet recalibration.
A strengthening of roots before the rise.
I used to think purpose lived in certainty. Now I’m starting to see:
Purpose lives in the becoming.
Not once we’ve arrived—but while we’re still on the way.
And right now, I’m on the way.
Rhi xx
