Tag: Becoming

  • Not Everyone Can Walk with You into Your Becoming

    Not Everyone Can Walk with You into Your Becoming

    There comes a point in your journey where your growth becomes too loud to ignore. Where your softness can no longer be mistaken for weakness. Where your soul starts shedding what no longer fits—not because it’s unkind, but because it’s misaligned.

    This is the part they don’t prepare you for.

    Not everyone can walk with you into your becoming.

    Some people are attached to the version of you that never said no. The version that bent over backwards. The one that tolerated crumbs, overlooked patterns, or kept the peace at the expense of her own.

    But becoming is disruptive.

    It reorders the entire room.

    It asks you to choose peace over people-pleasing.

    And in doing so, it naturally reveals who was only comfortable with your silence—not your truth.

    This kind of growth feels like grief. Not because you’re doing something wrong—but because you’re doing something right. You’re honoring the version of you that was always quietly waiting to be chosen by you.

    Letting go doesn’t always come with closure. Sometimes the closure is realizing that you kept the door open for people who were never planning to meet you on the other side.

    And that’s okay.

    Because this chapter isn’t about proving your worth. It’s about protecting it. It’s about becoming the kind of woman who no longer performs for proximity or settles for companionship that costs her clarity. It’s about walking away with your head high and your heart soft—knowing that your becoming will require you to outgrow what once felt like home.

    Let it.

    Let it shape you.

    Let it stretch you.

    Let it show you who’s really capable of loving you through your evolution.

    Because the ones who are meant to walk with you won’t need to be convinced. They’ll rise to meet you. Or they’ll fall away with grace.

    And both are a blessing.

  • You’re Allowed to Be New Here: Walking into Your Next Chapter Without Apology

    You’re Allowed to Be New Here: Walking into Your Next Chapter Without Apology

    There’s something sacred about standing at the threshold of a new chapter.

    Not the polished part—when you’ve already figured it out and found your footing—but the raw, uncertain beginning. The part where your voice still trembles when you speak about your dreams. Where you’re not quite fluent in your next level, but you showed up anyway.

    This is your reminder:

    You are allowed to be new here.

    You are allowed to not know all the answers.

    You are allowed to ask questions, take your time, shift directions, or admit you don’t know what you’re doing yet. You are allowed to grow slowly and still be powerful.

    We live in a culture that romanticizes mastery but forgets that every expert was once a beginner.

    There is no shame in being new. What’s brave is showing up when you don’t feel fully ready. What’s sacred is the willingness to try—knowing there will be stumbles, redirections, and lessons along the way.

    Release the Shame of Reinvention

    Sometimes we carry shame for evolving.

    We worry about what people will say when we change course, update our brand, speak more softly, or walk differently than we used to. We fear that starting over makes us look uncertain or inconsistent.

    But soft power doesn’t look like staying in the same version of yourself forever.

    Soft power is the ability to honor where you are, to flow with grace, to pivot without guilt. It’s trusting that alignment sometimes requires an exit. It’s knowing you were never meant to stay small just to appear certain.

    Give Yourself Permission to Take Up Space

    Being new does not make you any less worthy.

    You don’t have to minimize yourself, overexplain, or seek permission to evolve. You’re allowed to enter new rooms without credentials. You’re allowed to try new art forms, launch new businesses, or speak on things you’re still learning. You’re allowed to be both powerful and unfinished.

    This is your permission slip to be seen—exactly as you are.

    You don’t need to have it all figured out to be valid.

    You don’t have to walk into your next chapter with perfect posture.

    You just need to be willing to keep walking.

    A Sacred Start

    Let this be a sacred start, not a secret one.

    You don’t owe the world a perfect version of your transformation—you only owe yourself the truth. And the truth is: something in you knows it’s time.

    Time to stop rehearsing your next move and start living it.

    Time to stop apologizing for your growth and start honoring your emergence.

    You are not behind.

    You are not too late.

    You are not “too much” for this beginning.

    You are simply… new.

    And there is power in that.

    🌸Your softness is sacred—even in your becoming. Take up space. Start where you are. Then let it unfold.

  • What It Means to Be in a Season of Becoming

    What It Means to Be in a Season of Becoming

    Becoming isn’t always beautiful.

    It’s not always soft music and sunrise journaling.

    Sometimes it’s crying in the shower, questioning everything, feeling like you’re floating between two worlds—no longer who you were, not yet who you’re becoming.

    But that’s exactly what this is:

    The season of becoming.

    The sacred in-between.

    No map. No clear answers.

    Just you. And God. And the whisper that says:

    Keep going. Something is unfolding, even if you can’t name it yet.

    Becoming is the undoing.

    It’s shedding layers that used to protect you.

    It’s releasing identities you outgrew but held onto out of comfort.

    It’s grieving old versions of yourself while still unsure of the new ones.

    And it’s hard.

    It’s confusing.

    It’s holy.

    Because becoming isn’t about achievement. It’s about alignment.

    Here’s what being in a season of becoming really looks like:

    You start feeling misaligned in spaces you used to tolerate.

    You stop rushing to fix things and start sitting with what is.

    Your prayers shift from “Give me clarity” to “Help me trust the unknown.”

    You release timelines. You question roles.

    You soften your grip.

    It’s a season where the outcomes don’t make sense yet—

    but the inner shifts are undeniable.

    It’s a season where the outcomes don’t make sense yet—

    but the inner shifts are undeniable.

    If you’re here right now, try this:

    1. Honor the unraveling.

    Instead of asking “What’s wrong with me?” try:

    “What part of me is evolving?”

    2. Write a letter titled “I Don’t Have to Know Yet.”

    Let yourself express all the uncertainty without needing a solution.

    This is about voice, not fixing.

    3. Create a Becoming Box.

    Fill it with items, quotes, and reminders that anchor you in this liminal space.

    A journal. A candle. A photo. Something that reminds you you’re still whole—even mid-transition.

    The season of becoming is not the pause between two real chapters.

    It is the chapter.

    It’s where the courage is built.

    It’s where the softness becomes strength.

    It’s where your roots deepen in the dark before you ever bloom in the light.

    So if you feel lost right now, just know:

    You’re not lost. You’re becoming.

    Let it be messy. Let it be unclear.

    Let it stretch you.

    Because the woman you’re becoming?

    She’s already unfolding.

    And she’s worth every ounce of grace you can give yourself in this sacred middle.