a dance with the (un)certainties of life
[ navigating change as a woman in her mid-20s ]
there’s an (un)certainty that is felt in the in-between spaces. you know, those moments where everything feels like it’s shifting—where you’re not quite sure where you’re going, but you still somehow keep moving. it’s not always comfortable. in fact, more often than not, it feels like a tightrope walk between the past and what’s to come, trying to find a foothold in the unknown.
right now, i’m in one of those moments. my lease is ending. i’m planning to move to a new city. a place i’ve never called home, but where i feel i need to be. as i plan to pack up my apartment, wrapping my life into boxes and getting ready to leave behind the familiar, there’s this deep vulnerability in the process. i feel exposed, raw even. it’s one thing to make the decision to move, to take a leap of faith, but it’s another thing entirely to actually step into it.
i’ve created a life here—family, friends, familiarity where i’ve created moments of calm and peace in the chaos of life. saying goodbye to this space which is all i’ve known for 10+ years stirs up this odd mix of excitement, grief, and fear. i can feel the pull of both—the compulsion to stay and the desire to go.
figure 1: stepping into the unknown now creates ripples of change for your future
there’s uncertainty in this moment. i don’t know what the next chapter will bring, what it will feel like to settle into a new city and create a new life for myself. i don’t know if the place i’m going will be everything i hope it will be or if i’ll find myself feeling just as uncertain. but as i sit with this discomfort, i remind myself that uncertainty is just another part of the process. it’s part of the journey of growth. it’s about giving yourself permission to feel uncertain, to not have everything figured out, and to trust that the process will lead you where you’re meant to go—even if you can’t see it right now.
lately, i’ve committed to living and not letting worry become my frequency. i’ve spent time with my family, went wine tasting with friends, and grounded my being before having to pack everything up. as i sit in my bed writing this, with the rain gently showering the earth outside, i find comfort in the grace i’ve known during times of change in the past. this isn’t the first time i’m experiencing change and it won’t be the last. i can spend so much energy trying to control the process—trying to know what’s next, trying to make it all make sense. but as the days tick by and the reality of moving is just so much more real (t-minus 27 days), i’m starting to soften into the uncertainty. i’m letting go of the need to have everything figured out, and that in itself feels like a form of freedom.
figure 2: a reminder
the truth is, there's no perfect formula for handling the messiness of life. and i'm tired of the idea that this kind of uncertainty is limited to any specific age. it's not a '20s thing.' people in their 30s, 40s, and beyond are navigating change, too. it doesn't end with a stable career or a forever home. but i'm learning it's okay to step forward, even without a clear view of the path. it's okay to feel vulnerable and unsure, and still move. i don’t need everything perfectly aligned to make it work. i just need to trust myself, and trust that change is guiding me where i need to be.
and within all the uncertainty, there are certainties. the certainty of my breath, the certainty of the sun rising, and the certainty of my own internal compass. the certainty of my own resilience, and the knowledge that i can find my way, even in the dark. the truth that i will always be taken care of. these small, consistent truths are the anchors in the shifting sands. vulnerability is a gift, i think, because it’s teaching me how balance doesn’t come from having everything under control. balance comes from being willing to let go, to flow with the changes, and to be present with what’s unfolding. as i prepare to leave one chapter and step into another, i realize that this balance—this peace i’m searching for—will not come from certainty in external circumstances. it will come from my capacity to accept the unknown, while holding onto the internal certainties, and trust that even in the vulnerability of change, i am exactly where i need to be.
how have you navigated these vulnerable moments of change in your own life? how do you find balance when the path isn’t clear?
let me know your thoughts—i’m learning that the journey is so much richer when we share it together.
take a listen to a song that came into my reality recently and that i resonate with deeply:
