We Are Still Becoming

This morning I was listening to something about belief, persistence, the power of our thoughts, and continuing forward even when it feels like we are walking alone.

Something in it stayed with me.

Our mind is the gateway. What we focus on, we get more of.

I started thinking about how much attention we can give to what is wrong. What somebody else is doing. What didn't work out. What we regret. What we're afraid might happen. What we wish we could change.

And I thought about something I've been practicing more intentionally in my own life:

Telling myself the truth and taking responsibility for myself.

My choices. My reactions. My boundaries. What I focus on. And most importantly, what I do next.

I can't control what other people do. I can't control whether they understand me, agree with me, support me, or believe in me.

But I can be responsible for me.

There is freedom in that.

Belief Is Something We Grant Ourselves

We can spend so much time waiting for permission.

Permission to change. Permission to dream bigger. Permission to start again. Permission to forgive ourselves. Permission to become someone we've never been before.

But I'm learning that belief is something we grant ourselves.

I am the permission.

That doesn't mean I don't need other people. Quite the opposite.

I need the women in my life who love me enough to tell me the truth and hold space for me while I figure things out.

This morning, I started thinking about the women I have walked beside for many years.

We have shared our lives.

We know each other's mistakes, fears, and regrets. We've watched one another fall down, get back up, change, grow, grieve, heal, struggle, and begin again.

I don't walk beside other women because I have life figured out.

I don't.

I'm still learning. I'm still practicing. I'm still becoming.

Today I decided to send individual text messages to some of the women in my life. Not a group text. I thought about each woman individually—where she is, what we've walked through together, what I love about her, and what I wanted her to know.

Nearly every one of them responded with such gratitude.

It reminded me of something so simple:

Tell people you care about them. Don't assume they know.

Holding Space for One Another

As women, we don't always need to fix each other.

Sometimes we can't.

Sometimes there aren't any words that will make something better.

Holding space can simply mean:

I see you.

I'm thinking about you.

You don't have to have everything figured out.

I'm still here.

I believe in you.

And sometimes it means saying:

If you can't believe in yourself today, borrow some of my belief in you until you can.

That doesn't mean carrying another woman's life for her. It means walking beside her while she carries her own.

There's a difference.

I want women in my life who are willing to show up for themselves.

Not perfectly.

Not every day with a smile on their face.

Not pretending everything is wonderful when it isn't.

I mean women who keep coming back to themselves.

Women who tell themselves the truth. Women who take responsibility. Women who ask for help. Women who rest when they genuinely need to rest. Women who get back up.

Women who can say:

This road is hard right now, but I'm not giving up on myself.

Those are my kind of women.

This Journey Isn't a Race

Somewhere along the way, we started acting like we're supposed to arrive.

But arrive where?

There is no finish line where suddenly we've mastered life.

We will never perfect this journey. We're supposed to experience it.

Some stretches of the road are beautiful and smooth. The sun is shining, the view is incredible, and everything seems to be falling into place.

Enjoy those stretches.

Breathe them in. Be grateful.

Don't rush past the good because you're already worried about the next hill.

And then there are the climbs.

Those long, steep climbs where you wonder how much farther you have to go. Sometimes you can't even see the top.

Keep going.

Maybe today you take ten steps. Maybe tomorrow you take two. Maybe you need to sit down on the side of the road for a while and catch your breath.

Resting isn't quitting.

And when you finally reach the top, stop for a minute.

Look back.

Look how far you've come.

Look at the woman who made that climb.

Then breathe it in.

Eventually there will be another hill. That's life.

But the hills are teaching us too.

The difficult stretches can show us things about ourselves that the easy roads never could. They teach us perseverance, surrender, and gratitude. They show us who we can count on.

And sometimes, most importantly, they teach us that we can count on ourselves.

Keep Showing Up

Life is short.

Far too short to keep shrinking ourselves.

Far too short to withhold love because we assume somebody already knows how we feel.

I want to surround myself with women who are showing up for themselves.

Women who aren't giving up when the road gets bumpy or when those long climbs seem like they're going to last forever.

Women who understand that we can love and support one another without fixing one another.

Women who celebrate each other's smooth roads and sit beside each other during the climbs.

Women who remind one another:

Keep going.

You're learning.

You're growing.

You're becoming.

And when one of us forgets, the rest of us can hold space until she remembers.

Our minds are powerful.

What we focus on matters.

What we tell ourselves matters.

What we believe about ourselves matters.

So tell yourself the truth.

Take responsibility for your life.

Show up for yourself.

Rest when you need to.

Get back up when you can.

And love your people enough to tell them while you have the opportunity.

When you reach one of those beautiful, smooth stretches of road, don't immediately start worrying about the next hill.

Stop.

Look around.

Breathe it in.

Be grateful for where you are, where you've been, and even for some of those hard climbs that taught you things about yourself you may never have learned any other way.

Because this is your life.

Not just the destination.

Not just the mountaintop.

The entire journey.

And every bit of it is teaching you something about the woman you are becoming.

I'm still learning.

I'm still practicing.

I'm still becoming.

We all are.

Keep believing. Keep showing up. Keep becoming.

You don't need permission.

You are the permission.