There was a time when I believed becoming was something that happened after everything else was fixed. After the pain settled. After the habits improved. After the answers arrived. I treated growth like a destination—some future version of myself I would eventually unlock if I worked hard enough, suffered long enough, or proved myself worthy.
But becoming doesn't wait for permission.
It happens quietly, often unnoticed, in the middle of unresolved questions and unfinished healing. It happens while I'm still sruggling, still doubting, still trying to figure out who I am beneath survival mode. This chapter isn't about arrival. It's about acknowledging that the work is already happening—even on days that feel like setbacks.
The Uncomfortable Middle
Becoming is uncomfortable because it lives in the middle.
Not who I was—but not yet who I'm growing into.
It's the tension between old instincts and new awareness. Between reacting and responding. Between wanting immediate clarity and learning to sit with uncertainty. Growth exposes patterns I didn't know were there and forces me to slow down long enough to face them honestly.
Some days, becoming looks like progress.
Other days, it looks like restraint.
And sometimes, it looks like simply not giving up on myself.
Growth That Isn't Loud
There's no dramatic transformation montage here. No overnight redemption arc. Just small, daily moments where I choose awareness over autopilot, humility over defense, and patience over urgency.
I'm learning that healing doesn't always feel empowering. Often, it feels quiet. Subtle. Almost invisible. But invisibility doesn't mean insignificance. Roots grow underground long before anything breaks the surface.
Trusting the Author
Faith, for me, has become less about certainty and more about trust. Trust that God is still shaping me even when progress feels slow. Trust that the delays aren't denials. Trust that the story isn't behind schedule just because it doesn't match my timeline.
"He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion." — Philippians 1:6
That verse doesn't promise speed.
It promises faithfulness.
Still Becoming
This chapter doesn't conclude anything. It simply marks a moment—an awareness that I am actively becoming, even now. Not perfected. Not finished. But moving forward with intention, honesty, and hope.
And for the first time in a long while, that feels like enough.