Ten months ago, I wrote about moving out, moving on, and moving forward.
At the time, everything felt like it was supposed to change. New house, new town, new job—eventually. A new start, whether I felt ready for it or not.
I remember wondering if this would be the season where I finally became… me.
I don’t know if I ever answered that question.
—
The “New” That Never Quite Feels New
It’s strange how something can still feel new and not new at all at the same time.
I still catch myself calling this place “the new house,” like I’m waiting for the moment it magically turns into “home.”
It hasn’t.
It’s more familiar now, sure. I know where more things are. I’ve settled into routines—at least the loose version of them.
But that feeling I thought would come? The one where everything clicks and you just know you’ve moved forward?
Yeah… that part never really showed up.
—
I Thought I’d Be Further Along
I think that’s the hardest part to admit.
I thought by now I would:
– feel more settled
– have better routines
– be more organized
– be… better, somehow
Instead, I’m still:
– starting things and not finishing them
– overthinking everything
– trying to figure out systems that I don’t stick to
Even the things I want to do—reading, writing, organizing—somehow turn into pressure instead of enjoyment.
And then I end up doing less of all of it.
—
The Pressure That Followed Me Here
I think I assumed moving would leave certain things behind.
Old habits. Old thoughts. Old ways of thinking about myself.
But it turns out, those things pack themselves up and come with you.
The pressure to be productive.
The feeling of not doing enough.
The constant mental checklist of unfinished things.
None of that stayed behind.
It just found a new place to live.
—
Small Things Still Count (Even If My Brain Disagrees)
If I’m being fair—really fair—there have been good things.
Small things.
I’ve tried new things.
I’ve had moments where something actually worked.
Moments where things felt… okay. Maybe even good.
But those moments are quiet.
They don’t scream for attention the way the negative thoughts do.
So they’re easy to ignore.
—
So… What Does “Moving Forward” Actually Mean?
I used to think moving forward meant progress you could see.
Checklists completed. Goals reached. A clear difference between “before” and “after.”
Now I’m not so sure.
Maybe moving forward is quieter than that.
Maybe it looks like:
– getting through a day without completely spiraling
– trying again, even after you didn’t follow through yesterday
– slowly learning what works (and what doesn’t)
Maybe it’s less about becoming a completely different person…
…and more about figuring out how to live with the one you already are.
—
Is This Still My Season?
I asked before if this was the season for me to become me.
I don’t think there’s a big, dramatic answer to that.
No sudden transformation. No moment where everything falls into place.
But maybe this is still a season.
Just not the one I expected.
Maybe this is the season of:
– unfinished things
– small attempts
– figuring it out as I go
And maybe that still counts.
Even if it doesn’t feel like moving forward the way I thought it would.
