The Old You Survived. The New You Will Thrive.

Nobody warned me about this part:

You can outgrow yourself.

And I don’t mean jeans—I mean you.

One day, you’ll wake up and realize you don’t fit into the life you carefully built. The habits, the conversations, the relationships, the opinions you once defended like your life depended on it—they don’t feel like home anymore. You catch yourself saying things like, “I don’t even know if I like this anymore,” or “Who even am I right now?” And not in a cute, Buzzfeed quiz kind of way. I’m talking about the deep, unsettling “I don’t recognize myself” kind of way.

It’s strange, isn’t it?

You spent years surviving. Adapting. Becoming who you needed to be to make it through. And now? That version of you—the one who knew how to keep the peace, shrink to fit, hustle for approval, or fight for scraps of love—is starting to fall away. Like a sweater that shrank in the dryer. You could probably force it back on… but it’s uncomfortable. And honestly? It kind of itches.

But here’s the part no one really talks about:

The middle.

That space between who you were and who you’re becoming feels a lot like trying to build IKEA furniture blindfolded—no instructions, too many screws, and yes, you’re probably going to cry. It’s awkward. It’s uncomfortable. It’s quiet. You miss the old you, even though she wasn’t happy. And you don’t fully trust the new you… because you haven’t met her yet.

And girl, the pull to go backwards is strong.

Back to what’s familiar.

Back to what people expect.

Back to the version of yourself that made everyone else comfortable—even if she made you miserable.

But hear me:

You’re not lost.

You’re evolving.

This in-between space? It’s holy ground.

It’s the cocoon. It’s the stretching. It’s the sacred, awkward middle where you don’t have the language for it yet—but something is shifting beneath the surface. You may not have clarity, but you do have a calling—even if you’re still figuring out what it looks like now.

Can I be honest? I used to think transformation would be beautiful and cinematic.

Cue the music. Cue the breakthrough. Cue the clean, before-and-after moment.

Nope.

Mine looked a lot more like crying at stoplights. Questioning everything. Saying “no” more than I ever had before. Feeling like a walking identity crisis in the middle of Target.

And still—God was in it.

Because God doesn’t just upgrade your circumstances. He transforms you.

He renews your mind. He refines your character. He peels back every survival version of you and starts revealing the one He’s always seen beneath it all.

And that process? It’s not always clear.

But it’s always worth it.

So if you feel like you’re stuck in that in-between space—where the old version of you doesn’t fit anymore, but the new one hasn’t fully introduced herself yet—you’re not alone. You’re not crazy. You’re not behind.

You’re just shedding.

You’re just shifting.

You’re just becoming.

Maybe the only thing God’s asking of you in this season is to loosen your grip on who you were… so He can show you who you actually are.

Not the broken girl trying to prove her worth.

Not the chameleon version who just wanted to be liked.

Not the copy-paste Christian who thought following Jesus meant disappearing.

But the woman who is bold. Grounded. Healed. Whole.

The woman who doesn’t settle.

The woman who doesn’t perform.

The woman who walks into a room full of light, not apology.

She’s in there.

And you’re on your way to her.

So keep going—even if it’s slow.

Even if it’s awkward.

Even if you’re just winging it with a little faith and a whole lot of questions.

Because the old you survived.

But the new you?

She’s about to live.