Change is hard.

Actually, that’s probably an understatement.

Change is hard when you choose it, but it’s even harder when it shows up uninvited and completely blindsides you.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately.

The last 18 months have felt like a lifetime packed into a year and a half. There have been some incredible moments mixed in with some really difficult ones. Job losses. Family vacations. A graduation. A new career path. A lot of self-reflection that I didn’t exactly ask for.

And somehow all of this has been happening while my hormones seem to have decided they’re no longer interested in being team players.

Thanks, perimenopause.

Some days I feel excited about where life is heading. Other days I feel like I’m making it up as I go along and hoping nobody notices.

The strange thing is that if I could sit down with the version of myself from 18 months ago, I don’t think she’d recognize me.

Not because I’ve changed physically or because my life looks dramatically different from the outside.

But because I think differently now.

I question things more.

I worry less about some things and more about others.

I’ve started letting go of a few ideas about how life was “supposed” to look by this age.

I still believe everything happens for a reason. Maybe that’s just how I make sense of the chaos. Or maybe it’s because when I look back, even the things I never wanted to happen ended up teaching me something I needed to learn.

Either way, I’m not the same person I was 18 months ago.

And honestly?

I think that’s probably a good thing.

“Maybe I’ll figure it out. Maybe I won’t. I’ll let you know.”