The Myth of Being Behind: You’re Right on Time

Let’s name it for what it is:
“Being behind” is a lie rooted in comparison.

It comes from:

• Watching someone else’s highlight reel and making it your benchmark
• Comparing your internal chaos to someone else’s curated peace
• Believing growth should look linear, clean, and fast

But real healing doesn’t follow a schedule.
And real life is never on time.

You are not a project.
You are a living, breathing, evolving human being.
And your growth is not late.

If you’ve ever planted anything, you know this:
There are days when nothing seems to be happening—
and then suddenly, everything blooms.

Your process is the same.
There are seasons where it all feels slow.
Where it looks like you’re stuck or even going backward.
Where the old patterns return and the new habits feel shaky.

But beneath the surface, things are shifting.
Old neural pathways are being challenged.
New emotional capacity is being built.
Your nervous system is learning safety—and that takes time.

What looks like a pause may actually be a breakthrough in progress.

Here’s what I’ve learned:
We don’t feel behind because we are behind.
We feel behind because we’re disconnected from our own pace.

We’ve been conditioned to see growth as achievement.
To value speed over sustainability.
To expect healing to be efficient, visible, and forward-moving at all times.

But that’s not how the body works.
It’s not how the heart heals.
And it’s not how presence unfolds.

So if your journey has taken longer than you thought it would—
You’re not doing it wrong.
You’re doing it honestly.

From a biological perspective, safety comes through repetition and regulation.

If you’ve been in survival mode for years—overthinking, people-pleasing, reacting from fear—it’s going to take time to rewire those patterns.

Time to pause.
Time to feel.
Time to trust.

Your nervous system isn’t resisting healing.
It’s asking you to go slow enough to feel safe.

“Slower” doesn’t mean “less progress.”
It often means more real transformation.

When you’re constantly measuring how far you have to go, you miss where you already are.

Presence invites you to pause and ask:

• What am I doing now that I couldn’t do before?
• Where do I feel more grounded than I used to?
• What’s shifting internally—even if it hasn’t shown up externally yet?

You’ll start to see: you’re not stuck.
You’re integrating.

And that’s growth most people miss because they’re too busy chasing the next milestone.

Nature is my greatest teacher when it comes to trust.

The trees don’t rush to bloom.
The tides don’t apologize for pulling back before returning.
The moon doesn’t question her worth in her waxing and waning.

And you? You’re nature, too.

You’re not meant to sprint through healing.
You’re meant to move with the rhythm of your own life.

And sometimes, that rhythm includes rest. Stillness. Regression. Quiet. Redirection.
None of it means you’re behind.
It means you’re becoming.