You're Not Lost—You're Just Becoming

There was a time in my life when I thought I was broken.

Not just broken in the poetic, dramatic sense—but truly, deeply lost. I would lie awake at night staring at the ceiling, wondering how everyone else seemed to know exactly where they were going, while I barely knew who I was.

I wasn’t in a bad place by traditional standards. I had a job, a roof over my head, people who cared about me. But inside, I was drifting. I felt like I was floating in this vast, foggy ocean with no compass, no map, and no shore in sight.

That’s when something shifted—slowly, quietly. Not with a lightning bolt of clarity, but with a whisper. It came during a walk, the kind you take when your thoughts are louder than any music. I had wandered aimlessly for over an hour when I sat down on a park bench, watching strangers pass by.

A child ran past me, laughing, her hands sticky with ice cream. Her dad chased after her, laughing too, not caring about the mess. I watched them disappear down the path and suddenly, I felt something in my chest loosen. I wasn’t lost. I was growing.

I was becoming.

Becoming Isn’t Always Beautiful

We’re taught to admire “success stories.” The polished, filtered highlight reels of people who seem to have it all figured out. But no one talks about the middle. The messy part. The years where you doubt yourself more than you love yourself. The weeks where waking up feels like a victory. The quiet moments where you ask the universe if any of it is going to make sense.

That’s what becoming feels like.

It’s not glamorous. It’s not Instagrammable. It’s raw and real and full of questioning. And that’s okay.

No one warns you that self-discovery feels a lot like getting lost. Because how can you find yourself without first losing the version of you that was built to please, to fit in, to survive?

The Lie of “Having It All Figured Out”

One of the biggest lies we buy into is the idea that by a certain age, we’re supposed to have life sorted out. As if there’s a final destination where clarity lives and peace permanently parks itself.

But here’s the truth: even the people who seem like they have it all together? They’re still figuring it out too. The difference is—they’ve made peace with the process.

The process is the point.

You are allowed to evolve. You are allowed to change your mind. You are allowed to be unsure, to explore, to try and fail and try again. Growth isn’t linear. Healing isn’t a checklist. Becoming who you are meant to be is messy and nonlinear and entirely yours.

The Beauty of Being In-Between

There is beauty in the in-between space—between what was and what will be. It’s where we build our strength, brick by shaky brick. It’s where we ask deeper questions. It’s where we get honest with ourselves.

When you feel like you’re floating, unsure of where to go next, try asking yourself:

What makes me feel most like myself?

What excites me, even if it scares me?

What small thing can I do today that honors who I’m becoming?

Small steps matter. Pauses matter. Even breakdowns matter. They create space for breakthrough.

From Surviving to Thriving

Looking back, I can see now that I was never truly lost. I was shedding. Shedding the version of me who was afraid to take up space. The version who confused busyness with worthiness. The version who was so focused on being “enough” that she forgot she already was.

What felt like being lost was really a quiet becoming. A deeper understanding of who I am—not based on what I do, but who I choose to be.

And slowly, I began to thrive.

Not because I reached some grand achievement. But because I started showing up as myself—flawed, growing, real.

Moral of the Story:

You are not lost. You are becoming.

Every season of uncertainty holds lessons that shape the person you're meant to be. Embrace the mess. Trust the process. Honor your journey, even when it feels directionless—because sometimes, wandering is how we find our way home.

-----------------------------

Thank you for reading...

Regards: Fazal Hadi