The Art of Becoming
There are days you want better.
You wake up and think, “Okay, let’s try again today.”
Maybe it’s something small—like breaking a habit.
Or holding a boundary.
Or making a choice you know deep down is good for you.
But then that moment comes.
The actual doing.
And suddenly it feels like someone just asked you to run a marathon… barefoot… uphill… with no warning.
The task might be small on paper.
But in your body? It feels heavy.
And you’re tired.
Tired from last week.
Tired from carrying things no one sees.
Tired from always trying to be a better version of yourself without ever quite feeling like you arrive.
And you find yourself thinking:
“Must I really do it?”
—
We don’t talk enough about how inconvenient growth actually is.
People throw words like discipline and consistency around like they’re light and fluffy.
Like they don’t cost you something.
Like they don’t quietly rearrange your whole life.
But the truth?
Trying to “do better” can feel like losing parts of yourself.
Your comfort.
Your coping mechanisms.
Your routines.
Even your old identity.
And for what?
Some future version of you that feels far off and a little blurry?
So, yeah—you hesitate.
You stall.
You bargain with yourself: Maybe later. Maybe when I feel stronger. Maybe when I care more.
But sometimes, there’s no magical push.
No rush of motivation.
Sometimes, all you’ve got is guilt.
Or a little leftover compassion.
Or a memory of someone who once believed you could.
And so you cling to that.
Because maybe this isn’t about being deeply inspired.
Maybe it’s just about not wanting to stay stuck.
—
Truth is, staying committed isn’t always pretty.
Some days you hold on because of that version of you who first dared to hope.
Other days, it’s someone else—
God.
Your therapist.
A younger you.
A random quote you saved to your phone months ago.
And then there are days when it’s just guilt.
Ugly, gnawing guilt that whispers, “Why are you like this?”
“Why can’t you just get it together?”
But let’s be real.
Wanting better while also hating the process of getting there?
That doesn’t make you broken.
Or weak.
Or bad.
It just makes you human.
—
Maybe sacrifice and commitment aren’t that different.
Sacrifice says, “This will cost you.”
Commitment says, “Stay with it anyway.”
But real life?
It blends the two.
Because choosing better—really choosing it—means saying goodbye to the parts of you that picked comfort over growth.
And that comes with grief.
Even if the old you wasn’t helping you, it was still familiar.
It was still yours.
Letting that go hurts more than most people admit.
So if you’re in that messy middle—between I want better and I don’t want to do what it takes—
you’re not the only one.
You’re not lazy.
You’re not failing.
You’re just standing at the edge of who you were and who you’re trying to become.
And that’s a hard place to be.
—
Maybe the real strength isn’t in doing it perfectly—
but in showing up anyway.
In dragging yourself through the hard bits,
Not because you’re full of inspiration,
But because something in you still wants to care.
So the next time you ask yourself,
“Must I really do it?”
Let the answer be a little softer.
No, you don’t have to.
But if you do—
Let it be because you love who you’re becoming.
Because you’re tired of being stuck.
Because healing matters.
Because even if today, you’re barely holding on… you’re still holding on.
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