
There are seasons in life that do not have a name. You are not quite where you used to be, but you have not yet arrived at wherever you are going. The old chapter has closed, but the new one has not fully begun. Maybe you have left a job, ended a relationship, moved to a new city, or simply outgrown a version of yourself that no longer fits. These are the in-between moments, and they are some of the most disorienting and transformative times we can experience.
Our culture does not have much patience for the in-between. We are expected to move quickly from one milestone to the next, to always have a plan, to know exactly what comes next. When we find ourselves in a season of uncertainty, we often feel pressure to resolve it as fast as possible—to find the new job, the new relationship, the new identity. But the in-between is not a problem to be solved. It is a place to be inhabited. It is the fertile ground where the next version of you is taking root, and like any seed, it needs time in the dark before it can break through the soil.
The hardest part of a transitional season is the not-knowing. We want answers, and we want them now. We want to know that everything is going to be okay, that the risks we have taken will pay off, that the discomfort we are feeling will eventually make sense. But the truth is that some questions do not have answers yet. They are still being written. And the only way through is to sit with the uncertainty rather than trying to escape it.
This is easier said than done. Our instinct is to fill the void with distractions—busyness, screens, noise, anything that keeps us from feeling the discomfort of the unknown. But when we avoid the in-between, we miss its gifts. We miss the clarity that comes from silence, the self-knowledge that emerges when we are stripped of our usual routines and roles. The in-between is where we discover what we actually want, not what we have been told we should want.
If you are in a transitional season right now, know that you are not lost. You are simply in the middle of something that has not finished yet. The best thing you can do is to be gentle with yourself. Lower your expectations for productivity and certainty. Give yourself permission to rest, to reflect, and to take small steps rather than giant leaps. Journaling can be a powerful tool during this time—not to force answers, but to capture your thoughts and feelings as they evolve.
Remember that every meaningful change in your life has been preceded by a period of uncertainty. The caterpillar does not know it is becoming a butterfly. It simply knows that something is different, that the old way of being no longer works, and it trusts the process. You can do the same. Trust that this in-between time is not wasted. It is preparation. And one day, you will look back and see that it was the most important part of the journey.