There’s a certain type of frustration that comes from knowing your life doesn’t match who you are. Not because you’re lost, but because you’re a little early. It’s like having a craving for a juicy, fresh, greasy burger from Five Guys, just to pull up and see it’s closed. That doesn’t mean you’ll never get it… just means you have to wait. And that wait? That’s the part nobody talks about. You can feel each tick, each tock, just “wasting away.” It’s like you can taste it, picture it, feel it as if it already belongs to you… But reality hasn’t caught up quite yet. So it puts you in a queue where it’s easy to start feeling stuck. You’re not where you used to be, but you’re not quite where you want to be either. And that feeling can be discouraging, like nothing is happening.
But if you think about it, life IS a queue, one you can’t skip through. Each moment is a song, and no matter how much you want to hear the next one, you have to sit through the one that’s playing until it fades into the new one. And you have two options: you can sit there dwelling on when the next song will play, or you can enjoy the song that is playing. Not because it’s perfect. Not because it’s the destination. But because even the in-between has a beat, background vocals, a small kind of meaning hiding in plain sight. There are a few details in it you only notice when you stop trying to “escape” it. Look at the way you’ve grown. It used to be the things you once prayed for just to survive. The way your standards quietly rise without you announcing it to anyone. The way your mind starts rejecting the versions of life you used to accept way too easily. None of that actually feels like anything in the moment, but trust that it’s all happening underneath.
Because what if the song you keep trying to skip is actually the one shaping your voice? Not the one taking you to your destination, but the one building your range, your tone, your strength, without you even realizing it. What if the queue isn’t delaying your life… but arranging it? Putting things in order that you can’t fully see yet. Removing what would’ve overwhelmed you too early. Making space for the version of you that won’t just reach for what you want, but actually be able to hold it.
What if you’re not stuck at all, but your story is just being written in real time? Not paused. Not forgotten, just unfolding in layers that don’t reveal themselves all at once. Maybe that’s the real twist. The life you’re waiting for doesn’t just arrive in one day like an Amazon package. It’s shipping in from somewhere out of this world. It’s intentional, “dramatic” even. But let’s be real… if everything came exactly when you wanted it, would you even know how to handle it? Or would you just be juggling a life you asked for, but don’t yet know how to live in?
And I can’t help but think if timing isn’t about denial… but preparation in disguise. Preparation for the conversations you haven’t had yet. The rooms you haven’t walked into yet. The love you haven’t experienced yet—the kind that doesn’t confuse you or make you question yourself, but meets you exactly where you stand. The version of you that doesn’t beg for clarity, because she is the clarity. So the next time it feels like nothing is happening, like you’re just sitting there waiting for your “real life” to start… maybe this is your real life. Just the softer chapter, a quieter scene. The part of the story that feels like a montage, quiet clips stitched together, not seeming like much on the surface, but meaning everything when you look back.
Because one day, you’re going to hear a song start playing… and it’s going to hit different when you realize you didn’t skip anything. You lived through it. And somehow, without even noticing when it happened… You became exactly who was needed to press play.