There’s a certain kind of limbo that can feel endless—a space where you’re neither here nor there, where you feel like you’re waiting for something to shift, something to align before life can truly begin again. You tell yourself that you’re in transition, still figuring things out, still waiting for clarity. But what if you’re not? What if you’re already living your new life, but you just haven’t fully accepted it yet?
So often, we see transition as a temporary state, a bridge between what was and what will be. But sometimes, that’s not the truth. Sometimes, the in-between feeling isn’t because you’re in transition at all, but because a part of you is still holding on to the past. Maybe it’s an old identity, an expectation of how things should have gone, or a deep attachment to what you thought your life was supposed to look like. And because that part of you hasn’t fully let go, you convince yourself that you’re not there yet—that you’re still waiting for something to happen before you can fully step into your new reality.
But what if the truth is that nothing else needs to happen? What if the only thing standing between you and embracing your new life is you?
We often expect transitions to have clear endings, an unmistakable moment when we know, beyond a doubt, that we’ve arrived. But more often than not, change doesn’t work like that. Some shifts happen so subtly, so gradually, that we don’t recognize we’ve already crossed over. Other times, the change is sudden, but our minds take longer to catch up. We keep replaying the past, analyzing what happened, trying to make sense of it. We hold onto the belief that things aren’t settled yet, that something is missing, that we’re still in the process of becoming. But in reality, we are already there—we just haven’t allowed ourselves to live in it.
The tricky part is that transition feels safer than acceptance. When we tell ourselves we are still figuring things out, it creates an illusion of control. We think we still have time to prepare, to process, to ease into things. But when we admit that we have already arrived, when we acknowledge that the life we are living now is our life, we are faced with the weight of that truth. And sometimes, that truth is overwhelming. It means we can’t undo the past, can’t go back, can’t wait for something external to shift. It means we are already in unfamiliar territory, whether we feel ready for it or not.
So how do you know if you are truly in transition or if you are already living in your new season? The key is to examine what you are actually waiting for. Is there a real, tangible change that still needs to happen, or is your mind simply reluctant to accept what is? Are you resisting because you are genuinely unfinished, or are you afraid to let go of an old identity, an old dream, an old way of existing?
Ask yourself: What am I telling myself I need before I can fully live in this new season? If the answer is something outside of your control—more certainty, more closure, a feeling of readiness—then you might be holding yourself in a false state of transition. You may be waiting for something that will never come in the way you expect it to.
Sometimes, we hold on because we believe that letting go means dishonoring the past. We think that if we embrace where we are now, it somehow invalidates the pain, the loss, or the work it took to get here. But letting go doesn’t mean that what came before didn’t matter. It just means you are choosing to exist fully in the present rather than keeping one foot in the past.
And then there’s the fear—fear of stepping into something new, fear of not recognizing yourself in this new space, fear of what it means to exist outside of the comfort of what was familiar. Even if the past wasn’t perfect, it was known, and there’s safety in what we know. But real growth, real transformation, happens when we stop waiting and start living.
Moving into acceptance doesn’t require perfection. You don’t have to feel fully ready. You don’t have to have all the answers. You don’t even have to feel at peace with everything that’s happened. You just have to stop resisting where you are. You have to trust that you are not lost, not in limbo, not unfinished—but already in the next chapter of your life, whether or not it looks the way you thought it would.
So if you find yourself saying, I’m in-between right now, pause and ask yourself: In-between what? If you have already made the decision, already stepped forward, already begun something new, then the only thing left to do is live in it. You don’t have to keep waiting for permission. You don’t have to keep waiting for clarity. You don’t have to keep waiting to feel ready.
Maybe this isn’t a transition at all. Maybe you are already here. And maybe the only thing left to do is embrace it.
