Stop Waiting to Live: Finding Joy in the In-Between Seasons Of Life

Feb 8

The hardest part of a life transition isn't the leaving. It's the space in between, when the old chapter is over but the new one hasn't started yet. This article explores how to navigate that in between season without numbing out, rushing through, or treating it like wasted time.

This blog post is adapted from Episode 5 of the Evolving Into Her podcast. Listen Below.

What if the quietest chapter of your life is actually the most important one?

There's a season that doesn't get talked about enough. It's the space where you've let go of what no longer aligns, but the next chapter hasn't fully taken shape yet. Your old life doesn't align anymore, but the new one is still unfolding. And if you're not careful, that space can start to feel like a waiting room.

Now think about a typical waiting room. Maybe at a doctor’s office. Nobody wants to be there. It's cold, sterile, uncomfortable. The chairs are hard, the lighting is harsh, you're surrounded by people who are anxious or checked out, and there's no real engagement. Just waiting.

That's how so many women treat this in between season. They become disconnected, distracted, detached from their own joy. They're waiting to feel clear, waiting to feel validated, waiting for the next chapter to start before they allow themselves to fully live again.

But I want to encourage you. This season is not a waiting room. It's not wasted time. It's not a placeholder. This season is sacred ground.

What Is the In Between Season?

The in between is the space where deep realignment happens. Where you're not being called to perform or push, but to return to yourself. To hear what's been buried under the noise. To feel what you've been too busy to sit with. To realign with the truth of who you are, not just what you're trying to manifest next.

I had a season like this after I moved to Houston. I had just walked away from a lot. A relationship that no longer felt right, a job that no longer felt aligned, a fitness coaching business, some friendships, my hometown. I released the pace of life that had kept me in constant motion, on the hamster wheel, in hustle mode (listen to that episode HERE).

And I entered this stretch of time that was quiet. So quiet. And honestly, the best way I can describe it in hindsight is that it felt unfamiliar. I wasn't striving, I wasn't chasing anything. I had cleared so much, and now I was just…here.

But I was also enjoying my life. I was waking up slow, without an alarm clock. I was cooking fresh meals, sitting in silence, moving with intention, and letting my nervous system reset after years of being in survival mode.

I didn't treat that season like I was in a waiting room. Because I wasn't waiting. I was healing. I was listening. I was paying attention to divine downloads and whispers of the Holy Spirit. I was sitting in stillness. For the first time in my life, I wasn't rushing, I wasn't forcing, I wasn't performing. Just being with myself fully and completely.

The Deep Work That Happens in the Quiet

It was in that space where I did some of the most important work I've ever done.

After I released that relationship, I still had to do the work around boundaries and worthiness and what I believed I deserved in partnership. I had to examine what alignment in partnership actually looks like. I had to look at how I was showing up emotionally, my attachment style, and how much of myself I had compromised to hold on to something that wasn't aligned.

I had left corporate America, but now I was working for myself, and that came with its own initiations. I had to build a relationship with consistency and visibility and trust. I had to show up even when it was uncomfortable, because if I didn't work, I didn't get paid. The bills don't stop just because you quit your job. There was no hiding behind the salary anymore. And that brought up all kinds of stories about being enough, about being seen, about trusting my voice.

And then there was my body. When I got to Houston, I lost about 30 pounds in the first couple of months. And while that was empowering in many ways, it also brought up old stuff about my relationship with my body, being perceived, and allowing myself to take up space without shrinking or apologizing for it.

In this season, I wasn't just sitting still. I was doing the deep, layered inner work. I was facing things I hadn't had the time or the capacity to face before. Because before this, I was spending twelve hours a day between commuting and work, running a fitness coaching business on the side, taking clients before sunrise and after sundown. I was exhausted. I didn't have time to sit in stillness or do the deep self reflection. I was busy doing all the things.

And when I finally had the space to be still, I was no longer striving, but I was being intentional.

LISTEN ON SPOTIFY

LISTEN ON APPLE

Cleaning the Emotional House

I read a book by Iyanla Vanzant called In the Meantime, and it really helped me put language to this season. She gave me a framework for what I was already feeling: that this season wasn't a time out. It wasn't a waiting room. It was an invitation.

She describes the meantime as a space where you clean the emotional house. And I'm not talking about just tidying up and fluffing pillows. I'm talking about a deep clean. The kind of cleaning your mom used to wake you up for early on a Saturday morning. R&B blasting through the house, you're still half asleep, but now you're on your knees scrubbing baseboards, pulling stuff out of closets, wiping down windows. No corner left untouched.

That type of clean is what she was referring to. And it's the same with your inner world. You get into the corners. You shine light into the dark spaces. You scrub the parts you've been ignoring. You throw out what you've been holding on to for way too long. You rearrange what no longer resonates. And you create space. Not just for love, not just for money, not just for that new job, but for clarity, for alignment, for truth, for joy, for expansion.

She shares a story about a woman cleaning her physical house, but really she's cleaning up her internal world, finally tending to what she used to overlook. I felt that so deeply because that's exactly what was happening in my life. I had cleared the clutter physically, emotionally, and spiritually. And now I had to sit with what was left. Not avoid it. Not bypass it. Not dress it up. I had to face it, hold it, sit with it, and allow it to transform me.

How to Honor the Meantime Instead of Rushing Through It

That is what the meantime is for. It's not here for you to fill with distractions, rush through because it's uncomfortable, or strive through because you're not used to just BE’ing. The meantime is meant for you to live inside of, to heal inside of, to realign and return to yourself inside of.

This is where the quiet reveals what the noise kept buried. This is where you face the parts of yourself you used to avoid. This is where you build new habits. This is where you learn how to hold your own joy without waiting for permission. This is where you stop outsourcing your peace and start practicing it. This is where you REST.

It's in this space that you get to ask the deeper questions. Not "What do I need to do next?" or "What's coming next?" But: Who am I becoming now that I'm no longer who I was? And: What kind of life feels honest in my body, in my being, in my soul, and not just good on paper?

You're Not Behind. You're Being Prepared.

If you're in that space right now where it feels like not much is happening, where it's quiet and still and maybe uncomfortable, where you're no longer where you were but not yet who you're becoming, this is your reminder. You are being prepared. You're being refined. You're being invited into the most honest version of yourself.

So don't treat this season like a waiting room. This is sacred space, and it deserves your full presence.

Reflection Questions

As you move through this season, sit with this:

What am I learning to hold, heal, or release in this meantime season?

Journal it out. Take it on a walk. Record a stream of consciousness that doesn't have to make sense. Or simply ask yourself the question and allow yourself to be guided. And once that guidance arrives, allow yourself to trust it.