Learning to Stay in the In-Between

I hate being in limbo.

Not in a mild, impatient way. I truly dislike the in-between—the unfinished, unsettled space where things aren’t yet clear and there’s no clean path forward.

Change doesn’t scare me. Uncertainty doesn’t scare me. I’ve lived with both for most of my life. What I struggle with is not knowing when the other side will arrive.

My coping mechanism has always been to power through.

To push hard. To move fast. To get to resolution as quickly as possible.

Even when it costs me physically or emotionally.

In many ways, 2025 magnified this pattern.

When the World Won’t Resolve on a Timeline

Last year was marked by collective uncertainty—especially in education, disability systems, and the structures so many families depend on. The ground felt unstable, and in some ways it still does.

Protections felt fragile. The future felt unclear. There was no obvious finish line, no moment where things suddenly resolved.

For someone like me, that kind of prolonged uncertainty is particularly challenging.

When things feel at risk, my instinct is to do more. To respond quickly. To stabilize. To manage. To push toward clarity, even when clarity isn’t available yet.

But 2025 didn’t allow for that.

There was no way to power through the year and come out the other side with everything neatly resolved. And that unsettled something deep in me.

How This Showed Up at Home

I didn’t immediately connect this collective uncertainty to how I was approaching our move—but now I see it clearly.

As we prepared to move, I went straight into execution mode. Timelines. Decisions. Pressure to make everything perfect and “done.” I treated the transition like something to survive rather than experience.

And I was quickly approaching overwhelm.

Honestly, I was probably already past it.

Then Bergen said something that stopped me in my tracks:

“This is supposed to be fun. Dreaming. Enjoying the process. Picking things out casually. Leaving some things unfinished.”

I remember realizing, Wait—am I missing the experience itself?

I was so focused on getting through the move—on controlling the outcome—that I had forgotten there can be real magic in the imperfect. In the unfinished. In letting things unfold without forcing them into a tidy conclusion.

It’s been about a week since that conversation, and I feel noticeably calmer.

Not because everything is done.But because I stopped treating limbo like an emergency.

A Pattern I Can No Longer Ignore

This wasn’t just about the move.

I realized I’ve been living this way my entire life.

When things feel uncertain or heavy, I speed up. I operate at 200%, sometimes 300%. I become hyper-capable. I take on more responsibility, more urgency, more output.

And the truth is—I am capable.

I’m organized, motivated, thoughtful, and deeply caring. I’m a strong leader and problem-solver. When something needs to get done, I can do it.

But I’ve never really asked what this approach has been costing me.

Every January or February, I hit a familiar wall. I start the school year strong, trying to be everything to everyone—professionally, personally, emotionally. And then, a few months in, my body and nervous system crash.

By then, I’m exhausted. Depleted. Wondering how I ended up here again.

2025 made this pattern impossible to ignore.

When Coping Stops Being Sustainable

Powering through isn’t a flaw. It’s a strategy.

For a long time, it helped me survive. It helped me advocate, parent, lead, and show up in moments that demanded strength and decisiveness.

But strategies that help us survive in crisis don’t always help us live well—especially when the crisis doesn’t end on a timeline.

What 2025 taught me is that I can’t treat prolonged uncertainty as something to outwork. I can’t force resolution where none exists. And I can’t keep living as if every in-between moment is something to escape.

In trying to control outcomes, I’ve often skipped over presence. In rushing to the other side, I’ve missed what’s happening right now.

Choosing to Do Things Differently

This year, I’m being invited to try something new.

To stay in the in-between a little longer. To let things be unfinished. To trust that not everything needs to be wrapped up neatly to be meaningful.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop being capable or driven. That part of me is real, and it’s valuable. But I’m learning that I don’t have to operate at maximum capacity all the time to be effective or worthy.

Especially now.

2025 showed me that the world isn’t moving at a pace we can simply push through. It also showed me that many of us are learning—together—how to respond differently. With more awareness. More collaboration. More care for ourselves and each other.

What I’m Carrying Forward

As I look ahead, I know uncertainty isn’t going anywhere.

But I want to meet it differently.

I want to stop treating every transition like something to endure.I want to slow down enough to enjoy the process.I want to leave room for imperfection, creativity, and rest.

I still don’t love limbo.

But I’m beginning to see that it doesn’t have to be a place of suffering.

Sometimes, it’s where we learn how to live more honestly—without forcing clarity before it’s ready.

And that feels like a different way forward—one I’m ready to practice.