I shared this in my "Deep" group a few minutes ago and I thought I'd share it here as well for those who are thought ponderers ... let me know your thoughts! THE MIDDLE FEELS MESSY. IT’S ALSO WHERE THE REAL TRANSFORMATION HAPPENS. This isn’t about before-and-after photos. It’s about the in-between — the space where you’re no longer who you were and not yet who you’re becoming. It’s about time collapsing, how past, present, and future are always happening at once. That’s where real work and the real becoming live. The woman you see in 2021 wasn’t separate from the woman in 2023 or the one you see now in 2025. She carried pieces of both who she had been and who she envisioned becoming. That’s true for all of us. There isn’t really a “finish line.” Growth isn’t linear. Every transition is both an ending and a beginning. - You are right where you are supposed to be. - Life happens for you, not to you. - Support from the outside (a trainer, tools, community) matters, but no one can do the inner work for you. - Letting go of grief, jobs, old identities, out-lived friendships and family, expectations collapse timelines and opens space for what’s next. This collage isn’t about weight loss or aesthetics. It’s about how each version of me reflects my choices and my actions: - To drink more water, eat differently, use infrared, step on the vibration plate, begin personal training. - To leave corporate. To grieve becoming a widow openly. To keep walking even through loss. - To look inward when the world felt chaotic and to respond with love and gratitude instead of waiting for others in systems to fix it. And here’s one truth I don’t take lightly. In 2022, my knee pain was so bad I could see myself heading toward disability. By mid-2023, that almost became my reality until I chose differently. That moment taught me no outside system was going to save me. The choice was mine. Here’s the truth. So much of what we see in the world — poverty, division, homelessness — is real and heartbreaking. But the answer isn’t only in policies or protests. It begins within us. What if, instead of staying focused on how others should change, we turned with curiosity toward our own inner reactions? What does this mirror back to me? If I feel anger, and I look in a mirror, where am I still carrying that anger toward myself? And how can I soften it with love and gratitude instead?