Right on Time
When survival is no longer the goal, what happens next?
I’ve never been more sure of who I am — and yet never more unsure of what comes next.
It’s a strange place to be, standing on solid ground after years of survival mode, only to realize you don’t know which direction to walk.
I know who I am now — not just on paper, but deep in my bones.
I’m a survivor.
I’m a mom.
I’m a type B spirit who’s spent a lifetime pretending to be type A because life demanded it.
I love connecting with people. I see them. Really see them.
And after years of carrying shame like it was part of my DNA, I finally live with grace — for others, yes, but mostly for myself.
For so long, I beat myself up harder than anyone else ever could. I lived in a mental prison of regret for every mistake, every misstep, every moment I thought I should have known better. It’s taken years — and more growing pains than I care to count — to learn that becoming a better person isn’t about perfection. It’s about grace. It’s about forgiving the girl I used to be so the woman I am now could finally breathe.
And when you finally learn to live with grace instead of shame, something wild happens:
You stop projecting your own pain into the world.
You meet people with compassion, even when they don’t “deserve” it.
(Notice I said easier — not unheard of. Let’s not pretend sainthood.)
The impossible standards I once held myself to — the ones that defined success in shiny degrees and LinkedIn-worthy titles — eventually broke under the weight of real life. Life didn’t go according to my perfect five-year plan, and for a while, I thought that made me a failure.
But the truth is, it made me human.
And it led me here — to a life that looks nothing like I expected but feels more like home than anything I could have planned.
The Pressure of the Next Step
For the first time, my family is standing on stable ground.
Financially, emotionally — we can finally breathe.
When my oldest son was born, my husband (then boyfriend) lost his job one week before we went to the hospital. I was working a high-stress corporate job — so high-pressure that seven hours after giving birth, I was still in my hospital bed sending investment packages to Shanghai.
We lived paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment next to a mall, counting every dollar, every cent. I picked up second jobs just to afford things like a trip to New York — scraping together side hustles so we could live a little.
There were years when budgeting wasn’t a lifestyle choice. It was survival.
There were years when living with my parents during COVID wasn’t part of the plan. It was necessary. There were years when moving into our first home meant scraping together every penny, sitting on fold-out chairs, slowly buying new furniture.
And before all of that, there were the years of childhood hunger.
The food banks.
The endless anxiety of growing up poor, where extra was a luxury and survival was the norm.
For so long, my deepest prayer wasn’t for a dream job or a calling — it was just not to be poor anymore.
Not to live one paycheck away from panic.
Now we’re here.
Not rich. Not extravagant.
But stable.
And weirdly enough, now that survival isn’t the goal…I feel more overwhelmed than ever.
Because now?
Now I have options.
Options I never had before.
And having options, when you’ve spent most of your life fighting to survive, can feel terrifying.
Because when survival is your only goal, the path is clear: stay alive, stay afloat.
When you finally have a choice?
That’s when you realize you have no map for building a life beyond survival.
Wrestling With God
I realized something recently:
I trust God with almost everything in my life — my marriage, my kids, my friendships.
But when it comes to my career?
The dreams that feel tied to my self-worth?
The decisions that feel like they’ll define my future?
I keep trying to fix that part myself.
It’s almost like I’ve been telling God,
“I’ll let You into the places where I’m broken, but I need to earn my way forward. I need to prove I’m strong enough. Smart enough. Good enough.”
But faith was never supposed to be a transaction.
It’s not, “I’ll come to You once I have it all figured out.”
It’s “I’ll trust You even when I have no idea what the next step is.”
The truth is, I’m scared.
Not of failing, not really.
But of choosing wrong.
Of wasting time.
Of missing the thing I was made for.
So I wrestle.
I pray about everything but the thing that feels too important to hand over.
And I carry an invisible weight that was never mine to bear.
The New Prayer
I’m learning to pray differently now.
Not for clarity about which door to walk through.
Not for a booming voice from heaven telling me the one right choice.
I’m praying for something deeper.
“God, help me build a life that reflects the woman You created me to be.”
“Help me trust that even if I choose a path that looks different than I expected, You are still in it.”
“Help me remember that my calling isn’t a single job title — it’s living with courage, compassion, and faith wherever You place me.”
I’m not asking for a blueprint anymore.
I’m asking for alignment.
For peace over perfection.
For a life built on values, not fear.
Because here’s what I’m finally understanding:
The right path isn’t a magic road with no bumps or detours.
It’s the one where I walk with God in it.
Even when it’s messy.
Even when it’s slow.
Even when I’m scared.
Right On Time
Maybe you’re standing where I am right now — confident in who you are, but overwhelmed by what’s next.
Maybe you’re terrified of making the wrong move because survival taught you how costly mistakes can be.
Maybe you’re trying to pray but don’t even know where to start.
If you are, I just want to say this:
You’re not behind.
You’re not broken.
You’re not lost.
You’re standing at the beginning of something bigger.
And standing in the unknown?
That’s not failure.
That’s faith.
You’re right on time.
Journal Prompt:
“What would I pursue if I believed that my identity was already secure in God, no matter the outcome?”
Let’s Reflect Together:
Have you ever felt paralyzed by choice after finally finding stability?
Share your story or drop a comment below — I read every one. 💬
And if this spoke to you, consider forwarding it to a friend who might need to hear: You’re not behind. You’re right on time.
On time God. Reading this just at the perfect moment!! 💛🥲
This is strong! Thank you for sharing. ❤️