I am learning that becoming does not arrive with noise.

It comes in the pauses.

In the moments I choose to remain instead of retreat.

I sit with questions now,

let them breathe,

let them teach me their shape

without demanding answers.

So much of my life is changing where no one can see it.

In the careful unlearning.

In the restraint no one applauds.

In the way my words arrive softer,

more intentional than before.

I am learning that discipline can be a kind of prayer,

showing up without spectacle,

trusting that consistency is its own reward.

Strength, I’ve discovered, does not always harden.

Sometimes it listens.

Sometimes it bends without breaking.

Sometimes it allows tenderness to exist without shame.

I no longer feel the need to hurry myself.

I am not becoming impressive,

I am becoming honest.

Attentive.

Present.

And perhaps this is what growth looks like for me:

not reinvention,

but residence.

Staying long enough to recognize myself.

I am becoming —

still quietly,

but with intention now.