Sometimes the hardest part isn’t the changed priority, but realizing other people were still planning their lives around the version of you that had already begun to disappear. Why do you think we’re taught to treat changing priorities like confession instead of recognition?
Beautifully said... and I think that is exactly why it feels like that. It also feels like an inevitable, heartbreaking experience of simply being human, trying to build relationships with other humans.
So true! Maybe the heartbreak is built into love itself, because to build anything real with another person is to attach yourself to someone who is still becoming.
"The panic attack in the tent wasn’t the moment I changed my priorities — it was the moment I stopped pretending I hadn’t." Woah! You nailed it. Thank you for sharing.
There are moments when the knowing arrives before the language does.
For me, it doesn’t shout at first. It hums—low, steady, somewhere beneath the noise of daily life. It settles into my body like a quiet truth that has already made its decision, even if my mind is still catching up. I’ve felt it in the pauses between tasks, in the strange restlessness that doesn’t quite belong to dissatisfaction, and in the subtle sense that something has already shifted… that who I am is no longer fully aligned with how I am living.
It’s a peculiar experience—an internal crossing over of some sort before any external step is taken. My life on the outside continues as it always has – meetings, conversations, responsibilities. But inside, I feel that something has already moved. The ground has tilted ever so slightly. And once that knowing takes hold, it doesn’t really leave.
For me, that process of change has rarely been direct. It tends to follow a more circuitous path.
First, there is the clearing.
I’ve learned—often reluctantly—that before anything new can take shape, I need to clear the deck of what currently fills my time and attention. Not because I always know what’s coming next, but precisely because I don’t. Space has to be made before clarity arrives. It’s as if possibility requires an open field, not a crowded room.
Several times this has felt unsettling. Letting go of projects, even good ones (especially good ones!), without a fully formed next step in mind can feel insane, even irresponsible from the outside. But so many times, I’ve found that the next meaningful opportunity rarely appears until there is room for it to land. I have to free up the time before the invitation can arrive.
Then comes the sacrifice.
There is no version of meaningful change in my life that has not required giving something up first. Not later—first.
Graduate degrees meant missed evenings with friends, television shows left unwatched, and long hours spent in study while life continued elsewhere. Each step forward has required a quiet subtraction from the life I was currently living. And rarely has the reward been immediate. The sacrifice always precedes the accomplishment.
It’s a kind of reordering. It’s a choosing what matters most before there is any guarantee it will payoff with what I hope. And in that space, something deeper is formed. Not just skill or achievement, but commitment. Identity begins to take shape in what I am willing to set aside. That’s really the key, the sacrifice shapes me into the person I need to become to be ready for the life I am pursuing. How dismal it would be to capture the thing I have always hoped for and the not be able to hoped onto it because I am not ready for it. In a strange way, I’m glad for the sacrifice. Does that make sense?
And then, inevitably, there is faith.
Not a dramatic, cinematic leap—but a steady, persistent trust. Faith that I can learn what I do not yet know. Faith that I can endure the uncertainty that accompanies change. Faith that opportunities will emerge, that I will recognize them, and that I will have the courage to step into them when they do.
Every meaningful shift I’ve made has required this. Not certainty—never certainty—but a willingness to move forward without it.
Because in the end, the process is not just about what I will do next. It’s about who I might become in the process.
I know who I am.
I know who I’ve been.
It’s who I might be that asks the most of me.
And eventually—always—there comes a moment when the knowing grows too loud to ignore.
It begins to echo.
In the books I’m drawn to.
In the talks that seem to find me at just the right time.
In the quiet drift of my thoughts during the most routine parts of the day.
Each one like a small chime, resonating with the same underlying note. Until, together, they build into something unmistakable.
At that point, fear doesn’t necessarily disappear. But it loses its authority.
I don’t move forward because I feel unafraid. I move forward because the knowing has become stronger than the fear. Or perhaps more honestly—I move forward alongside it.
Because by then, the change has already happened on the inside.
The rest is simply bringing my life into alignment with what is already true.
Also… I have to say, I love Edinburgh, too. And I’m thoroughly enjoying your stories from there! And sorry this is so long. I’m a thinker and your post really struck a chord!
Wow, this is beautiful to read. I felt like I was inside your mind at the cusp of change, watching the steps unfold!
I love your breakdown of the gnawing sense of knowing, then the demand for clearing, slowness, more time to let ideas rise to the surface. The sacrifice too, letting an old version of yourself go. And then faith (that part stayed with me… it actually made me pause and wonder about the difference between faith and trust. I’ll be thinking on that today, so thank you!)
And yes, it’s so easy to look back and see those steps clearly, but in the moment it can feel so disorienting. That off-kilter feeling. The quiet grief of an old life being buried for the promise of a new one.
Love this story. You are so good at it. Btw the blue ridge parkway sign caught my eye. I use to camp along entire route a few times a year. But I really like this sign change priorities ahead...im gonna ponder on this awhile...thank you..💓
Also, I love the Blue Ride Parkway sign! I've been by it a number of times (as someone who calls Tennessee home). But, I'm curious as you ponder the CHANGED PRIORITIES what comes up for you.
Well ..I'm gonna reflect on past and what I'm thinking going forward. One side of me is i m divorced and single with one relationship between there in last 20plus years but I learned that's not priority ..lol, I think. I still have kids with their families that I visit often. Other is when do I quit actual work force as I started receiving ss recently but still working. Health is good considering I had major stroke past Thanksgiving and thank the Lord was out of hospital in 3 days. Ran a 440 i days later and was back on soccer field 6 weeks later. Just ran a 6k couple weeks ago and 12 miles this past weekend. So I ponder what am I doing and what next. But thanks for your interest and story. Puts more confidence in whatever I decide,...road is already there...just decide which foot to put forth...
There’s something really powerful in the way you’re holding that question of “what next” without rushing to answer it. And also… running a 440 days after a stroke and back to 12 miles? That says so much about your spirit and resilience.
I love what you said at the end. The road is already there, just deciding which foot to put forward. That feels like the work, doesn’t it?
Grateful you shared this here, and I’m wishing you clarity as you keep feeling your way forward.
This was heartfelt for me. I don’t know anything, but I think love on some level is allowing each other space to be and to become. Celebrate the changes and the growth.
I can honestly say I don't know anything either... just trying to figure it all out as I go! But, I think you're right. Love is the space to grow and the celebration (not condemation) in change!
Amazing Liz. I asked for signs today, signs to give myself permission to take a leap and change. Change careers and commit to new things. I had a phone call with a friend I hadn’t talked to in 10 months who shared with me her plans. Going on the road for 5 weeks, then to Europe for 2 months then to NYC. And then a read this. Perfect real life signs from brave women to follow your path and fucking change!!!! Let’s go
I feel this deeply, so beautiful Liz! I'm going to be in Edinburgh end of next month so I will be on the look out for the sign! I'm in the midst of change right now, some of it I think I know where it's leading but so much is a mystery and I think that's the adventure of life. This past fall I started my freshman year of college, and being in my late twenties it was hard at first to not feel like I should have done this sooner. But, I'm so grateful that I'm doing it now, the experience is so much richer for my lived experience. I could go on about other changes, like how my views have changed so much in the past few years after leaving a very toxic religious environment and trying to put the broken pieces back together. Change is so hard, especially when it up ends your life, but if you let it change you, grow you, you'll find a better, kinder version of yourself. At least that's my deep hope. Here's to change in all its forms!
This made me pause in the best way!! Thank you for sharing all of this so openly.
There’s something really powerful about choosing change, especially when it doesn’t follow the timeline you once imagined. Starting college in your late twenties doesn’t feel “late” to me; it feels intentional... Like you’re actually able to meet the experience with your full self, not just who you thought you were supposed to be back then. That depth you’re feeling is earned.
And leaving something that shaped your worldview, especially something as immersive as a religious environment, that’s not just change… that’s reconstruction. Piece by piece. It makes sense that it would feel disorienting AND expansive. There's courage in letting your beliefs evolve!!
I also really love what you said about letting change grow you into a kinder version of yourself. That's beautifully said.
And Edinburgh… keep your eyes open. I have a feeling that the sign has a funny way of finding people when they’re already in the middle of becoming something new!
I’m really glad you’re here, and really glad you shared this!
Sometimes the hardest part isn’t the changed priority, but realizing other people were still planning their lives around the version of you that had already begun to disappear. Why do you think we’re taught to treat changing priorities like confession instead of recognition?
Beautifully said... and I think that is exactly why it feels like that. It also feels like an inevitable, heartbreaking experience of simply being human, trying to build relationships with other humans.
So true! Maybe the heartbreak is built into love itself, because to build anything real with another person is to attach yourself to someone who is still becoming.
Now these, these are powerful words. "To build anything real with another person is to attach yourself to someone who is still becoming." Absolutely.
"The panic attack in the tent wasn’t the moment I changed my priorities — it was the moment I stopped pretending I hadn’t." Woah! You nailed it. Thank you for sharing.
The truth had to be faced eventually, and my body was tired of waiting! Thank you for reading!!
There are moments when the knowing arrives before the language does.
For me, it doesn’t shout at first. It hums—low, steady, somewhere beneath the noise of daily life. It settles into my body like a quiet truth that has already made its decision, even if my mind is still catching up. I’ve felt it in the pauses between tasks, in the strange restlessness that doesn’t quite belong to dissatisfaction, and in the subtle sense that something has already shifted… that who I am is no longer fully aligned with how I am living.
It’s a peculiar experience—an internal crossing over of some sort before any external step is taken. My life on the outside continues as it always has – meetings, conversations, responsibilities. But inside, I feel that something has already moved. The ground has tilted ever so slightly. And once that knowing takes hold, it doesn’t really leave.
For me, that process of change has rarely been direct. It tends to follow a more circuitous path.
First, there is the clearing.
I’ve learned—often reluctantly—that before anything new can take shape, I need to clear the deck of what currently fills my time and attention. Not because I always know what’s coming next, but precisely because I don’t. Space has to be made before clarity arrives. It’s as if possibility requires an open field, not a crowded room.
Several times this has felt unsettling. Letting go of projects, even good ones (especially good ones!), without a fully formed next step in mind can feel insane, even irresponsible from the outside. But so many times, I’ve found that the next meaningful opportunity rarely appears until there is room for it to land. I have to free up the time before the invitation can arrive.
Then comes the sacrifice.
There is no version of meaningful change in my life that has not required giving something up first. Not later—first.
Graduate degrees meant missed evenings with friends, television shows left unwatched, and long hours spent in study while life continued elsewhere. Each step forward has required a quiet subtraction from the life I was currently living. And rarely has the reward been immediate. The sacrifice always precedes the accomplishment.
It’s a kind of reordering. It’s a choosing what matters most before there is any guarantee it will payoff with what I hope. And in that space, something deeper is formed. Not just skill or achievement, but commitment. Identity begins to take shape in what I am willing to set aside. That’s really the key, the sacrifice shapes me into the person I need to become to be ready for the life I am pursuing. How dismal it would be to capture the thing I have always hoped for and the not be able to hoped onto it because I am not ready for it. In a strange way, I’m glad for the sacrifice. Does that make sense?
And then, inevitably, there is faith.
Not a dramatic, cinematic leap—but a steady, persistent trust. Faith that I can learn what I do not yet know. Faith that I can endure the uncertainty that accompanies change. Faith that opportunities will emerge, that I will recognize them, and that I will have the courage to step into them when they do.
Every meaningful shift I’ve made has required this. Not certainty—never certainty—but a willingness to move forward without it.
Because in the end, the process is not just about what I will do next. It’s about who I might become in the process.
I know who I am.
I know who I’ve been.
It’s who I might be that asks the most of me.
And eventually—always—there comes a moment when the knowing grows too loud to ignore.
It begins to echo.
In the books I’m drawn to.
In the talks that seem to find me at just the right time.
In the quiet drift of my thoughts during the most routine parts of the day.
Each one like a small chime, resonating with the same underlying note. Until, together, they build into something unmistakable.
At that point, fear doesn’t necessarily disappear. But it loses its authority.
I don’t move forward because I feel unafraid. I move forward because the knowing has become stronger than the fear. Or perhaps more honestly—I move forward alongside it.
Because by then, the change has already happened on the inside.
The rest is simply bringing my life into alignment with what is already true.
Also… I have to say, I love Edinburgh, too. And I’m thoroughly enjoying your stories from there! And sorry this is so long. I’m a thinker and your post really struck a chord!
Wow, this is beautiful to read. I felt like I was inside your mind at the cusp of change, watching the steps unfold!
I love your breakdown of the gnawing sense of knowing, then the demand for clearing, slowness, more time to let ideas rise to the surface. The sacrifice too, letting an old version of yourself go. And then faith (that part stayed with me… it actually made me pause and wonder about the difference between faith and trust. I’ll be thinking on that today, so thank you!)
And yes, it’s so easy to look back and see those steps clearly, but in the moment it can feel so disorienting. That off-kilter feeling. The quiet grief of an old life being buried for the promise of a new one.
Really grateful you shared this.
Thank you, Liz. That’s very kind.
Love this story. You are so good at it. Btw the blue ridge parkway sign caught my eye. I use to camp along entire route a few times a year. But I really like this sign change priorities ahead...im gonna ponder on this awhile...thank you..💓
Thank you, thank you!
Also, I love the Blue Ride Parkway sign! I've been by it a number of times (as someone who calls Tennessee home). But, I'm curious as you ponder the CHANGED PRIORITIES what comes up for you.
Well ..I'm gonna reflect on past and what I'm thinking going forward. One side of me is i m divorced and single with one relationship between there in last 20plus years but I learned that's not priority ..lol, I think. I still have kids with their families that I visit often. Other is when do I quit actual work force as I started receiving ss recently but still working. Health is good considering I had major stroke past Thanksgiving and thank the Lord was out of hospital in 3 days. Ran a 440 i days later and was back on soccer field 6 weeks later. Just ran a 6k couple weeks ago and 12 miles this past weekend. So I ponder what am I doing and what next. But thanks for your interest and story. Puts more confidence in whatever I decide,...road is already there...just decide which foot to put forth...
There’s something really powerful in the way you’re holding that question of “what next” without rushing to answer it. And also… running a 440 days after a stroke and back to 12 miles? That says so much about your spirit and resilience.
I love what you said at the end. The road is already there, just deciding which foot to put forward. That feels like the work, doesn’t it?
Grateful you shared this here, and I’m wishing you clarity as you keep feeling your way forward.
Thank you Liz...you always so good with words..have great day
This was heartfelt for me. I don’t know anything, but I think love on some level is allowing each other space to be and to become. Celebrate the changes and the growth.
I can honestly say I don't know anything either... just trying to figure it all out as I go! But, I think you're right. Love is the space to grow and the celebration (not condemation) in change!
Amazing Liz. I asked for signs today, signs to give myself permission to take a leap and change. Change careers and commit to new things. I had a phone call with a friend I hadn’t talked to in 10 months who shared with me her plans. Going on the road for 5 weeks, then to Europe for 2 months then to NYC. And then a read this. Perfect real life signs from brave women to follow your path and fucking change!!!! Let’s go
I love that you asked for a sign and the universe said, HERE YOU GO! It sounds like you're going to be going on one hell of an adventure!
I feel this deeply, so beautiful Liz! I'm going to be in Edinburgh end of next month so I will be on the look out for the sign! I'm in the midst of change right now, some of it I think I know where it's leading but so much is a mystery and I think that's the adventure of life. This past fall I started my freshman year of college, and being in my late twenties it was hard at first to not feel like I should have done this sooner. But, I'm so grateful that I'm doing it now, the experience is so much richer for my lived experience. I could go on about other changes, like how my views have changed so much in the past few years after leaving a very toxic religious environment and trying to put the broken pieces back together. Change is so hard, especially when it up ends your life, but if you let it change you, grow you, you'll find a better, kinder version of yourself. At least that's my deep hope. Here's to change in all its forms!
This made me pause in the best way!! Thank you for sharing all of this so openly.
There’s something really powerful about choosing change, especially when it doesn’t follow the timeline you once imagined. Starting college in your late twenties doesn’t feel “late” to me; it feels intentional... Like you’re actually able to meet the experience with your full self, not just who you thought you were supposed to be back then. That depth you’re feeling is earned.
And leaving something that shaped your worldview, especially something as immersive as a religious environment, that’s not just change… that’s reconstruction. Piece by piece. It makes sense that it would feel disorienting AND expansive. There's courage in letting your beliefs evolve!!
I also really love what you said about letting change grow you into a kinder version of yourself. That's beautifully said.
And Edinburgh… keep your eyes open. I have a feeling that the sign has a funny way of finding people when they’re already in the middle of becoming something new!
I’m really glad you’re here, and really glad you shared this!