The Art of Becoming : Embracing the Messy Middle for High-Performing Women
Het Girl, HEY!
There's something sacred about the space you're in right now, that uncomfortable, uncertain place where you're no longer who you used to be, but not quite who you're becoming yet. I know it feels messy. I know it feels like you should have it all figured out by now. But what if I told you that this very space is holy ground?
As high-performing women, especially as Black women navigating corporate spaces, nonprofit leadership, and entrepreneurial ventures, we've been conditioned to believe that transition should be swift, clean, and impressive. We're supposed to have our next move mapped out before we even finish our current chapter. But the truth is, becoming is an art, not a performance.
The Sacred Space of In-Between
Scripture reminds us that God often meets us in the wilderness, in the in-between spaces where we're forced to depend on Him rather than our own understanding. Moses spent 40 years in the desert before leading the Israelites. David shepherded sheep in isolation before becoming king. These weren't wasted years, they were preparation years.
Your in-between space isn't a holding pattern. It's not a sign that you're behind or that you've somehow failed to launch properly into your next season. This space is where transformation happens. It's where old mindsets are shed, where new dreams are birthed, and where you learn to trust the process rather than rushing to the outcome.
To put it simply, I've learned that the discomfort of not knowing what's next is often God's way of creating space for something better than what we could have planned ourselves.
Becoming vs. Performing: The Crucial Difference
Here's what I wish someone had told me years ago: becoming is not about putting on a better performance.
Performance says: "Look how put-together I am."
Becoming whispers: "I'm learning who I'm meant to be."
Performance demands applause and validation.
Becoming requires only your authentic participation.
Performance fears the messy middle because it can't be packaged nicely.
Becoming embraces the messy middle because that's where real growth happens.
As high-achieving women, we've mastered performance. We know how to show up, deliver results, and exceed expectations. But becoming asks us to step away from the spotlight long enough to do the internal work that no one else can see or validate.
Permission Starts with You
The real starting point isn't a strategic plan or a vision board, it's permission from YOU. Permission to not have all the answers. Permission to pivot without shame. Permission to outgrow spaces and relationships that once served you but no longer fit who you're becoming.
I'm truly grateful for the women who've modeled this for me, Black women leaders who gave themselves permission to leave secure positions to start nonprofits, to transition from corporate law to ministry, to step down from executive roles to write books or start consulting practices. They showed me that permission isn't something you wait to receive; it's something you give yourself.
What permission do you need to give yourself today? To rest without guilt? To dream bigger than your current circumstances? To admit that success hasn't brought the fulfillment you thought it would?
Your Past: Reference Point, Not Restraining Order
One of the most liberating truths I've embraced is this: your past is a reference point, not a restraining order.
Yes, acknowledge where you've been. Learn from those experiences. Be grateful for the skills and resilience you've developed. But don't let your history become your ceiling.
Just because you've always been the one who handled crisis management doesn't mean you can't transition into strategic visioning. Just because you've thrived in high-pressure environments doesn't mean you can't create a business that prioritizes balance. Just because you've been the strong one doesn't mean you can't be vulnerable.
Your resume is not your destiny. Your previous roles were preparation, not imprisonment.
The Hidden Grief of Growth
Here's something we don't talk about enough: there's grief that comes with growth.
When you outgrow a version of yourself, you're literally saying goodbye to someone you used to be. That person served you well. She got you through difficult seasons. She achieved things worth celebrating. And now you're releasing her to become someone new.
This grief is normal. It's healthy. And it's often a sign that you're making room for expansion.
I remember feeling genuine sadness when I realized I was no longer the woman who found her identity solely in being indispensable at work. Letting go of that version of myself, the one who said yes to everything and stayed late to prove her worth: felt like losing a friend. But that grief made space for a woman who knows her value isn't tied to her availability.
Allow yourself to feel this. Honor what was while making space for what's coming.
Celebrating Your Messy Middle
Scripture tells us in Romans 5:3-4 that we can "glory in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope."
Your messy middle isn't punishment: it's proof that you're in motion.
The confusion means you're considering new possibilities. The discomfort means you're stretching beyond your comfort zone. The uncertainty means you're trusting the process instead of controlling every outcome.
This messiness is not a bug in your system; it's a feature of your growth.
Stop apologizing for being in transition. Stop minimizing your season of becoming. The women who inspire you most likely spent significant time in their own messy middles, learning to trust the process and embrace the uncertainty.
Declaring Your Next Chapter Out Loud
There comes a moment when you have to declare your next chapter out loud: not because you have all the details figured out, but because speaking it into existence is an act of faith.
This isn't about making grand announcements or posting dramatic LinkedIn updates. It's about the quiet courage to say to yourself, to God, and to trusted friends: "I'm becoming someone new, and I don't know exactly what that looks like yet, but I'm committed to the journey."
It's declaring: "I'm no longer available for opportunities that require me to shrink." "I'm transitioning from performing to becoming." "I trust that this in-between space is preparing me for something beautiful."
Your declaration doesn't need to be perfect; it needs to be honest.
Walking Forward in Faith
As I reflect on my own journey and the journeys of the remarkable women I've had the privilege to coach and learn from, I'm reminded that becoming is both deeply personal and beautifully universal. We're all works in progress, all learning to trust the process, all discovering that our greatest growth often happens in the spaces we least expect.
The art of becoming requires patience with yourself, faith in the process, and the willingness to stay curious about who you're meant to be. It asks you to view your transitions not as disruptions but as divine redirections.
Ready to dive deeper into your own becoming? I've created a companion worksheet to help you process and practice your transformation in real time. It includes reflection questions, space for journaling, and practical exercises for navigating your messy middle with grace.
š Download your free worksheet here: Companion Worksheet
Want to stay connected on this journey? Each week, I share insights, stories, and encouragement for women who are committed to authentic leadership and intentional growth.
š Read the latest PUSH Weekly post: When the Ceiling Cracks ā What Happens After You Reset?
A Prayer for Your Becoming
God, thank You for meeting me in this in-between space. Help me to see this season not as delay but as preparation. Give me patience with the process and courage to trust Your timing. Show me how to give myself permission to become all that You've created me to be. Help me to honor my past while making room for my future. And when the messy middle feels overwhelming, remind me that You're with me, shaping me, and preparing something beautiful. In faith, I declare my next chapter before I can see it clearly, trusting that You will direct my steps. Amen.
Your becoming is not a rush job. It's an art form.
And you're exactly where you need to be.