There’s this myth about transformation that it follows a clean, linear path. That one day, you decide to change, and then you do, moving effortlessly from who you were to who you’re becoming.
But that’s not how it actually happens.
The truth? It’s messy in the middle. Gloriously, uncomfortably, necessarily messy. I’d like to say that I wouldn’t have it any other way, and yeah, of course, I wouldn’t be who I am if it wasn’t for the gifts and challenges and the mess. But there are some messy bits I am sure we could all do without.
But here’s the thing: we are stronger and far more resilient because of these experiences. I know I am.
The Cycles We Don’t See Coming
I’ve lived through this cycle more times than I care to admit:
- Find something I love
- Pour my heart into it
- Do it the way I’m “supposed to”
- Work harder when it gets difficult
- Push past exhaustion because “that’s what commitment looks like”
- Burn out completely
- Walk away, often heartbroken
Then, after some time has passed, I find myself drawn to something new (or back to something old, but “differently this time”), and the cycle begins again.
It’s a pattern I see in so many women, especially those of us in midlife. We follow paths we think are right. We build businesses or careers according to prescribed formulas. We show up the way experts tell us we should. We hustle. We perform. We excel.
Until we can’t anymore.
What we fail to recognise in these cycles is a profound truth: It’s rarely the work itself we’ve fallen out of love with. It’s the way we’ve been doing it. Read that again. It’s how we have been doing it.
For those of you who know Human Design, I’m a 3/6 emotional projector and an INFJ (for you Myers Briggs fans). Plus, for the astrology fans a Sag, with Scorpio ascendant and Moon in Cancer. The point of this is that when you know yourself, you can make choices. Until then, I think we will fumble in the dark a bit.
The Signs We Ignore
My body tried to tell me long before the shingles hit in March – April 2024. I was in intense pain and so freaking tired. I was ill, ill for 12 weeks, and I still showed up, and I continued to be knackered for much longer, despite taking much need rest.
There was the subtle dread when I opened my content calendar. The resistance I felt each time I “had to” show up on another platform. The quiet voice whispering, “this doesn’t feel right”, that I routinely silenced. The exhaustion that sleep couldn’t touch.
But I pushed through. Because that’s what we’re taught to do, isn’t it? Especially women. Especially those of us who’ve spent decades being responsible and being who others needed us to be.
We don’t recognise these signs as wisdom. We often see them as weakness. As something to overcome.
Until we can’t overcome them anymore.
Those 12 weeks of shingles weren’t just a health crisis. They were an intervention staged by my own body when my mind wouldn’t listen. The months of fatigue that followed weren’t just recovery—they were a forced retreat from a way of working that was literally making me sick.
By October 2024, I had no choice but to walk away from some of the work I’d loved. The identity I’d built. The community I’d nurtured.
I entered what I call the Sacred Void.
The Sacred Void
There’s this space between who you’ve been and who you’re becoming that feels like absolute nothingness. It’s terrifying. It’s necessary. It’s sacred. And if you accept the mission it is a beautiful space where you can breathe again.
In this void, all the external voices fall away. The shoulds. The supposed-tos. The metrics of success you’ve been measuring yourself against.
And in that silence, if you’re brave enough to stay there, something else emerges. Your own voice. Your intuition. Your soul’s calling.
But first comes the surrender.
For me, that surrender looked like saying “fuck it, no more” to:
- Being on every social media platform
- Creating content on someone else’s schedule
- Measuring my worth by metrics and engagement
- Sacrificing my health for visibility
- Doing work in a way that drained rather than fueled me
And then, once I’d cleared that space, came the “fuck it, I want more”:
- More alignment with my energy as an INFJ and emotional projector
- More depth in my work, even if it meant reaching fewer people
- More integrity in how I show up and what I promise
- More listening to dreams, downloads, and intuitive nudges
- More courage to follow the path even when it doesn’t make “strategic sense”
This is the alchemy of the Sacred Void—it transforms resignation into revelation. When we finally stop pushing against our own nature, we create space for our true calling to emerge.
When Spirit Calls
After months in this void, April 2025 arrived with gifts I wasn’t expecting.
Dreams—vivid, persistent dreams about books, about writing, about guiding circles of women through their stories.
Downloads during meditation—clear messages about returning to book mentoring, but differently. About writing my own book alongside others. About creating a sacred space that honoured both my energy and the depth this work deserved.
Morning journaling sessions where words flowed through me rather than from me. Concepts and frameworks appearing fully formed on the page.
And the book—the one I’d been resisting for years—suddenly alive in my mind, insisting on being written.
At first, I fought it. I’d tasted freedom from the hamster wheel. I’d experienced the peace of not having to show up everywhere all the time.
Going back to book mentoring? It made no logical sense. But the call persisted. And finally, I understood. It wasn’t the work I needed to leave behind. It was the way I’d been doing it.
The Embarrassment of Coming Back
Here’s something they don’t tell you about transformation: There will be a moment when you have to explain yourself. When you have to say, “I’m back, but different.”
And it feels embarrassing. Vulnerable. Like you’re admitting failure.
“I thought you were done with that.” “Didn’t you just walk away from this?” “Are you sure this isn’t just another cycle?”
These are the questions we imagine others asking—or worse, the ones we ask ourselves. There’s a particular kind of vulnerability in returning to something you publicly walked away from. In saying, “I’ve changed my mind. I’ve found a different way.”
We worry we’ll look flaky. Indecisive. Unreliable.
But what if this return—this coming back differently—is actually the most powerful testament to growth? What if it’s not about inconsistency but about evolution?
What if the most courageous thing we can do is say, “I’m not who I was before, and this isn’t what it was before, and that’s precisely why it matters”?
You can cry now. I did as I was writing it.
Just Do It (But Differently This Time)
After weeks of wrestling with these questions, I finally realised I just have to do it. Not explain it perfectly. Not justify it strategically. Not package it for easy consumption.
Just do it. Authentically. Imperfectly. Truthfully.
Because here’s what I’ve learned in the messy middle. It truly is freaking, horribly, mind-numbingly messy. Even the dogs will agree.
The people who truly see you will get it. They won’t need elaborate explanations. The people who have been waiting for your medicine will recognise it, even in its new form.
And the people who don’t get it? They weren’t your people to begin with.
So here I am, returning to book mentoring with Your Story. Your Legacy. Your Book.—a 12-week journey to write the nonfiction book that matters.
Not because it makes strategic sense. Not because it fits neatly into my previous brand or business model. But because it’s what I’m called to do now. Because the dreams, the nagging from spirit and downloads are too clear to ignore. Because I’m finally ready to do this work in a way that honours my energy rather than depletes it.
What Messy in the Middle Looks and Feels Like
If you’re in your own messy middle right now, here’s what you might be experiencing:
- Confusion about what you really want versus what you think you should want
- Grief for identities and paths you’re outgrowing
- Fear about what others will think if you change direction
- Resistance to messages that feel aligned but inconvenient
- A growing inability to do things the way you’ve always done them
- Physical symptoms that don’t resolve (your body’s way of getting your attention)
- A longing for something different, even if you can’t articulate what
- Dreams and synchronicities pointing toward a path that doesn’t make “logical sense”
This discomfort isn’t a sign that you’re doing something wrong. It’s a sign that you’re growing. It’s a sign that it’s time.
The messy middle isn’t something to rush through or overcome. It’s a sacred initiation—uncomfortable, uncertain, and absolutely necessary for transformation.
What Working in Alignment Looks and Feels Like
On the other side of this messy middle—when you begin to align with your true nature rather than fighting against it—here’s what becomes possible:
- Energy that expands rather than depletes when you work
- Boundaries that feel like self-respect rather than limitation
- Courage to show up authentically, even if it means reaching fewer people
- Confidence to measure success by impact rather than metrics
- Intuition that guides your decisions more powerfully than strategy
- Work that feels like an expression of who you are, not a performance of who you think you should be
- A sense of rightness, even when the path isn’t clear
For me, alignment now looks like:
- Creating one focused program rather than multiple offerings
- Being present on fewer platforms but more meaningfully
- Writing my own book alongside my clients
- Honouring my energy as an INFJ and emotional projector
- Measuring success by transformation rather than transaction
- Working in cycles and seasons rather than constant production
This isn’t just about building a sustainable business. It’s about creating a sustainable life—one where work flows from who you are rather than depleting who you’re becoming.
What You Can Do Now
If you recognise yourself in this messy middle—if you’re burning out, walking away, or trying to find your way back—here are some permissions and practices that might help:
1. Enter the Sacred Void
Give yourself permission to stop. To not know what’s next. To release the pressure of having it all figured out.
This might look like:
- Taking a sabbatical if possible
- Scaling back commitments
- Unsubscribing from voices that create noise
- Creating space for stillness and reflection
- Turn off the news – you don’t need that fear-laden crap
The void is uncomfortable but necessary. It’s where the old falls away so the new can emerge.
2. Listen Differently
Start paying attention to the messages that come through dreams, intuition, synchronicities, and your body’s wisdom.
This might look like:
- Keeping a dream journal
- Meditating without agenda
- Morning journaling before the strategic mind kicks in
- Honouring your body’s signals as wisdom rather than weakness
Our deepest knowing rarely arrives through logical analysis. It comes in whispers, nudges, and sometimes, as in my case, through physical symptoms that demand attention.
3. Question the Formulas
Challenge every “should” and “supposed to” in your work and life.
This might look like:
- Examining where your definitions of success came from
- Questioning business models that don’t align with your energy
- Releasing expectations about how visibility “should” look
- Considering what success would mean if you defined it for yourself
Just because a way of working is common doesn’t mean it’s right for you.
4. Find Your Rhythms
Discover how you naturally work best, and build systems that honour those rhythms rather than fighting them.
This might look like:
- Tracking your energy to identify your most creative times
- Creating boundaries around communication and availability
- Working in focused bursts rather than constant production
- Building in true rest, not just productive breaks
Alignment isn’t about fitting yourself into existing structures. It’s about creating structures that fit you.
5. Start Before You’re Ready
When the call becomes clear—even if the path isn’t—take one step.
This might look like:
- Creating a small offering that feels aligned – with your passion project
- Reaching out to one person who might understand
- Writing the first page of the book that won’t leave you alone
- Making one decision based on intuition rather than strategy
You don’t need to have it all figured out. You just need to be willing to begin.
The Courage to Be Messy
There’s a particular kind of courage required to be in the messy middle—to admit that you don’t have it all figured out, that you’re changing, evolving, finding your way.
It’s the courage to say:
- I was doing it one way. Now, I’m doing it differently.
- I walked away. Now I’m coming back, but not the same.
- I don’t have it all mapped out, but I’m following the call.
This isn’t indecision. It’s evolution. It’s not inconsistency. It’s growth. It’s not failure. It’s finding your way back to what matters—but this time, on your own terms.
So, if you’re in your own messy middle right now, know this. You’re not lost. You’re not failing. You’re not doing it wrong. You’re in a sacred transition—uncomfortable, uncertain, and absolutely necessary for becoming who you’re meant to be. Yay, welcome to the messy in the middle club.
And on the other side of this mess is alignment so wonderful it will make all the discomfort worthwhile.
Trust the process. Trust your body. Trust the whispers. Trust your heart and divine inner wisdom.
And when you’re ready to emerge—whether it’s into something completely new or a transformed version of what you’ve always loved—do it.
Not perfectly. Not with everything figured out. Just one brave step at a time.
“You don’t need to be ready. You just need to be willing to begin.”
Much love, brave, messy ones.
