The Moment Before the Decision

There’s a moment, right before everything changes, that doesn’t get talked about much. 

It’s not dramatic. There’s no lightning bolt, no cinematic swell of music.

It’s quiet. Like standing at a crossroads long after the cars have stopped, staring down both directions and realizing neither feels like home anymore. 

Life tells us to choose the familiar way...the job, the clients, the rhythm that pays the bills but drains the life out of you drop by drop. It may hurt, but it's the responsible choice. 

The other road is the one that doesn’t exist yet. It’s still dirt and mist and what-ifs. It promises freedom, yes, but also the terror of not knowing if your next step will land on solid ground.

Most people think the hard part is choosing. But the truth is, it’s letting go.

Letting go of the version of you who survived by doing what was necessary. 

Letting go of the illusion that safety and fulfillment can coexist in the same small box.

Letting go of the belief that discomfort means you’re failing, instead of evolving. 

This is the space between roads, the part no one celebrates. It’s disorienting, full of doubt, and yet, strangely sacred. It’s where courage isn’t loud; it’s the quiet decision to stop pretending the old life fits.

If you’re here too, in that murky, uncertain middle, maybe the invitation isn’t to rush a decision. Maybe it’s simply to pause. To breathe. To admit that you’re standing on holy ground. Because sometimes the bravest thing we can do is not take the next step… but finally lift the foot we’ve kept planted on the road that’s already over.