The timeline I imagined is long gone. The goals I set back then were drawn by someone who didn’t know the terrain.
And still—I’m here. Still moving. Just slower. And maybe slower is smarter.
We talk so much about being late, but not enough about being ready. Maybe this version of me needed more time. Maybe the detours are where I became someone I actually trust.
So no, I’m not behind. I’m exactly where the weather shaped me to be.
