Redefining Progress on My Own Terms

So I slowed down. And I asked myself: What does my life need from me now?

If there’s one thing I keep hearing in conversations with people I care about, t’s how challenging it can be to feel truly aligned with life.

I’ve spent years wrestling with difficult experiences and internal patterns I didn’t fully understand. I couldn’t accept them for a long time. I kept pushing, trying to fix, trying to move forward. And while I don’t regret that effort, I’ve started to learn that not every struggle needs to be conquered, some are out of my control, while some just need to be softened, understood, and slowly released.

We often begin our journey toward a “better life” with good intentions. But somewhere along the way, we forget to pause. We start managing life as a task to conquer rather than a space to grow in. The thought becomes: Once I achieve this, I’ll rest. Once I fix that, I’ll finally feel fulfilled.

So we keep chasing. The pressure intensifies. The rest we promised ourselves gets pushed further and further away. And while some of those achievements bring pride, others leave us questioning what we’re actually chasing.

I’ve come to believe that one of the hardest moments in life is when you forget what you’re striving for. You’re doing all the right things, yet still feel misaligned.

For a while, I filled every corner of my life with activity, work, fitness, back-to-back commitments. On the surface, I was thriving. But deep down, I was trying to erase the emptiness that had crept in over the past few years. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was replacing self-reflection with motion. I was trying to reclaim a sense of worth by staying busy, visible, “productive.”

It felt good to be needed again. But it also became overwhelming.

I stretched myself thin, so much so that there was little space left for my own voice, or even my own rest. Eventually, I noticed that some of my decisions were made from urgency, not clarity. I was moving, but not always meaningfully.

So I slowed down. And I asked myself:

What does my life need from me now?

Not in terms of goals or milestones, but in energy, presence, and intention.

I realized I was rushing, through connections, through transitions, through expectations I’d placed on myself. I tried to make things fit that didn’t. I overlooked what I truly needed in order to keep up with what I thought I should want.

But every experience, even the ones that didn’t last, taught me something valuable.

Now, I’m rebuilding. With more intention. With clearer priorities.

I’m focusing on the goals I’ve been carrying for years, building a career that reflects my values, growing meaningful networks, creating financial independence, and reclaiming agency over my time and energy. This time, not just emotionally, but holistically.

This is what redefining progress on my own terms has come to mean: stepping away from the noise, tuning into my needs, and letting clarity guide my momentum.

Because life is short. Too short to be guided by temporary highs or someone else’s version of success. The goal isn’t just to feel a spark, it’s to create something rooted in love, resilience, self-respect, and empowerment.

After everything, I finally had a quiet, honest talk with my life.

It didn’t ask for more hustle.

It didn’t want perfection.

It simply said:

When you redefine progress on your own terms, and lead with love and compassion, life finds a way to love you back.