Work in progress

Before I understood what the concept of writing was, I thought the goal was to get it right on the first try. No edits, no red pen marks-just a perfect draft, finished and final.

So when every in-progress assignment in middle school had to be labeled the same way:
FirstName_LastName_WIP - it drove me crazy.

Those three letters quietly implied: this isn’t finished. This could be better. This is still becoming.

And for someone who craves a perfect end result, “WIP” is daunting.

There’s a certain comfort in closure. Checking the box, tying the bow, calling something finished.

But real life rarely offers that luxury.

It's more like a growing collection of drafts- some that evolve over time, others that never quite take shape the way they were supposed to.

Some questions don’t get answered. Some texts go unanswered. Some apologies never come.

It’s tempting to rush through the process. To get to the part where everything feels certain. To land in the perfect city, the right relationship, the clear career path.

There’s this silent pressure to arrive, as if arrival means worthiness.

Yet most of the time, life is somewhere in the middle of the sentence.

The in-between moments hold their own kind of beauty. There’s space to move, freak out a little, and even pivot.

There’s freedom in not being finalized. Not knowing why things happen the way they do or why life is going in one direction rather than the other.

Being a work in progress doesn’t mean you’re behind.
It means you’re still building. Still open.

You’re not late.
You’re not lost.
You’re not less because it’s not all figured out.

You’re becoming.