GOOD THINGS TAKE TIME

Last week, I found the weirdest little bug on my outside shoes.

Turns out, it was a cicada—a bug that can spend years underground before finally emerging when it’s ready. Some come out earlier than others. Some stay underground for an incredibly long time.

I watched this little bug crawl out of its exoskeleton and then just… sit there. For an entire day. It wasn’t until the following afternoon that he finally flew away.

Naturally, I named him.

And because he kind of looked like a Jeremiah, Jeremiah felt right.

Now, you’re probably thinking, What the hell does this have to do with anything? And just like Elle Woods in her first trial: I have a point, I promise.

Three years ago, I basically went on an Instagram strike. I wanted nothing to do with blogging or influencing anymore. It felt like too much work, too much rejection, too heavy and, honestly, like a lie.

I was deep in a depressive state, and Instagram and blogging felt like putting on a mask I wasn’t even capable of pretending behind anymore.

I needed help, and it was finally time to admit it.

I had also spent so much time trying to find a job and a life that would satisfy the people around me that I stopped asking myself what I actually wanted. After a lot of tears and even more therapy sessions, I decided I needed a break. Serving felt like the best option.

We’ve talked about that chapter before, so we don’t need to dive all the way back into it. But looking at this tiny cicada sitting on my porch, I realized something:

I needed time underground, too.

I needed three years away from the thing I thought was my dream to figure out whether it actually was.

And, as it turns out, it is.

My sister had my sweet niece about a year and a half ago, and she decided to hang up her hat on a business that required her to travel all over the country so she could be home with Vivian. Now I’m watching her try to figure out what comes next.

And it wasn’t until this tiny little bug crawled onto my porch that I realized maybe she doesn’t need to have the answer immediately.

Maybe she needs her time underground, too.

Working with kids in their early twenties has taught me a lot about having fun, being yourself and letting go. But it has also reminded me just how unsure most of us are about life at that age.

I watch them change majors, take semesters off, question what they want to do and simultaneously feel this enormous pressure to just get on with it already.

And I’ve started realizing how rare it actually is for people to give themselves permission to stop.

To step away from a career.

To change their minds.

To admit that the thing they worked toward for years isn't what they want anymore.

To spend some time underground without immediately needing to explain when they're coming back up.

Here in the United States, we have a hustle culture that can feel suffocating. There’s this constant pressure to turn your career into your purpose, your identity and proof that you’re doing life correctly.

But we work to support our lives. Our work doesn't have to become our lives.

I had to learn that.

And ironically, I had to take three years away from my dream job to realize that it is, in fact, my dream job.

I just needed to come back to it as myself.

I wish we were more supportive of people doing that.

I want my friends to take the time they need. I want my sister to have the space to figure out what she actually wants next. I want the twenty-somethings I work with to know that changing their major isn't ruining their lives.

And I want you to know that you're allowed to change your mind, too.

Seriously. Who cares?

Change careers. Move somewhere new. Take the semester off. Go back to the thing you thought you were done with. Decide the dream you chased for ten years isn't your dream anymore.

Spend some time underground.

And only emerge when you're ready to fly into whatever comes next.

I have no idea where Jeremiah ended up, but I know he was pretty damn confident when he finally decided to take off. And I feel really lucky that I got to watch him through such a pivotal moment in his life.

Yes, I’m talking about a bug. I’m sensitive. Get over it.

But maybe that's why I noticed him.

Because three years ago, I would've looked at my time away as lost time.

Now I don't think it was lost at all.

I think I was underground.

And if there’s anything I hope you take away from this journey, it’s that life is full of unknowns and change—two things I used to be terrified of.

Now?

They’ve never felt more exciting.

Good things take time.

Sometimes, so do we.