23/01/2026
You’re Not Stuck. You’re Between Versions of Yourself.
Feeling stuck is one of the most uncomfortable states a person can be in. It feels like failure, like time is passing and you are somehow doing it wrong. You look around and everyone else appears to be moving forward, deciding things, building lives, while you seem paused in place.
But what if being stuck is not the problem?
What we often call “stuck” is actually a transition without a clear name. One version of you no longer works, but the next one has not yet taken shape. Old goals feel empty. Old motivations no longer pull you forward. Yet nothing new has fully claimed you either. That gap feels frightening because it is unfamiliar.
Modern life has very little tolerance for this phase. We admire progress, reinvention, and momentum. We do not admire uncertainty. We expect people to move smoothly from one chapter to the next, as if growth should be efficient and uninterrupted. In reality, the most meaningful changes usually come with a period of confusion, slowing down, and loss of direction.
This is why advice often feels useless at times like these. You are told to push harder, stay positive, make a decision, be grateful, or “just choose something.” But transitions cannot be forced. Pressure does not create clarity. What is needed instead is space, patience, and the courage to sit with not knowing yet.
When you are between versions of yourself, your energy changes. Urgency fades. Drive softens. The things that once mattered no longer hold the same power. This is not laziness. It is recalibration. Something deeper is quietly deciding what deserves your effort next.
Many people escape this phase too quickly. They cling to old patterns, familiar roles, or borrowed ambitions just to avoid the discomfort of uncertainty. They mistake motion for growth and stability for truth. But the cost of rushing through this stage is often living a life that no longer fits.
Growth does not always look like forward movement. Sometimes it looks like stillness. Sometimes it looks like doubt. Sometimes it looks like stepping back so that something more real can eventually take its place.
If you feel stuck, consider this gently. What if you are not lost at all, but unfinished? What if this pause is not a failure, but the quiet space where a truer version of your life is being formed?
Painting: 'Portrait of the painter Anton Peschka', 1909 by Egon Schiele