In the Beautiful Middle of Becoming 🌺

Another year alive, and somehow, I am both the same girl and a completely different woman than I was last year.

I think birthdays are interesting that way. We celebrate them as though we have simply moved from one number to another, but a year is never just a year. It is everything that happened inside it.

The things we prayed for.

The things we lost.

The things we learnt.

The things we thought would break us but did not.

The things we thought would make us happy but did not.

The things we did not ask for but ended up needing.

The conversations that changed us.

The people who stayed.

The people who left.

The versions of ourselves we outgrew quietly.

The versions we are still learning to love.

I have spent a lot of my life trying to understand myself. Sometimes through writing, other times through questions, some other times through conversations and a few times, through overthinking things that probably did not need that much analysis. However, maybe that is one of the gifts of getting older. You begin to realise that you do not need to have yourself completely figured out to be proud of whom you are becoming.

I used to think becoming meant arriving, as though one day I would finally wake up as the finished version of myself. The woman who knew exactly what she wanted, had everything figured out and had answered every question. Now, I am beginning to see that becoming is not simply an arrival. Instead, it is a way of living. Maybe I am not supposed to have all the answers yet. Maybe I am allowed to still be curious, still ask questions, still change my mind, still discover new things about myself. Still become.

There are things I know about myself now that I did not a few years ago. I now know that peace is valuable. That not every opportunity is an opportunity for me. That saying no does not make me difficult. That being alone is not the same thing as being lonely. That I do not have to force what God has not ordained. That some doors closing are not evidence that I have been forgotten. That I can be grateful for what was and still admit that it was not for me. That sometimes the most loving thing I can do for myself is walk away.

I now know that I am softer than I used to be, but I am also stronger. Perhaps those two are not opposites after all but instead, complementary. I have learnt that strength is not always how much you can carry. Sometimes it is knowing when to put something down, admitting that something hurt, asking for help and letting yourself be loved. Sometimes it is simply waking up and deciding to try again.

I have also learnt that life rarely follows the timeline we give it, as God does not follow our PowerPoint presentation. There were things I thought would have happened by now. Versions of my life I imagined I would already be living. Milestones I thought would have arrived. Answers I thought I would have. And yet, here I am. Still becoming. Still trusting. Still believing that my life is not late simply because it does not look exactly like I imagined it would. More importantly, knowing that I cannot have a better timeline than the One who created me.

I am finally learning to truly let God be God. To stop being a backseat driver or measuring my life against other people's timelines. To stop treating someone else's chapter as evidence that I am behind. To understand that a delayed thing is not necessarily a denied thing. That sometimes, what feels like waiting is actually preparation. Truly, there is a freedom that comes with no longer needing your life to prove anything to anyone. I do not need to have “arrived”. I just need to be present. Present for this life. For this version of me. For the people I love. For the work I have been called to do. Present enough to notice that there are actually so many beautiful things happening right now, as I do not want to become so obsessed with the woman I am trying to become that I forget to love the woman who is becoming her.

So today, I want to celebrate me.

Not the perfect me. Not the Instagram version, although I rarely post on there. Not the woman who always knows what to say or what to do. Not the woman who has conquered every fear and answered every question.

Just me.

The woman who has made mistakes. Who has changed. Who has cried. Who has laughed at herself. Who has sometimes been brave and sometimes been terrified. Who has had days when she felt like she was absolutely smashing life and days when putting on clothes felt like an achievement. The woman who is still learning. Still healing. Still dreaming. Still hoping. Still becoming.

I am proud of her.

I am proud of the way she has kept going.

I am proud of the things she has built.

I am proud of the things she has walked away from.

I am proud of the boundaries she learnt to create.

I am proud of the softness she refused to lose.

I am proud that despite everything, she still believes that beautiful things can happen. That love can be good. That people can be kind. That God is faithful. That there is more ahead.

Truly, there is. There is still so much more ahead. More life. More laughter. More friendships. More books. More writing. More adventures. More lessons. More becoming. More prayers. More answered prayers. More things I cannot even imagine yet. More importantly, I want to meet them with an open heart. I want to remain curious about my own life. I want to keep asking better questions. I want to keep discovering what makes me feel alive. I want to make room for the unexpected. I want to laugh more. I want to rest without feeling guilty. I want to create. I want to love deeply without losing myself. I want to be brave enough to begin again whenever necessary.

I want to become a woman I genuinely enjoy being. Not just a woman who looks good on paper. Not just a woman who achieves things but a woman who is at home in herself. A woman who can sit quietly with her own life and say, “I like it here”, and perhaps that is what this birthday means to me. Not that I have figured everything out, but that I am grateful that I am still here to figure it out. Still here to become. Still here to dream. Still here to be surprised. Still here to see what God does with this life.

So here is to another year of me.

Another year of learning that I do not have to rush. Another year of choosing myself without becoming selfish. Another year of loving people without abandoning myself. Another year of trusting God without needing to know every detail. Another year of becoming softer without becoming weaker. Another year of becoming stronger without becoming harder. Another year of asking questions, of changing, of growing, of living. Most importantly, another year of learning that I do not have to become someone else to become more fully myself.

I am already becoming her, and I know she is going to be wonderful.

Happy birthday, Oluwalolope.

I’ll always love you 🤍