Don’t Postpone Yourself
I’ve been thinking about the stories we tell ourselves about time.
We believe there will always be enough. That someday we’ll take the trip. Someday we’ll write the book. Someday we’ll slow down long enough to savor the moments that matter. Someday we’ll say no without guilt or yes without hesitation.
It sounds harmless. Hopeful, even. A gentle promise to ourselves that we’ll get there eventually. But if you look closely, someday might just be the most dangerous story we tell ourselves. Or the saddest.
It’s the story that lets us postpone our own lives while convincing ourselves we’re still on the path. But for many of us, someday is a lie.
We’ve been sold the idea that the right time will appear. That once the kids are older, once the money is better, once the work slows down, or once we’ve proven ourselves long enough, then life will open its doors and roll out the red carpet for our dreams. Only then will we be able to do all the things we’ve been putting on pause while we shoulder the things we think we have to do instead of the things we ache to do.
Don’t get me wrong. There are things we must do. Obligations to fulfill. Roles we play. But that isn’t the sum total of our lives. There are also things we want to do, places we want to go, people we want to see, and moments we want to savor.
And life doesn’t wait. It doesn’t work like that. Things rarely settle down. The inbox doesn’t empty itself. Demands don’t politely step aside and say, Go ahead, it’s your turn now. More often, life hands us another responsibility, another crisis, another reason to wait.
And if we keep waiting, we may wake up one day and realize that years have slipped by while the dream is still sitting in the corner collecting dust.
The Cost of Waiting
There’s a cost to waiting for someday.
And it’s not just the trip we didn’t take or the class we never signed up for. It’s deeper than that.
It’s the weariness of carrying a desire without ever giving it air.
It’s the sadness of silencing that whisper inside that says, I want more.
It’s the heaviness of teaching yourself, over and over, that your longings don’t matter, that your needs come last, that life is something you endure instead of something you create.
And after enough years of not yet and someday, you start to believe it’s too late. The window closed, and you missed your chance.
A Better Way
But I think there’s a better way—a way to balance the responsibilities of today with the desires of today.
Especially as women, that means creating time. Not waiting for it to magically appear. We must give air, voice, and space to the things we want.
Every so often, something shakes us awake. Maybe it’s a sudden loss. Maybe it’s a diagnosis. Maybe it’s a headline that causes us to pause and reflect. And just for a moment, the truth rings louder than all the excuses: there are no guarantees. Time is not given. Someday is not promised.
I’m not writing this to scare you. I’m reflecting because I know what it feels like to wait a lifetime for someday. And now, I’m in a season of learning to embrace today.
Not by shirking responsibilities, but by owning them, loving them, giving them my best, while also pursuing the dreams I once labeled “someday.”
I’m saying yes to the vacations.
Yes to writing the books.
Yes to slowing down and savoring the moments, the people, the opportunities right in front of me. Yes to me!
What I’ve Learned
Once we stop pretending we have an unlimited supply of some days, we start asking better questions. Questions like: What would it look like to live fully in the present moment?
Here’s what I’ve discovered:
Rest isn’t indulgence. I don’t have to earn it by exhausting myself first.
Joy isn’t frivolous. It’s what makes the hardest parts of life sustainable.
Dreams aren’t luxuries. They’re my compass, pointing me toward the life I’m meant to build.
Permission isn’t out there. I don’t need my husband, my boss, my community, or my family to sign off on me living the life I long for. I get to choose it.
And when we stop deferring ourselves, when we stop waiting for everyone else’s rules to grant us permission, that’s when we begin to disrupt the defaults that have kept us small, silent, or simply too busy to notice we’ve gone missing from our own lives.
An Invitation
So I’m writing this as both a reflection and an invitation: stop waiting for someday.
Don’t wait until the timing feels perfect. Don’t wait until you’ve earned it. Don’t wait until everyone else’s needs are met. Because if you do, you may always be waiting.
Instead, choose one small thing to rewrite today:
Book the weekend away, even if the laundry is piling in the corner.
Sign up for the class that makes your heart race.
Pull out the notebook and write that messy first draft.
Say no to something you don’t want and yes to something you really do.
Big changes rarely start big. They start with small, honest choices. I’m not advocating you blow up your life overnight. That’s not the point. What I am advocating is that you start showing up for yourself, one choice at a time.
You don’t need another someday, you need this one.
