I Took a Break. Not a Detour. And Now? I’m Back.
Let’s address the elephant in the blog:
It’s been… a while.
Six months. Probably more. Who’s counting? (Apparently, the internet is. How rude!)
I haven’t posted a blog in over half a year, which in digital years is basically the equivalent of faking your own death.
But no—I didn’t vanish.
I didn’t fall off the face of the earth.
I wasn’t abducted by aliens. (Although, let’s be honest, that would’ve made a killer blog post.)
I just… paused.
Not because I ran out of things to say.
(Please. I’m never out of things to say.)
But because life got crowded. New ideas. New questions. Too many possibilities. And sometimes—even trailblazers need to stop, breathe, and recalculate their internal GPS.
Have you ever stood in the cereal aisle staring at 147 different boxes until you walked away with nothing?
That was me.
Except instead of cereal, it was my future.
Where I’ve Been (Spoiler: Not on a Glamorous Sabbatical)
I didn’t spend the last six months writing my memoir in a cabin or backpacking across Europe finding myself. But how cool would that have been?
Nope. I was here.
Doing life.
Thinking deeply.
Finishing my psychology degree.
Gaining another certification.
Starting and stopping 73 blog drafts.
Staring at blank screens.
And occasionally muttering things like:
“I really need to start blogging again.”
“I should write something this week.”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
Here’s the fun part:
Every time I didn’t write… I felt it.
That nudge.
That low-key guilt.
Then, almost like clockwork, the whisper:
“You’re meant for more than this silence.”
(Also: my inner critic yelling, “GET IT TOGETHER, WOMAN!” She’s been temporarily muted.)
Why I Stopped (And Why You Might Be, Too)
Let’s be honest:
Sometimes it’s easier to be quiet than to be visible.
Easier to wait for the perfect time than to take imperfect action.
Easier to stall than to commit to something when you’re not even sure what that something is.
But here’s what I realized:
I wasn’t stuck.
I was scared to choose.
And maybe… that’s where you are, too.
What I Know Now (And What You Might Need to Hear)
Here’s the wild thing: the longer you stay quiet, the louder your doubt gets.
The longer you wait, the harder it is to restart.
And your brain? It loves that. It thinks it’s protecting you.
But that’s not protection.
That’s permission to stay small.
And whether you want to admit it or not, we aren’t built for small.
We are built for bold.
We are built for movement.
We are built for trailblazing, messy, courageous, purpose-driven action.
What’s Next? (What’s on the horizon?)
Here I am, back on the trail.
Not because I have it all figured out—
But because I’m done waiting until I do.
Trust me. Paralysis by analysis and I go way back.
Give me too many choices and suddenly I need a spreadsheet, a personality quiz, color-coded charts, and a small miracle to commit.
I can overthink ordering lunch.
Imagine asking me to decide the direction of my career.
I’ve spent hours… okay, weeks… agonizing over minor decisions like I was choosing a tattoo that would live on my soul forever.
Permanent.
Highly visible.
Impossible to explain later.
Because obviously, one wrong decision would permanently derail the rest of my existence.
(Except… it doesn’t. And it won’t. And that’s exactly why I’m moving anyway.)
I’m choosing progress over perfection.
I’m choosing to get a little uncomfortable.
I’m choosing to stop circling the same decision I’ve already made in my gut.
Maybe you haven’t lost your way—
Maybe you’ve just been standing at a fork in the road, waiting for a sign.
This is it.
Take the first step.
It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be yours.
Until next time, I’ll be over here…figuring it out one step at a time, too.
See you on the trail,
~kk