June: A Letter to Myself About Trusting the Timing
A reminder that slow growth is still growth.
Note from Me:
I usually share these letters during the first week of the month, but life had other plans. It’s mid-June, and I’m only just finding the space to sit down and write this. Maybe that’s fitting, though—this month’s letter is all about timing. And sometimes, timing doesn’t look how we imagined. So here it is, a little later than usual, but still right on time in its own quiet way.
Dear Me,
It’s June. Halfway through the year.
I know what you’re feeling right now - it’s that quiet ache that starts to rise when you pause long enough to take stock. It’s subtle but familiar. This feeling that somehow, you’re behind. That life was supposed to look different by now. That you should have been further along - more healed, more productive, more something.
We’re halfway through the year, and I know what you’re feeling - that quiet tug that says, Shouldn’t I be further along by now? Shouldn’t things look different? You’ve been doing your best. You’ve shown up, kept going, done what needed to be done. And still, there’s this lingering feeling of not-enoughness, like the progress you’ve made doesn’t count unless it’s visible to someone else.
It’s not loud. It doesn’t shout. But it sits in the background of your days, whispering questions like, Why hasn’t more changed? Why are you still stuck in the same patterns? Why are you still tired all the time? And if you’re not careful, it pulls you into that tired loop of self-blame and quiet shame.
But I want to say something clearly: You are not behind. You are not failing. You’re simply in the middle of becoming, and the middle often looks like mess, like slowness, like a thousand small things no one else notices. It doesn’t always feel like progress, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t.
I think about all the things I’ve held this year already - emotionally, physically, financially, mentally, and I can’t deny it’s been a lot. I’ve kept my children going. I’ve kept myself going. I’ve gotten through appointments, deadlines, stretches of self-doubt, and long days where I wasn’t sure if I was doing any of it well. But I didn’t give up. I didn’t stop trying.
You’ve made it through half a year. And not just floating through it - you’ve carried so much, emotionally, mentally, practically. You’ve managed daily life while holding layers of worry, parenting two boys, keeping appointments straight, remembering forms and shopping lists and trying to give love even when you feel emptied out. And you’ve done all of it with hardly any space to stop and ask how you are doing.
That’s not failure. That’s resilience.
But I know it doesn’t always feel that way. Because you’re tired. And not just tired in your body, but in your spirit. That kind of fatigue that builds slowly, especially when you’ve been quietly managing too much for too long. That kind of tired that makes it hard to even know what rest means anymore, because the moment you sit still, the guilt shows up.
The guilt that says, You should be doing something. You should be doing more.
But more isn’t always what’s needed. More effort. More fixing. More productivity. Sometimes what’s needed is less. Less pressure. Less comparison. Less noise in your mind about where you think you “should” be by now.
Because what if this is exactly the pace you need?
I know you scroll sometimes and see people talking about big changes they’ve made this year - career leaps, fitness milestones, dream opportunities. And it’s hard not to look at your own life and feel like yours is too quiet. Like your wins are too small to count. But that’s not true.
Your wins might not come with fanfare, but they’re real.
Getting through hard mornings with your kids without snapping.
Making it to that appointment you almost cancelled.
Getting through a conversation you were dreading.
Feeding everyone when you could barely feed yourself.
Putting one foot in front of the other even when no one was watching.
That matters. That’s becoming.
It doesn’t need to be dramatic. It doesn’t need to be a whole new life.
It can be what you’re doing now - this quiet rebuilding, this learning to trust that not everything has to happen all at once.
You’re also still grieving things you don’t talk about often. That invisible grief of the version of life you thought you’d have. The support you thought would be there. The love you thought would last. You carry that in quiet ways, and sometimes it slows you down. Of course it does. That’s not a weakness - it’s part of the story.
You’re not behind. You’re recovering.
And healing takes time.
Not everything blooms by June. Some roots take longer to settle before anything above the surface can grow. You’re not standing still - you’re planting things that matter. Things like boundaries, rest, emotional safety, and real connection.
These things don’t grow overnight.
So here’s what I want you to remember this month, every time that old voice creeps in and tells you that you should be further ahead by now:
You are not behind. You’re on your own timeline.
You don’t have to prove your worth through exhaustion.
Small steps count. Especially the ones you take when no one sees you.
Let this be the month you stop rushing your own becoming. Let it be quiet if it needs to be. Let it be steady. Let it be yours.
You’re allowed to trust the process even when it doesn’t make sense yet. Even when you’re still tired. Even when nothing feels clear.
You’re doing better than you think.
With gentleness,
Me
Your Turn to Reflect:
Take a moment to check in with yourself. What quiet progress have you made this year that no one else may have seen? What are the things you’ve held together that deserve recognition even if they didn’t look like milestones?
If it helps, try journaling with one of these prompts:
“One thing I’ve been proud of (even in private) is…”
“This month, I want to let go of…”
“If I could give myself one kind truth today, it would be…”
Resources to Explore:
📖 Wintering by Katherine May – a beautiful book on resting, slowing down, and accepting the seasons of our lives
🎧 Glennon Doyle’s “We Can Do Hard Things” podcast – Episode on Rest vs. Burnout
A Gentle Reminder:
You don’t need to bloom by summer. You don’t need to keep proving your worth. Showing up is enough. Staying soft while carrying so much is enough. You are enough.
“Letters to Myself” is a yearlong journey of reflection, growth, and becoming. Join me every month as I explore the past, present, and future through heartfelt letters. Subscribe to follow along and be part of this thoughtful journey.
I so relate to everything you say. Thank you for expressing what’s in my heart so eloquently. Just beautiful and so powerful. 🙏🩵
Thank you for sharing this! I need reminders like this daily!