The Woman I'm Becoming Isn't the Woman I Used to Be

Learning to embrace growth, release the past, and trust the woman God is shaping us to become.

There are moments when I look back at the woman I used to be, and I hardly recognize her. Not because I dislike her or wish I could erase those chapters of my life, but because so much has changed. My priorities, my perspective, my relationship with God, the way I handle difficult situations, and even the dreams I have for my future.

I think about the younger version of myself who thought she had everything figured out. The one who had plans for how life was supposed to go. The one who didn't yet understand how quickly life could change or how much strength she would be asked to find along the way.

If I could sit across the table from her today, I think I'd have quite a bit to say.

I'd tell her that life isn't going to unfold exactly how she imagined. That some of her hardest seasons will teach her things she could never learn when life is comfortable. I'd tell her that she doesn't have to spend so much time worrying about what everyone thinks. And most importantly, I'd remind her that God has never stopped working in her life, even during the seasons when she couldn't see it.

Because the woman I'm becoming isn't the woman I used to be.

And I don't think she's supposed to be.

Growth Often Comes Through the Seasons We Wouldn't Choose

I used to think growth would come when life finally settled down. When things were easier, when I had more time, when I felt more confident, or when I finally had everything under control, but life has taught me something different.

Some of the greatest changes in my life have happened during seasons I never would have chosen for myself. Seasons of uncertainty, disappointment, fear, and exhaustion. Seasons when I was simply trying to make it through the day, not realizing how much God was teaching me in the process.

Walking through cancer as a young woman changed the way I looked at life. Becoming a wife and then a mother changed me again. Raising three daughters, building a life on the farm, working full-time, and pursuing dreams that sometimes feel bigger than my abilities have continued to stretch and shape me.

None of those seasons have produced a perfect woman. They've produced a woman who is still learning. A woman who is beginning to understand that strength doesn't mean never struggling. Faith doesn't mean never questioning. And growth doesn't mean never making the same mistake twice.

James 1:2–4 reminds us that the testing of our faith produces perseverance and that perseverance helps us mature. That doesn't mean we have to enjoy the difficult seasons or pretend they don't hurt. It means we can trust that God is capable of working through them.

Looking back, I can see that some of the things I once prayed for God to remove became the very experiences that taught me to lean on Him.

I'm Learning to Let Go of Who I Thought I Had to Be

For a long time, I think I carried an invisible list of expectations for myself.

Be a good wife. Be a patient mother. Work hard. Keep the house together. Stay healthy. Be a good friend. Make everyone happy. Don't disappoint anyone. Don't fall behind. Somewhere in the middle of trying to be everything to everyone, it becomes easy to forget that God never asked us to carry every expectation the world places on our shoulders.

I've spent plenty of time worrying about what others might think of my decisions, my dreams, or the direction I'm taking my life. I've questioned whether I'm qualified enough, capable enough, or doing enough. The older I get, the more I realize that I cannot become the woman God is calling me to be while constantly trying to remain the woman everyone else expects me to be.

That doesn't mean disregarding people or refusing correction. It means learning the difference between wise counsel and living for approval. Galatians 1:10 challenges us to consider whether we're seeking the approval of people or seeking to serve Christ.

That's a question I've had to ask myself more than once.

Am I making this decision because it's what I believe God is leading me toward? Or am I making it because I'm afraid of disappointing someone? Sometimes becoming requires us to release the expectations we've been carrying for years.

Motherhood Is Teaching Me Just How Much I Still Have to Grow

Nothing has shown me my own weaknesses quite like motherhood. I love my girls more than I could ever put into words. But there are days when my patience is thin, the house is loud, everyone needs something, and I respond in a way I wish I hadn't.

There are moments when I hear the frustration in my own voice and realize I still have work to do.

Years ago, I might have allowed those moments to define the rest of my day. I might have carried the guilt around, convinced that one difficult moment meant I was failing. Now, I'm learning something different. I'm learning to apologize to my children when I'm wrong. To recognize when I'm overwhelmed. To ask God for patience before I reach my breaking point. And to remember that my daughters don't need a mother who never makes mistakes. They need a mother who is willing to acknowledge them, take responsibility, and keep growing.

I want my girls to see that becoming a stronger woman doesn't mean becoming harder or less emotional. It can mean becoming gentler, more patient, more discerning, and more willing to admit when we need help. I want them to know that their identity isn't determined by how perfectly they perform in any role.

And perhaps one of the greatest lessons I can teach them is that we never reach an age where we're finished growing.

Becoming Requires More Than Wanting to Change

Here's something I've had to learn the hard way: wanting to become a different version of ourselves and actually doing the work are two very different things.

I can want a stronger relationship with God, but I still have to make time to seek Him. I can want to become healthier, but I still have to make intentional choices when motivation disappears. I can dream about growing Rural Rooted Mama, but I still have to show up, write, create, and take the uncomfortable steps that move that dream forward. And believe me, I don't always get it right.

There are days when discipline loses to convenience. Days when I spend too much time overthinking instead of taking action. Days when I fall into old habits that I thought I had already moved past, but I'm learning that growth isn't measured only by the days when everything goes right.

Sometimes growth is recognizing an old pattern sooner. Sometimes it's choosing to begin again instead of giving up. Sometimes it's doing the right thing even when nobody sees it. Romans 12:2 reminds us not to conform to the patterns of this world, but to be transformed by the renewing of our minds.

Transformation is deeper than changing our routines or improving our circumstances. It involves allowing God to change the way we think, the way we respond, and the things we value. That kind of change takes time.

You Can Appreciate Who You Were Without Staying There

One thing I want to make clear is that I'm not ashamed of every version of myself that came before this one. The younger woman who struggled with fear was doing the best she knew how. The new mother who questioned herself was learning. The woman who started and stopped pursuing her goals was still trying to figure out what consistency looked like.

I can look back at those versions of myself with compassion while still recognizing that I don't want to remain in the same patterns. Maybe you need to hear that, too.

You don't have to hate who you used to be to appreciate who you're becoming.

You can acknowledge mistakes without allowing shame to become your identity. You can be grateful for what a season taught you without wanting to return to it. You can love the life you have while still feeling called to grow.

Second Corinthians 5:17 reminds us that anyone in Christ is a new creation. Our past doesn't have to hold the final word over our future. That doesn't mean every old struggle instantly disappears. But it does mean our identity is rooted in something greater than our past decisions, failures, or circumstances. We are being made new in Him.

God Isn't Finished With Me, and He Isn't Finished With You

I don't know exactly what the next five or ten years will look like. I have dreams for my family, my faith, my health, and Rural Rooted Mama. I have things I want to accomplish and areas of my life where I know I still need to grow. I also know that the woman I am today won't be exactly the same woman I am five years from now.

And I hope that's true.

I hope I'm more patient. More faithful. More courageous. More disciplined. More generous with grace. I hope I'm quicker to listen, slower to react, and more willing to trust God's timing rather than trying to force my own. Not because I'm chasing perfection, but because I want my life to reflect the One who is shaping it.

Philippians 1:6 reminds us that God, who began a good work in us, will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. What a beautiful reminder that we are not finished products. We are works in progress, held by a God who doesn't abandon what He begins.

So if you've been looking back at the woman you used to be, wondering whether you've changed enough or whether you're moving in the right direction, I want to encourage you. Look for the small ways God has already been working in your life.

Maybe you're learning to respond with patience instead of anger. Maybe you're setting boundaries you once felt guilty about. Maybe you're finally taking steps toward something you've been afraid to pursue. Or maybe you're simply learning to trust God in a season that doesn't make sense yet.

Don't dismiss those things just because they aren't dramatic. The woman you're becoming is being shaped through those quiet, ordinary decisions.

And you don't have to rush the process.

The woman I'm becoming isn't the woman I used to be. I'm grateful for who I've been, I'm learning to embrace who I am, and I'm trusting God with who I'm still becoming. And friend, I hope you can do the same.

A Prayer for the Woman Still Becoming

Heavenly Father, thank You for never giving up on the work You're doing in me. Help me release the mistakes, fears, and expectations that keep me tied to who I used to be. Give me the courage to grow, the humility to recognize where I need to change, and the patience to trust Your timing. Help me become a woman who reflects Your love, grace, and truth in the ordinary moments of life. Remind me that I don't have to have everything figured out because You are still working in me. In Jesus' name, Amen.