Why “Getting Back to Normal” Isn’t the Goal — And What to Aim for Instead
In the midst of personal transitions, it’s natural to long for something familiar. To try to retrace your steps. To ask, “How can I get back to the way things used to be?” Especially when the ground beneath you feels unstable, the idea of going back to normal can seem comforting, like a safe harbor after a storm.
But what if that old “normal” wasn’t really serving you?
What if this strange, uncertain chapter you’re in now isn’t a detour—but the beginning of a much deeper transformation?
In this article, we’ll explore why the impulse to return to your old self or former life is often more about survival than alignment—and what to reach for instead if you’re in a season of change.
1. The Myth of “Back to Normal”
We often associate “normal” with safety. With predictability. With a version of ourselves that didn’t question so much, didn’t feel so uncertain, didn’t have so many raw edges exposed.
But normal is often just another word for familiar—and familiar isn’t always aligned.
Many of us built our “normal” lives from unconscious beliefs. We learned how to succeed in systems that rewarded us for performing, pleasing, achieving, or suppressing our truth to fit in. We shaped ourselves to be who we were expected to be, not necessarily who we really are.
So when something inside us begins to shift—when the old roles no longer feel sustainable, when the job or relationship or rhythm starts to feel off—it’s not that we’re broken. It’s that we’re waking up.
The desire to return to normal is often the nervous system reaching for safety. But real alignment asks something different. It asks us to move forward, not backward. To evolve toward truth, not retreat into familiarity.
2. The In-Between: Why It Feels So Uncomfortable
Before we can rebuild something new, there’s often a season of in-between. A space where the old no longer fits, but the new hasn’t fully arrived.
This is the part no one talks about.
It’s the part where the clarity hasn’t landed yet. Where your energy feels foggy. Where things slow down, not because you’re lazy or unmotivated—but because your system is recalibrating.
The in-between can be incredibly disorienting. You might question everything: your choices, your direction, your value. But this is also where the real work happens.
It’s where you begin to notice what was never really yours.
It’s where you get honest about what you’ve been holding onto out of habit, fear, or old identity patterns.
And it’s where you begin to choose something different—not from panic or pressure, but from a deeper knowing.
3. Why You Can’t Rush the Pivot
There’s a reason the clarity hasn’t arrived yet.
Clarity isn’t just a mental “aha.” It’s a nervous system experience. It’s something you feel when your inner world becomes safe enough to hold a new reality.
So many people try to force change from the outside. They switch jobs, move cities, launch something new—believing that action alone will resolve the discomfort.
And sometimes, those moves help. But more often, they just delay the real work.
Because the pivot isn’t just about changing what you do. It’s about changing who you believe yourself to be.
If you don’t feel safe being seen, the new opportunity won’t land.
If you don’t believe you’re worthy of rest, the new schedule won’t soothe you.
If you still carry the story that your value comes from being needed, you’ll recreate burnout again and again.
This is why slowing down matters. It’s not weakness. It’s where your system starts to rewire from survival to alignment.
4. What to Aim for Instead: Rebuilding from the Inside Out
So if “getting back to normal” isn’t the goal, what is?
It’s not about finding your next perfect role or checking the next box. It’s about choosing to rebuild your life from a more honest place. A place where your nervous system feels supported, your self-worth isn’t tied to output, and your decisions are rooted in what actually feels good—not just what looks good.
Here’s what that might look like in practice:
Choosing relationships where you’re allowed to have needs.
Allowing rest without guilt.
Releasing goals that no longer feel like yours.
Feeling safe saying no—even to things you used to say yes to.
Creating space to feel before you decide what to do.
This kind of life takes time to build. Not because you’re doing it wrong, but because you’re doing it differently than before. You’re not reacting. You’re responding from a more grounded, more integrated self.
This is the shift that lasts.
5. Why Slowness Is Often the Sign of True Change
If you’ve been in this space for a while, you might wonder: Why is it taking so long?
You’re not alone in that. And you’re not doing it wrong.
When the internal architecture of your life is shifting—your beliefs, your self-concept, your identity—change naturally slows down. Not because you're stuck. But because you're evolving.
Slowness gives your system time to adjust to the new version of you that’s emerging. It lets your body feel safe showing up differently. It gives you time to release patterns that once protected you.
This isn’t a setback. It’s a setup.
Many people abandon the process because they mistake slowness for failure. But the truth is, slowness is often a sign that you’re doing the deeper work. The sustainable work. The work that doesn’t need constant reinvention, because it’s built on self-trust.
6. Reframing the “Before and After” Narrative
We’re taught to measure change in dramatic “before and after” moments. The job quit. The new chapter. The big leap.
But real pivots don’t usually look like that.
They look like soft realizations over time. Like saying no to something small and feeling your body exhale. Like telling the truth about how tired you are. Like trusting that your timeline might not match anyone else’s—and that’s okay.
We need to normalize becoming.
We need to stop glamorizing clarity and start honoring the discomfort it often takes to find it.
Because your old life didn’t become misaligned overnight. And your new one won’t take shape overnight either.
The more permission you give yourself to be in-process, the less likely you are to abandon yourself when things don’t move fast enough.
7. You’re Not Lost. You’re Becoming Someone New.
Here’s something I want you to remember:
You’re not behind.
You’re not broken.
You’re not lost.
You’re just becoming someone who no longer fits into the old mold.
And that takes time.
Give yourself that time.
Not to fix yourself, but to rediscover the parts of you that never felt safe enough to lead. The parts of you that were silenced by over-functioning, perfectionism, or people-pleasing. The parts that are ready to build something softer, stronger, and truer.
This isn’t about going back. It’s about going deeper.
And from that place—everything else can unfold.
Ready for a deeper kind of clarity?
If this article resonates with you, and you're in a season of transition, I invite you to explore the Pivot Blueprint Reading.
This is a 1:1 session designed to help you make sense of the in-between you’re in — and find emotional clarity, direction, and grounded next steps based on your personal design.
We won’t force answers or rush your timeline. We’ll work with where you are now — and help you start building from there.
Your next chapter doesn’t start with “figuring it all out.”
It starts with seeing yourself more clearly.
In the midst of personal transitions, it’s natural to long for something familiar. To try to retrace your steps. To ask, “How can I get back to the way things used to be?” Especially when the ground beneath you feels unstable, the idea of going back to normal can seem comforting, like a safe harbor after a storm.