By Tracy Harper 
They were sitting side by side, comparing what came next.
One was finishing her senior year of high school, talking about the college she had chosen. The other was a year or two ahead—already working full-time in her field after taking a less traditional path to get there.
“I don’t know,” the younger one said. “I just feel like I have to explain my decision more than everyone else.”
The other nodded. “I remember feeling that way… I still do sometimes.”
They smiled a little—but not because it was funny. Because they both knew exactly what the other meant.
They both knew that quiet feeling of being just a little less than.
I’ve been having versions of this conversation with young women for over 20 years.
Sometimes it starts with where they’re going next. Other times, it shows up after they’ve already taken the next step—but not having everything figured out starts to feel like something’s wrong, and they think they’re supposed to be more sure of themselves by now.
The details change, but the pressure stays the same: to have it figured out, to sound sure of themselves, to make it look like everything is coming together—even when it isn’t.
But recently, I’ve started to feel this conversation differently.
Because now, I can see it coming for my own daughter as she moves closer to this same season.
But what if this stage of life isn’t supposed to feel settled yet?
What if not having everything figured out isn’t a sign that something’s wrong—but a sign that something is still unfolding?
That this season is meant for exploring, trying, learning, even changing direction along the way?
Most of the young women I sit with aren’t failing—they’re in the middle of discovering who they are and what they care about.
It just doesn’t always look as clear or as confident as they think it should.
Maybe the problem isn’t that they don’t know yet.
Somewhere along the way, “I’ve got this” or “I’ve got it figured out” started to feel like the goal, instead of something that unfolds over time.
But most of the meaningful things in life don’t come together all at once.
They’re discovered slowly—in conversations, in classes that spark something new, in paths that change direction along the way.
What looks uncertain from the outside may actually be something more purposeful than it seems—something being formed step by step, even when they can’t yet see where it’s leading.
That same pressure shows up in the questions they’re asked, too—the ones meant to celebrate them but that quietly measure them instead.
Questions like “Where are you going?” or “What’s next?” can feel less like curiosity and more like a test they’re supposed to pass.
And when they’re already unsure, those questions can make them feel like they need a better answer than the one they have.
And maybe what they need most in this season isn’t pressure to have it all figured out, but permission to be in the middle of it.
To take the next step without needing to have every step mapped out.
To trust that who they are isn’t defined by how impressive their plans sound, but by something far more steady and secure.
So when they start to wonder if they’re behind, or if their path doesn’t measure up, maybe the most important thing we can remind them is this:
They’re not late.
They’re not less than.
They’re right where they need to be—in the middle of figuring it out.
by Amy Keyes 
by Kimberly Patterson 
by Lacy Jo Donald 
