The Things We Don’t Count

Visible Milestones, Invisible Growth...

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how much of life we measure by what can be seen. We count the obvious things: the degree, the job, the promotion, the money saved. These are the things people can ask about. These are the things that fit neatly into a conversation when someone says, “So, what’s new?”

But so much of life does not fit into that question. There is no simple way to explain the year you spent trying to feel like yourself again. There is no certificate for learning how to say no without feeling guilty. No one claps for the day you finally leave something that has been hurting you. No one necessarily notices when you stop abandoning yourself in small ways. And yet, those are the things that change a person.

I think this is one of the reasons so many of us feel behind. We measure ourselves through visible markers while living through mostly invisible seasons. Someone else gets promoted, and we compare it to our uncertainty. That comparison is unfair from the beginning. We are comparing what can be seen in their life to what cannot yet be seen in ours.

The visible parts of a life often arrive last. Confidence may come after years of doubt. A healthy relationship may come after years of heartbreak. We see the flower and forget the roots.

I think about who I was a few years ago, when I wanted so badly to have proof that I was moving forward. I wanted something visible to point to. Something that would make all the uncertainty feel justified. I wanted to know that I was not wasting time, that I was becoming someone.

What I did not understand then was that growth was already happening. It just did not look like progress yet. It looked like surviving. It looked like being confused and still continuing. Maybe some seasons are not meant to look impressive. Maybe some seasons are meant to rebuild the person who will one day carry what is coming next.

And maybe not everything meaningful can be measured while it is happening.

Some growth is quiet because it is happening underneath the surface. Like roots growing in the dark. You cannot see them. You cannot show them to anyone. You cannot use them as proof. But without them, nothing would be able to bloom.

So maybe before deciding we are behind, we need to ask what we are not counting. The grief we carried. The courage it took to begin again. The patterns we are trying not to repeat. The softness we are learning after years of being hard on ourselves.

Those things count too. Maybe they count more than we think.

If you've been carrying the weight of invisible growth, or questioning whether you're further behind than you should be, I explore it more deeply in Episode 2 of Back to Being. You can listen wherever you get your podcasts!

Here is my questions for you: What are you carrying that no milestone could ever fully capture?

With heart,

Bahar