I used to think becoming meant arriving, that one day, I’d wake up and suddenly feel like I had it all figured out. A stable career. A clear purpose. Maybe even that confidence people carry when they finally “make it.” But life has a funny way of teaching you that becoming isn’t a destination, it’s a journey that never really ends.
For the longest time, I was in a constant rush to prove myself. I wanted my career to move fast, my name to be recognised, my work to speak so loudly that I wouldn’t have to explain who I was or what I did. But that kind of speed comes with noise, and in that noise, I started to lose myself.
I would scroll through other people’s lives on social media, comparing timelines, milestones, and achievements. Everyone seemed to be moving faster than me. Everyone seemed to know their purpose. And I? I was just trying to breathe through the pressure of it all.
Then one day, I paused.
Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. I was burnt out—physically, mentally, and creatively. I had constructed a life that appeared good from the outside but felt misaligned on the inside. That’s when it hit me: I wasn’t growing; I was just moving. I learned that growth doesn’t always look like progress. Sometimes, it manifests as silence, a slowdown, or walking away from things that no longer serve the person you are becoming.
In that season of stillness, I began to ask myself honest questions: What do I truly want? Who am I becoming when no one is watching? What does success mean to me, not what the world says it should mean?
The answers didn’t come immediately, but the clarity came slowly, in small moments of rediscovery. In one of those moments, I stumbled upon LinkedIn.
At first, it was just another platform. I would scroll through posts, read career stories, and quietly admire how people used words to build connection and influence. But the more I explored, the more I realised something within me came alive when I wrote, when I shared experiences, when I crafted stories, when I helped people and brands show up authentically online.
What started as curiosity soon became purpose.
I discovered a world where storytelling and strategy met. a space where creativity could drive visibility, and authenticity could open doors. That was how I found my path in social media marketing, brand influencing, and digital storytelling.
LinkedIn became my canvas, and words became my way of impact.
I learned to show up, not as the person I thought people wanted to see, but as myself. That authenticity began to attract opportunities, collaborations, and genuine connections. Brands reached out. People trusted my voice. And for the first time in a long time, I felt aligned like I was walking in purpose, not chasing it.
This becoming taught me patience. It taught me to embrace uncertainty, to trust timing, and to see detours not as delays, but as direction. Every “not yet” was a lesson. Every closed door redirected me to something I didn’t know I needed. And that is the beauty of finding your path. It doesn’t happen all at once. You grow into it, little by little, through mistakes, pauses and bold leaps of faith.
Today, I no longer rush through life trying to catch up. I’m learning to enjoy the process, the becoming, the unbecoming, and the rediscovering. Social media marketing and brand storytelling didn’t just give me a career; they gave me clarity. They reminded me that even in the noise of the digital world, there’s power in being authentic, intentional, and kind.
I’m still figuring things out, but this time, I’m doing it with grace. Because maybe becoming isn’t about finally arriving. Maybe it’s about learning to be present, to appreciate where you are, even as you reach for where you’re going. I no longer rush through life trying to catch up. I’m learning to enjoy the process, the becoming, the unbecoming, and the rediscovering.
Social media marketing and brand storytelling didn’t just give me a career; they gave me clarity. They reminded me that even in the noise of the digital world, there’s power in being authentic, intentional, and kind. I’ve learned that every version of me, the confused, the curious, the confident, has played a role in shaping who I am becoming. And maybe that’s what growth really means: showing up, evolving, and choosing yourself every single time.
So, if you’re still figuring it out, don’t rush the process. Your path may not look like anyone else’s, but it’s yours for a reason. Keep becoming.
