Embracing the Beauty of Being Unfinished

If you’d asked me ten years ago what life at 45 would look like, I would’ve painted a picture that was, at best, wildly naive. I figured by now I’d have it all figured out: a successful corporate career, thriving relationships, and a rock-solid sense of self. I thought life would be one of those “paint-by-numbers” masterpieces my grandpa used to paint—structured, polished, and complete.

Instead, here I am, staring at another blank canvas, one that’s begging for something more like abstract art. And honestly? I’m terrified and loving it all at the same time.

The Messy Reality of Being Human

Being “unfinished” isn’t just a phase or a stage of life; it’s the essence of what it means to be human. It’s messy and weird and occasionally makes you question every decision you’ve ever made. But it’s also freeing. It means we’re constantly growing, evolving, and discovering. And let’s be real—how boring would life be if we had it all figured out by now? No thank you!

Cosmic Redirection

For me, this realization hit like a cosmic 2×4 many, many times. First, during my divorce. Then, when I got remarried, there was hope for a new chapter. But not long after, I learned I couldn’t have kids the old-fashioned way. Two failed adoptions later, I got the message: Ok, Universe! I get it—I’m not meant to be a mom.

Then came the gut punches: both of my grandmothers and one of my dogs, all gone within three months. That calamity of grief, identity, and destiny shook me to my core. It woke me up to the fact that the life I’d been living wasn’t designed for me—it was designed for someone else.

Cue the search for answers. I moved four times in two years—two of which were cross-country—just as COVID locked us all down and the murder of George Floyd rocked the world, igniting calls for global, societal change. (Spoiler alert: we’re still waiting for that.) Those years were a blur of books, classes, mentors, programs, traveling, healers, therapists…you name it, I tried it. And still, I couldn’t figure out why I had all this education, experience, and training, and yet I felt so untethered, like I didn’t belong anywhere.

A Diagnosis and a Revelation

Fast forward to this year. At age 45, I was diagnosed with combined-type ADHD and level 1 ASD. Suddenly, a lifetime of feeling “different” made sense. The overachieving, the burnout, the constant sense that I was swimming against a current only I could feel—all of it clicked. But with that clarity came a deeper truth: I’m not a finished product. I never was. And I never will be.

Welcome to The Unfinished Human

That’s where The Unfinished Human comes in.

This blog is about embracing the fact that none of us have it all together, no matter what age we are or how polished our Instagram feeds look. It’s about recognizing that life doesn’t come with a tidy bow; it comes with layers, detours, and lessons we didn’t even know we needed. It’s about finding meaning in the mess and beauty in the chaos. It’s about being perfectly imperfect.

So, what does being “unfinished” mean?

It means letting go of the myth that we’ll reach some magical point where everything finally makes sense. It means accepting that growth doesn’t have an expiration date. It means realizing that the journey is the whole damn point.

Maybe you’re like me—navigating middle age, grappling with the curveballs life keeps throwing, and wondering when things are supposed to get “easy.” Maybe you’re in a different phase, but the same truth applies: We’re all works in progress. And that’s okay.

Through this blog, I hope to share my own messy, imperfect journey and invite you to embrace yours. Together, we’ll explore what it means to grow, learn, and evolve—not to “fix” ourselves, but to uncover the parts of us we’ve been too busy, scared, or overwhelmed to see.

So, here’s to being unfinished. To the layers, the lessons, and the beautifully imperfect journey we’re all on.

Welcome to The Unfinished Human. Let’s see where this ride takes us.