Trusting the Process: Finding Magic in the In-Between
Introduction
Hi friends! It’s been a while since my last post; life has felt busy and quiet all at once. Funny enough, it was actually a school assignment that inspired me to write again. We were asked, “What is your superpower?” and the question stopped me in my tracks. Since coming home from Florida, I’ve been in a bit of a slump, and the reminder I needed most was this: my superpower is the ability to connect with others.
It’s not something that’s always come naturally; it grew from mentors who saw potential in me, encouraged my creativity, and gave me the confidence to share my ideas. That was truly the best part of my year at Disney, connecting with people from all over the world, even as far as Norway. I miss my friends every day and can’t wait until I’ve saved up enough to plan my European adventure to visit them.
Even though I’m in this weird in-between space right now, I’m so grateful I took that year off to work at Disney. Every experience there helped me grow into a bigger, more grounded version of myself. Maybe now that means focusing on school, rediscovering balance, learning to trust the process, and accepting that I can’t run off to the castle every time I need an escape. Coming back from a year of magic to regular lectures and deadlines has felt like waking up mid-dream, but I’m realizing that this in-between phase is part of the bigger picture.
The Magic of the Detour
Something I learned straight out of high school and from living on my own is that detours can be a source of direction. After my first year, I leaped to transfer programs and schools, moving from life sciences to creative industries, following three transformative months working for Disney. I still remember how dark that first year felt and how my mom encouraged me to apply for the Disney summer program when I wasn’t sure where I was headed.
Even after accepting my offer, I was hesitant to go. Little did I know those three months would change everything. They helped me realize I was on the wrong path and that it was okay to pivot and completely rewrite my life plan. That shift was both terrifying and exciting. I started writing my blog, growing my LinkedIn network, and connecting with people who inspired me and continue to shape my career goals today.
That’s also why I was so eager to return to Disney for a whole year: to keep learning, growing, and networking with creatives across the company. Living at Flamingo Crossings, Disney’s residence for program participants, felt like a mix between a resort and a college campus. I’d run into friends at work on my days off, hang out by the pool, and be surrounded by people who made every moment feel special.
That year off allowed me to grow into myself, gaining confidence, creativity, and independence. It gave me a glimpse of the kind of career and life I want to build.
The Post-Disney Dip
Coming home has definitely been a hard adjustment. Don’t get me wrong, while I was in Florida, I found myself counting down the days to move back to the city, and I am happy to be home. But it still feels… off. After living in a completely different environment for a whole year, the transition back to “normal life” has been strange. As soon as I moved home, I jumped straight back into school and didn’t give myself time to reflect or process the year I’d just had.
Now, in the quiet moments, it hits me. I see my friends still having fun in Disney or living their lives back home in their own countries, and I can’t help but feel like I’m missing out. One of the biggest challenges has been accepting that my gap year delayed my graduation, which means I’ll be watching my age group walk the stage before me. It’s something I’ve had to make peace with, reminding myself that everyone’s timeline looks different and that right now, my priority is finishing school so I can guide my career in the direction I want.
It’s also felt lonely at times. Going from working full-time and interacting with guests and coworkers all day to spending hours behind a screen doing individual assignments has been a considerable shift. It almost feels like my life is on pause while I finish school, like I’m disconnected from the “real world.”
Dating has been another challenge since coming home. My friend and I created a profile for me just for fun, but honestly, it feels like another full-time job. Between school and part-time work, I’m struggling even to find time for my friends, let alone schedule dates. It’s funny how trying to “put yourself out there” can be as exhausting as it is exciting. Still, I’m learning to be patient with this part of life too, trusting that it will unfold naturally, just like everything else.
Having goals to look forward to, like training for a half-marathon at Walt Disney World with friends from my program, keeps me grounded. It reminds me that growth doesn’t always feel like progress; sometimes it just looks like showing up, even when things feel uncertain.
Seeing the Bigger Picture
Taking these quiet moments, moments I never really had while working at Disney and constantly being on the go, has made me realize how necessary stillness is for growth. When you’re continually moving, surrounded by people, and swept up in excitement, it’s easy to forget to check in with yourself. Now that I finally have that space, I’m learning that these quieter seasons are just as important as the busy, exhilarating ones. They’re where we prepare ourselves for what’s next.
Even though I’ve felt lonely at times, I know that putting my energy into these next two years of school is what’s best for me and my creative path. Every experience I had at Disney, from collaborating with people across departments to pushing myself out of my comfort zone, connects back to what I’m doing now. The projects, classes, and even the late nights spent studying are all part of the same story: the bigger picture of who I’m becoming.
When I first moved back to the city, I wanted everything to fall into place immediately: the dream job, the perfect relationship, and the sense that I had it all figured out. But that kind of alignment takes time. I’m realizing that right now isn’t about rushing to the finish line; it’s about trusting that everything is unfolding as it should.
Trusting the Process (When You Can’t See the End)
If there’s one thing this past year has taught me, it’s that trusting the process isn’t about always feeling certain; it’s about believing that each step, even the uncertain or lonely ones, is leading somewhere meaningful. My professors often remind us that these quiet, unbusy moments are essential for honing creativity. When you’re constantly moving, juggling tasks, and surrounded by people, it’s hard to pause and reflect. But it’s in the stillness, in those moments where you feel a little “off schedule,” that your creativity has the space to grow.
To stay grounded, I’ve been focusing on small, daily habits that remind me of who I am and what I want. Reconnecting with my creative side by writing posts like this, wandering the city for inspiration, or jotting down future ideas helps me remember why I chose this path in the first place.
Just today at work, someone said to me, “You have the best energy. How are you always like this?” I smiled, but the honest answer is my alone time. I’ve learned that my energy comes from recharging in solitude. I don’t go out often, but when I do, I like to be my whole, vibrant self, and that only happens when I’ve taken the time to rest and reset. In these busy years of school and self-discovery, it’s hard to avoid social pressure, but I’m learning that protecting my peace is part of the process too.
There are still days when I question everything, when I wonder if I’m doing enough or moving fast enough, but then I take a breath and remind myself: I’ve come this far, and that matters. The best things in life take time, and these chapters are essential to the story. If you’re in that same in-between space: finishing school, changing directions, or just sitting quietly with yourself, know that you’re not alone. These moments are shaping you in ways you can’t yet see.
Every phase has its purpose. Even when the ending isn’t clear, the story is still being written, one quiet, intentional step at a time.
Conclusion
Looking back, I can see how every step, even the uncertain or uncomfortable ones, has led me to where I am now. My story is still unfolding, and I’m beginning to realize that trusting the process means believing every season serves a purpose. The high-energy magic of Disney, the quiet reflection of school, and even the in-between days where I’m just figuring it all out, they all matter.
I may not have everything figured out yet, my career, my next adventure, or the exact direction my life will take, but I’m okay with that. I’ve learned that clarity comes through experience, not all at once. What I do have is purpose, drive, and trust that the right people, opportunities, and moments will arrive when they’re meant to.
This chapter of slowing down, rebuilding, and rediscovering is part of the bigger picture: the creative, purpose-driven life I’m building piece by piece. And while the view isn’t always clear from where I stand, I’m learning that hope, not certainty, is what keeps the story moving.
