“I always imagined that “becoming her” would involve a sleek ponytail, a full diary, a home scented permanently of peonies, and a partner who could actually use a washing machine. I didn’t think it would involve God breaking me down like a dodgy IKEA bookshelf and rebuilding me plank by emotional plank.

Yet here we are.

I'm thirty-three, single, living in a small flat with questionable heating, and, shockingly, not remotely where I thought I’d be by now. But I have peace. Not the fluffy sort you get after a bubble bath and a scented candle. No, the kind of peace that’s been fought for, gritted teeth, cried-out-eyes, ugly-prayed peace.

Plot Twist: God Had a Plan

In my twenties, I was all ambition and spreadsheets. I had a five-year plan, a ten-year vision, and a seventeen-tab Google Doc. But God had a different timetable. Mine involved promotions, destination weddings, and a solid skincare routine. His? Well, His involved heartbreak, redundancy, unexpected medical diagnoses, and learning how to ask for help when you’re used to being the helper.

I still remember sitting in my car one January afternoon, clutching a crumpled letter that told me I hadn’t got the job I’d desperately prayed for. I was thirty, jobless, and, horror of horrors, back living with my mother, who greeted me every morning with, “You didn’t sleep much last night, did you?” (Translation: I heard you crying through the walls again.)

Character Building: God’s Favourite Pastime

Turns out, God doesn’t shape identity in the quiet and the calm. He does it in the storm. And often through the bits we want to edit out of our testimonies.

There was the toxic relationship I swore was “the one” because he could quote a couple of Psalms and wasn’t afraid of commitment (to FIFA, mainly). There was the time I thought I was called to lead worship, only to discover that no one, not even the dog, enjoyed my singing. Then there was the burnout from trying to serve everyone except myself. I thought martyrdom was holy. Turns out, boundaries are too.

Through it all, God chipped away at the parts of me I didn’t know were in the way. The people-pleasing. The fear of being alone. The need to be seen as capable at all times, even when I was barely hanging on. He reshaped me through Scripture, therapy (yes, you can do both), and the voices of wise women who told me, “You don’t need to be everything to everyone. Just be faithful.”

What “Her” Actually Looks Like

Spoiler alert: Becoming “her” didn’t come with a glow-up. I mean, yes, I do have better eyebrows now, but the real change is quieter. Deeper. Less photogenic.

• She’s the woman who doesn’t spiral when plans fall apart because she trusts God has better ones.

• She’s the woman who says “no” without guilt and “yes” with intention.

• She’s the woman who’s no longer ashamed of her past, because it’s proof of God’s hand, not her failure.

• She’s the woman who prays first, even when she used to post first. (Still working on that one.)

• And some days, she’s still the woman who eats cereal for dinner and can’t find her keys. But she’s grounded. Rooted. Becoming.

Final Thought (Because I’m Not Wise Enough for More Than One)

If you’re in the trenches, whether it’s heartbreak, unemployment, loneliness, or just general confusion, please know: you’re not behind. You’re in process. And process isn’t punishment. It’s preparation.

God’s not in a rush with your story. He’s not waiting for you to be polished before He uses you. He’s working right in the chaos, right in the waiting, and yes, even in your mother’s spare room.

So, chin up. Bible open. Cry if you must (preferably not in the frozen foods aisle, but hey, no judgement). God’s way of shaping us rarely makes sense in the moment, but on the other side? It’s the very thing that makes us her.”

By Summer Noel (_summernoel_)