So, here’s a plot twist I didn’t see coming.
When I signed up for this program, I thought, “Okay girl, you got this. One year. Lock in, study hard, collect your certificate, then secure that job with a decent paycheck and benefits that make you sigh with relief.”
Cute, right?
Turns out… the course is part-time. Which means not one year. It could take up to two. Two. As in double what I mentally, emotionally, and financially prepared for.
Cue internal screaming. Cue aggressive tea drinking. Cue the five-minute meltdown I had on my couch with a blanket over my head and a toddler using my foot as a drum.
I won't lie — I spiraled a little.
Because it’s not just about the “two years” on paper. It’s what it represents for me. I had a whole little roadmap in my head. Study for a year, be employable, get a remote role, rebuild my life quietly and proudly — while my kids watch their mama rise.
Now that map is blurred. Now it feels like I’m walking through fog with nothing but vibes, prayers, and Canva Free.
But after the fog lifted (and I finished my pity party snacks), I realized: maybe this isn’t a delay. Maybe it’s an invitation to slow down and build deeper, not just faster.
Because let’s be real — I wasn’t just signing up for school. I was signing up for transformation. And that doesn’t always run on a 12-month calendar.
Here’s what I’m telling myself now:
Two years isn’t forever. It’s just… longer than I expected. But time is still moving, and so am I.
My dream job is still out there. I can still look, apply, and grow while I study — even if I haven’t graduated yet.
Online business is still on the table. Whether I sell one printable or none this month, I’m still building something that matters to me.
Healing doesn’t happen on a deadline. And neither does becoming.
So yeah — I thought I was on a fast track. But maybe I’m on a faith track.
And on this track, we pack snacks, allow breakdowns, and re-imagine the plan mid-journey. Because life rarely goes as we scheduled it in our planners. (Especially if you're a mom trying to do online school while pretending you're not overwhelmed.)
So if you’re in the middle of a timeline you didn’t ask for… I see you.
This isn't failure. This is the long way. And honestly? The long way still gets you there.
I’m still showing up. I’m still logging in. I’m still choosing hope — even if it’s half-charged and held together with instant noodles.
Two years or not… I’m doing this.
And if you’re doing it too — in your own messy, beautiful, delayed way — welcome. You’re not behind. You’re just human.
Let’s breathe, snack, and begin again.