Living in limbo is uncomfortable.

It’s waking up and not knowing what your life looks like six months from now. It’s missing someone and trying not to text them. It’s rebuilding independence while still wishing you didn’t have to.

It’s grieving a future that felt certain, while trying to build a new one you didn’t ask for

The Emotional Side of Limbo

Limbo feels quiet in a way I’m not used to.

I used to have a full social life. Plans every week. A house that felt like home. A person who felt like safety. Even when things were hard, I knew who I was beside.

Now I’m learning who I am on my own.

Some days I feel strong. I tell myself this is character building. That this is the season where I learn to stand on my own two feet.

Other days I feel like I’ve lost everything at once.

It’s strange grieving something that’s technically still alive in the world — just not yours anymore.

It’s strange knowing the person you love wants you to be independent, and realising you do too… but not like this.

Not apart.

The Practical Side of Limbo

There’s also the reality of it.

I handed in my notice for a job I didn’t love to start university in January. Then university got deferred until September.

So now I’m:

• Back at my dad’s
• Job hunting
• Budgeting carefully
• Trying to prepare emotionally and financially for a life change that’s still months away

It would be easy to see this time as wasted. But I’m trying to see it differently.

This is time to save.
Time to build new routines.
Time to work on my mental health.
Time to create stability that isn’t dependent on anyone else.

If I want to stand on my own two feet — really stand — this is where it starts.

What I Am Learning by Being in Limbo

Limbo is teaching me that identity can’t only exist inside a relationship.

It’s teaching me that safety can’t only be a person.

It’s teaching me that uncertainty doesn’t mean failure.

I don’t have the neat ending yet. I don’t have the “and then everything worked out” paragraph.

I’m still in it.

I still miss him.
I still question everything.
I still wish things had unfolded differently.

But I’m also:

• Writing.
• Planning.
• Hanging out with friends and making new ones.
• Starting a new job.
• Showing up for myself in small ways.

Maybe limbo isn’t empty.

And maybe, quietly, it’s building the next version of me.

If you’re here too — in between what was and what will be — you’re not alone.

We’re just becoming. 🤍