MJ’s Mailbox: Learning to Move Forward Again
- MJ Wynn
- 6 days ago
- 3 min read
I don’t get a ton of letters these days, but I got one recently from someone I’m calling Confused but Trying — basically, all of us at some point, and their message stuck with me. It’s the kind of letter that makes you pause and go, ‘Oh… yeah, I get that.’ So let’s talk about it.
Hey MJ,
I’ve been reading your blog for a while now and something about your moving post really stuck with me. I’m not moving anywhere huge, but my roommate just left, and suddenly my tiny apartment feels way too quiet and empty. It’s kind of messed with my head—like, I have all this space, but also, I don’t know what I’m doing with it.
I guess my question is… how do you know when it’s time to actually make a change instead of just sitting in limbo? I feel like I’ve been floating through life, doing the same routine, and I’m scared that if I try to change things, I’ll just mess everything up. But at the same time, staying the same feels miserable.
- Confused but Trying
First of all—thank you for trusting me with this. Quiet apartments have a way of exposing every thought we’ve been avoiding, don’t they? It’s like the moment the door closes behind someone else, the silence suddenly turns into a mirror you didn’t ask for. I’ve been there. Honestly, I still slip back into that feeling sometimes.
You said something that really stood out to me: “I have all this space, but I don’t know what I’m doing with it.” And here’s the thing no one tells you—most people don’t know what to do with their space at first. Emotional space, physical space, mental space… it all feels too big when you’re used to navigating life in smaller, tighter versions of yourself.
When my girlfriend and I decided to move, it wasn’t because I had everything figured out. It wasn’t even because the timing was perfect. It was because staying stuck in a place that didn’t fit us anymore felt worse than the risk of trying something new. That’s usually how change starts—not with confidence, but with the quiet realization that you can’t keep repeating the same day forever.
And that “floating” feeling you mentioned? That’s not failure. That’s the first symptom of growth.
Floating happens in the space between who you were and who you’re becoming. You’re not lost—you’re transitioning. It’s uncomfortable as hell, but it’s also a sign that something inside you is tugging toward a different version of life.
Here’s the part I want you to sit with:
Change doesn’t need to be dramatic to be real. You don’t need to move across the country or reinvent your identity. Sometimes change looks like:
rearranging a room so it actually reflects you
signing up for something you’ve always been curious about
committing to a small routine shift that breaks the autopilot
allowing yourself to want more than survival mode
acknowledging that you’re lonely instead of pretending you’re fine
And sometimes? It’s just admitting, “I don’t know what I’m doing,” and deciding that’s enough of a reason to try something different.
You’re scared you’ll mess everything up. But staying exactly where you are—emotionally, mentally, physically—is still a choice. And it sounds like that choice is already making you miserable.
So maybe the better question is: What would happen if you gave yourself permission to try anyway?
You don’t have to change your whole life overnight. You don’t even have to know what the final picture looks like. You just have to take one step that interrupts the limbo.
Let it be small. Let it be imperfect. Let it be yours.
You won’t mess everything up. You’re already paying attention.And that’s usually the first sign you’re ready.
You’ve got this, babe. Truly.
— mj
Comments