For a long time, I thought I needed to figure it all out.

I needed to find the right career, the right place to live, the right way to structure my life. And once I found these things, I'd be set. I'd be 'there'.

That's not what happened.

In my 20s, I left my 'first Swedish life' and moved back to the US thinking that's where I would settle. In my 30's, I left an investment banking job and got my master's degree to become a teacher. I moved back abroad and I taught for 13 years. Then I left teaching for coaching. I came back to the US. I've been coaching for 16 years now, and along the way I became a slomad - living and working remotely with my partner, moving every few months.

Five reinventions. Three countries. MANY moves.

And somewhere in all of that, I realized: There is no getting 'there', at least not the way I thought there would be.

Life isn't about getting somewhere and staying. It's about getting closer and closer to what fits - and then adjusting again when what fits shifts.

Most of us are taught that there's supposed to be a final destination. Find your thing. Build your life. Stay the course. And if you keep changing direction, something must be wrong with you. You're flaky, or you can't commit, or you just can't figure out what you want.

I used to worry about that. Was I doing it wrong? Was I supposed to have settled into something more permanent by now?

Then I realized: there is no 'there' at all. We're all meant to keep evolving - some of us by deepening into one path, and some of us by changing paths entirely. Both are growth. Both are beautiful. And for me, I grow by moving.

When I stopped trying to reach some mythical endpoint - when I stopped thinking I needed to find the one perfect answer and stick with it forever - everything shifted.

I still plan. I still set goals. But I hold them more lightly now.

I know that what fits today might not fit in five years. I know that I might build something beautiful and then outgrow it, and that doesn't mean I built it wrong. It just means I grew.

Living as a slomad is the physical version of this philosophy. We don't have a permanent home. We're always in some kind of transition. And honestly? It fits.

Maybe not forever, but for now. And for now is enough.

Here's what I've noticed changes when you stop trying to get 'there':

You stop judging yourself every time you change your mind. You stop feeling like a failure when something that used to work doesn't anymore. You stop forcing yourself to stay in places, jobs, or versions of yourself that you've outgrown just because you're "supposed to."

You start trusting that this evolution is how it's meant to work, that it's growth and not a sign that something's wrong with you.

The questions shift too. Instead of "What's the one right answer?" you ask "What's the next right step?" Instead of "Where am I supposed to end up?" you ask "What wants to emerge now?" Instead of "Why can't I just be satisfied?" you ask "What am I being called toward?"

This doesn't mean you can't build anything lasting. I've been coaching for 16 years - that's lasted. But the way I coach has evolved. The clients I work with have evolved. The life I've built around my work has evolved.

You can build something solid and still let it change shape.

Maybe you're someone who finds their thing early and stays with it for life. That's beautiful, and there's nothing wrong with that path.

But maybe you're someone who keeps shifting, who outgrows things, who reinvents yourself again and again. That's beautiful too.

If you're in a transition right now - leaving something behind, creating something new, feeling like nothing quite fits the way it used to - I want you to know: you're not lost.

You're evolving. And evolution isn't a problem to solve or a detour to correct. It's the path itself.

You don't need to arrive anywhere - to get 'there'. You just need to keep moving toward what fits next.

And I promise you, that really is enough.

What would shift for you if you gave yourself permission to keep evolving toward what fits - instead of trying to arrive and stay?

Enjoy the exploration.