Stop Waiting, Start Choosing: Building What’s Next (Even in the Messy Middle)

Here’s the thing about the messy middle: at some point, you get tired of just sitting there.

After weeks of rejection emails, pajama “workdays,” and late-night Google searches about how to reinvent myself, I realized something: I was waiting around for someone else to pick me.

It felt a lot like elementary school dodgeball. Remember that? Standing in a line, hoping desperately not to be picked last while silently calculating whether you’d survive a ball to the face? That was me — except instead of gym class, it was job interviews. And instead of hoping for the kid with the best aim to call my name, I was hoping a principal or hiring manager would look at me and say, “Yep, she’s the one.”

But here’s the truth I didn’t want to face: sometimes you can’t wait to be picked. Sometimes you have to walk off the dodgeball line, grab your own ball, and start your own game.

So that’s what I’m doing.

This fall, I’m stepping into substitute teaching full time. Is it glamorous? No. Is it predictable? Also no. Will it give me the flexibility to pay the bills and build HeyKate on the side? Absolutely.

I’ve also decided to dive into a Master’s program at WGU. Terrifying? Yes. Necessary? Also yes. Because I want to grow. I want to sharpen my skills, create a career path that isn’t held hostage by levy votes and budget cuts, and finally learn how to use technology without yelling at it.
(Okay, let’s be honest. I’ll still be yelling at it. But at least this time it’ll be “educated swearing.” You know, fancier curse words I can back up with a degree.)

And then there’s HeyKate. This little blog, these podcast episodes, the TpT resources, the creative experiments — they’ve all been seeds. Tiny things I’ve been planting while wondering if they’d ever turn into something. But here’s the shift: instead of waiting for someone to hand me a seat at their table, I’m starting to cook my own meals.

I was tired of throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what stuck. So now? I’m writing my own menu. And let’s be real — some dishes will flop. (Looking at you, cauliflower pizza crust. Why did I think that was a good idea?) But some might actually turn out delicious.

Waiting felt powerless. Choosing feels messy, but it also feels strong.

I don’t have all the answers yet. I’m still in the middle, still juggling laundry and lesson plans and Canva fonts. But I’m not waiting for permission anymore. I’m grabbing an apron, pulling out the ingredients I’ve got, and making something new.

So if you’re stuck in your own messy middle, maybe it’s time to stop waiting, too. Write your own menu. Burn a few recipes if you have to. Swear at the Wi-Fi while you do it. At least you’ll know you’re cooking up a life that’s yours.

Because sometimes the power isn’t in being chosen. It’s in choosing.