THE QUIET DISTANCE FROM OURSELVES

The quiet distance from ourselves

There are things in life we notice immediately.

We notice when a relationship no longer works. We notice when a business begins to struggle.

We notice when our bodies tell us they have reached their limits.

But there are other changes that happen so gradually that we often recognize them only after they have already become part of our everyday lives. One of them is the quiet distance from ourselves.

It does not happen overnight. It is rarely the result of a single decision. And it seldom begins with a crisis.

Quite the opposite. 

It often begins when life appears successful from the outside. When we are needed. When we carry responsibility. When others rely on us. When we have learned how to be strong.

Many women spend years building a life that works.

They care for families. Lead teams. Build businesses. Carry responsibility. 

Make decisions. Solve problems. Support others.

And often they do all of this with remarkable dedication. Yet somewhere along the way, something begins to shift.

Not around them. Within them. Life continues. The responsibilities remain.

The calendar stays full. The roles remain unchanged. And yet, the relationship with one's own life begins to change.

Not suddenly. Not dramatically. But almost imperceptibly.

Like the changing of a season. Like the ebb and flow of the tide.

Like a quiet movement within an inner landscape.

Many of the women I meet are not exhausted because they are not strong enough.

Nor because they are incapable. Quite the opposite. They are often the most responsible.

The most reliable. The most capable. The women who always find a way.

The women who keep going. The women who carry more than anyone sees.

And perhaps that is precisely why they are often the last to notice when they begin to drift away from themselves.

Because everything is still functioning.

The work. The family. The responsibilities. The expectations.

From the outside, very little seems to be missing.

And perhaps that is one of the greatest challenges of a successful life. Not failure.

But the possibility of functioning so well that we no longer notice how far we have drifted from our own inner voice.

At that point, many women begin searching for a solution.

A new goal. A new plan. A new project. Another training. Another strategy.

As if the discomfort needs to be fixed as quickly as possible.

But what if it is not a problem?

What if the discomfort is not a sign that something is wrong?

What if it is an invitation?

Quiet. Patient. Yet persistent. An invitation to pause. To listen.

To notice what may have been pushed aside for a very long time.

Perhaps the question is not how to return to the woman we once were.

Perhaps the question is how to meet the woman we have become.

Because people change.

Not only with age.

But with every experience that truly touches them.

With every loss.

With every responsibility.

With every truth they can no longer ignore.

And sometimes, between what has been and what is yet to come, a space emerges.

Uncertain. Uncomfortable. Without clear answers.

A space many people want to leave as quickly as possible.

And yet, it is often within this very space that the deepest transformation begins. Not in certainty. Not in control.

Not in immediately knowing what comes next.

But in being willing to remain with ourselves long enough to hear what life is trying to tell us.

Perhaps nothing is wrong. Perhaps you are not lost. Perhaps you are not ungrateful. Perhaps you are not lacking.

Perhaps you are simply changing.

And perhaps every meaningful transformation begins the moment we stop searching for what is wrong and start listening to the truth that has been quietly waiting to be heard.

-Jelica Stanojlovic, 7.June 2026

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