On Freedom, Faith, and the Woman Still Becoming
“Listen carefully, I am about to do a new thing, now it will spring forth; will you not be aware of it? I will even put a road in the wilderness, rivers in the desert.” — Isaiah 43:19 (AMP)
A Milestone Worth Naming
This is Blog #50.
I want to pause and let that land for a moment — because a year ago, I wasn’t sure I’d still be here doing this. Not in a dramatic way. Just in the quiet, uncertain way that most new things feel when you’re standing at the beginning of them, wondering if you have enough to keep going.
Fifty blogs. Fifty Wednesdays. Fifty times I sat down, got honest, and trusted that someone out there needed to hear exactly what God was putting on my heart.
And I want to be transparent with you — I’m still writing, even though I’m not sure if anyone is reading. We live in an era when long-form blogs aren’t exactly in vogue. Most people prefer concise, brief, and easily digestible content. But as a writer, this is my jam. This is where I live.
I have big hopes, aspirations, and dreams for this blog.
But even if no one is reading it now — even if no one reads it until after I’m no longer here and with Jesus — I still believe I’m supposed to be writing it.
I don’t know many Bible verses, but then again, I know plenty. I’m no Bible teacher or eloquent speaker. But I know Jesus. And I know without a doubt that He knows me and He knows my heart.
I even wrote about this tension on LinkedIn last week — about how hard it is to be a writer who loves long-form content in a world dominated by reels and 10-second videos. About building something that goes against the grain. About showing up anyway.
I only received a few responses, but they reminded me that there are still people seeking depth and substance, content that provokes thought and emotion. They may not be the majority — but they’re my people, and they will find me. Not just that, they’re worth showing up for.
At just the right time, those who are supposed to find these words will find them, and God will be pleased.
That’s all that matters to me.
If you’ve been here from the beginning — thank you. If you just found me, welcome. Either way, I’m glad you’re here for this one. 💜
“Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us.” — Ephesians 3:20 (AMP)
The Friend No One Recognized
Nobody told me menopause would become one of my closest friends.
I heard about the hot flashes, night sweats, and brain fog. And let’s not forget about the weight gain that appears overnight, like an uninvited houseguest who refuses to leave. I wrote about all of that in Blogs 6 and 12 — the crash, the breaking, the slow and messy climb toward healing.
But this? This is the part they really don’t tell you.
Menopause is giving me back to myself.
Not the self I was at 5, 15, or 25 — eager to please, desperate to be enough, carrying weight I didn’t even know I was carrying.
Not her.
Something better. Something truer.
Menopause may very well be introducing me to my true self.
What Freedom Actually Looks Like
I think we often picture freedom as a grand, dramatic moment marked by trumpet sounds. You picture the chains falling off, and you walk out into the sunlight, arms wide open, completely healed and whole.
That’s not how it happened for me.
Freedom, for me, has looked quieter than that.
It has looked like:
Saying no without a three-paragraph explanation.
Sitting with a need — an actual need of my own — and not immediately asking myself if it’s selfish.
Recognizing a people-pleasing impulse before I act on it. Just noticing it. That’s new.
Asking God what I want — and actually waiting for the answer instead of filling the silence with what everyone else needs.
There is nothing wrong with having standards. However, I must be honest — in the past (in many situations), I lowered mine. Why? To spare feelings. To avoid being seen as mean or too rigid. To hold onto relationships that, if I’m truthful, weren’t the best for me anyway. I compromised my standards out of fear.
I no longer want to do that.
And when I look back — really look — I feel disappointment at some of the choices I made. But I’ve also come to understand something important: I couldn’t have arrived at this clarity without making those past decisions. Every one of them brought me here.
And the great thing? All of it — every lowered standard, every compromised boundary, every moment of people-pleasing, every fear-driven decision — all of it brought me closer to the Lord.
“And we know with great confidence that God, who is deeply concerned about us, causes all things to work together as a plan for good for those who love God, to those who are called according to His plan and purpose.” — Romans 8:28 (AMP)
That’s not just a scripture I’ve memorized. That’s my testimony.
It’s not perfect. I’m not standing on the other side of all of this waving a flag. I’m still in the middle of it. But I am freer than I have ever been in my life. And that freedom has a friend to thank.
The Neurochemical Reboot
In Blog #49, I shared what hormone expert Dr. Mindy Pelz teaches about estrogen — how it bathes the brain in neurochemicals that keep women attuned to the needs of others, how menopause triggers a massive neurochemical reboot. As estrogen levels decline, the neurons that drive people-pleasing behavior are pruned away, and the female brain undergoes a process of rewiring.
God. Mind. Body.
All three are moving toward freedom simultaneously.
That reboot isn’t just a loss.
It’s a recalibration.
But here’s what I want to add to that in this blog:
Your brain isn’t broken. It’s being rebuilt for a new season.
A season where your own needs finally have a seat at the table.
A season where the question “What do I want?” doesn’t feel selfish — it feels like the most honest thing you’ve ever asked.
Menopause didn’t just change my hormones.
It changed my relationship with myself.
Faith in the Fog
If I’ve learned anything in 55 years, it’s that pretending doesn’t serve anyone.
There are still foggy days. Days when I don’t feel free. Days when the old patterns whisper loudly, and the new ones feel fragile. Days when I look in the mirror and the woman staring back at me feels more like a question than an answer.
On those days, I go back to Isaiah 43:19.
“I am about to do a new thing — now it will spring forth. Will you not be aware of it?”
God doesn’t ask me to have it all figured out.
He asks me to be aware. To pay attention. To notice what He is doing even when I can’t see the full picture yet. To trust Him.
Faith in the fog isn’t about certainty. It’s about trust.
It’s about choosing, one day at a time, to believe that the road God is building through the wilderness is real — even when all I can see is wilderness.
That’s where I live some days, in the wilderness.
But I am not lost there. Not anymore.
The Woman I Am Becoming
Here’s what I know about her — the woman I am becoming:
She is done shrinking to make other people comfortable.
She asks for what she needs — not perfectly, not without fear sometimes, but she asks.
She has compassion for the little girl she once was, instead of frustration. She understands now why that little girl did what she did. She was surviving. And she did it well.
She is learning — slowly, faithfully — to live from the inside out instead of the outside in. From her own values rather than other people’s expectations. From God’s voice instead of the noise.
She is not who she was at 25.
She is not who she was at 40.
She is not even who she was at 50.
She is 55, almost 56, and she is just getting started.
And menopause? That uninvited, disruptive, exhausting, humbling, clarifying season?
It was the friend who looked her in the eye and said, “Enough shrinking. It’s time to become.”
A Word to the Woman Still in the Fog
If you’re reading this and you’re in the thick of it — not on the other side, not healed, not free yet — I see you.
You are not behind. You are not broken. You are not too far gone.
You are becoming. And becoming is not a moment — it’s a lifelong walk in faith.
Permit yourself to be exactly where you are. Ask God to meet you there — because He will. He always does.
And when menopause feels like the enemy? Remember this:
Sometimes the things that disrupt us most are the very things God uses to free us.
Speaking of Romans 8:28, it is crystal clear to me that God has had His hand on my life from the beginning. I think about situations that could have gone very differently. I think about the people I’ve met in my travels, even as a little girl, who have very clearly illustrated how great God is. So even as I recall some of the things that didn’t go so well, it could have been worse. The fact that I’m still here and able to share this messy middle of my life is a great gift.
If you’re reading this and you’re in your own messy middle — praise God for it. It’s an opportunity to know Jesus in a way you never have before. It’s an opportunity to share how your relationship with the Lord has helped you navigate your messy middle and encourage your sister to do the same.
You’ve got to hold the Lord Jesus’ hand tightly with every step through your faith journey — especially the messy middle. I know that I can’t have a faith journey without Jesus. He is my anchor.
Reflection & Journal Prompts
Take some time to sit with these questions — just you and God.
Reflect
What has this season of life taken from you — and what has it given back?
What does freedom actually look like for you right now? Not the dramatic version — the quiet, daily version.
Talk to God
Where are you still waiting for God to make a road in your wilderness? Tell Him. Be specific.
Recognize the Woman Becoming
How is the woman you are becoming different from the woman you were ten years ago?
What is one thing the woman you are becoming would do differently — starting today?
If these questions stirred something in your heart, I’d love to hear from you. With God, there is nothing we cannot face, uncover, or heal. Sometimes, simply sharing the journey is where healing begins.
Reach out. I’d love to hear from you.
Life is a faith journey. Walk boldly — even when you’re still becoming.
Be brave enough to embrace the woman emerging. 💜
Be faithful enough to hold the Lord Jesus’ hand tightly through every step — especially the messy middle. 💜
Be kind enough to extend grace to yourself along the way. 💜
He is my anchor. And He can be yours too.
Before I go, a personal note:
My beloved Granny went home to be with Jesus this week. I’ll be taking some time away to be with my family and lay her to rest. Blog #51 will return on Wednesday, April 15th. Thank you for your grace, your kindness, and your prayers during this time. 💜
— Tami Zanele
