Hey, it’s Cait.
This week, I sat down to record an episode with no outline, no bullet points—just a full heart and a messy brain. The only thing I knew was that I needed to talk about this idea that’s been chasing me down lately:
What’s meant for you will not miss you.
I wrote it on my whiteboard. And then I added: No exceptions.
That part surprised me. Because if I really believed it, why would I feel the need to clarify that? Probably because somewhere deep inside, there’s still a part of me that thinks maybe I’m the exception. Maybe I’m the one person who could do all the right things and still end up empty-handed. Maybe I missed my window. Or made the wrong choice. Or stayed too long in the wrong story.
But then I think about the math of being alive—how the odds of existing as you are, in this moment, are 1 in 400 trillion. And I remember: That’s what a miracle is.
You are not here by accident. You are not behind. You are not broken. You are not the one person this won’t work out for.
You are on purpose.
Even if you’re limping toward what you want. Even if the timeline looks different than you imagined. Even if you’ve made decisions that don’t make sense to anyone but you.
Especially then.
I talked in the episode about how I’ve always made choices from a place of inner truth, even when they came with consequences I didn’t anticipate. At 16, I quit soccer (for only a season) after tearing my ACL—but that choice, for that one season, changed the trajectory of my life. But I knew it was the right decision, even when it hurt. Even when it didn’t make sense to other people.
And that’s how I’ve lived most of my life. Not with a five-year plan, but with an inner compass. And sometimes that compass points to places that feel terrifying. Sometimes it feels like walking blindfolded through the dark. But every time I trust it, it gets louder. Clearer.
The truth is, we don’t get to know how it ends. But we do get to choose how we show up in the middle.
And the middle is where the magic is.
So if you’re here—confused, tired, maybe even doubting if you’re still “on track”—I want you to remember this:
The way your heart aches? The way you cry at both sunsets and commercials? The way you feel too much, want too much, try so damn hard to make it all matter?
That’s not evidence that you’re too much. That’s proof you’re still open.
And that’s everything.
So no—you're not the exception.
You're the evidence.
That healing and hurting can coexist.
That not knowing doesn't mean you're lost.
That becoming is messy—and still sacred.
You’re not late.
You’re just in it.
And you’re doing the brave thing.
Keep going. No exceptions.
to the brave thing,
Share this post