Estimated reading time: 7 minutes
What These Words Mean
There are seasons in your life when nothing feels settled. Old parts of you are fading, new parts are not quite real yet, and everything in between feels awkward and unfinished. That in-between space can feel like a problem you need to fix quickly. These words suggest something gentler: that the very mess you want to rush past might be the place where your life is most alive.
"The journey in between what you once were and who you are now becoming is where the dance of life really takes place."
"The journey in between what you once were" first points to the simple picture of a path between two points: who you used to be, and where you are heading. You can almost see a road stretching away from the old version of you – the way you used to think, react, love, work, hide, pretend. It hints at all the ways you have already changed: beliefs you have let go of, roles that no longer fit, dreams you quietly outgrew. Underneath that, there is a kind of grief and relief woven together. You are not that person anymore, and you cannot go back, even if you sometimes wish you could.
"And who you are now becoming" turns your attention toward something not fully formed yet. It is like looking at a sketch that is still being shaded in. There is movement, but no final outline. These words suggest that you are not a fixed identity; you are a work in progress, in real time. This coming version of you is not just about achievements or status. It is about your capacity to be more honest, more free, more aligned with what matters to you. There is also a quiet tenderness here: you are allowed to be unfinished and still worthy.
"Is where the dance of life really takes place" changes the focus completely. Up to now, it sounds like the important things are the old you and the future you. Here, you are told that the actual action, the real aliveness, happens in that uncertain space between them. The phrase brings to mind moving, stumbling, spinning, maybe even laughing on a floor that you are not entirely steady on. It suggests rhythm, risk, missteps, and joy all mixed together. The ordinary days when you are figuring things out, making decisions, dealing with disappointments, discovering small new strengths – that is the dance. You do not wait to live until you become some perfected version of yourself; life is happening in every awkward step right now.
You can feel this on a regular Tuesday. You sit in your car outside a job that drains you, knowing you cannot stay forever but also cannot afford to leave yet. Your hands rest on the steering wheel, slightly cold from the morning air, and you feel pulled between responsibility and desire. That conflict, that tug-of-war, is not outside your life. It is your life. Each conversation you have, each résumé you send, each boundary you test with your boss – that is you, mid-step in the dance.
To me, the strongest part of this quote is its refusal to treat you as a finished product. It quietly argues against that harsh inner voice that says, "Once you fix everything, then you can feel alive." It is saying: no, you are allowed to notice the music even while you are still learning the steps.
There is a limit, though. Sometimes the journey does not feel like a dance at all. It can feel like crawling through grief, illness, burnout, or survival. In those seasons, it might feel unfair or even irritating to call it a dance. Yet even then, there can be tiny movements of courage – answering one message, getting out of bed, telling the truth to one trusted person – that are still part of your becoming. Maybe the quote is not claiming that every moment is joyful, only that the movement itself, however clumsy or painful, is where your life is actually happening.
When you start to see your changing self this way, you stop postponing your right to be present. You do not have to wait for a future version of you to deserve your own attention. You are allowed to be here, mid-change, and call this chapter meaningful.
The Background Behind the Quote
Barbara De Angelis wrote and taught at a time when self-help and personal growth were moving into everyday conversation, especially in the United States from the late 20th century onward. She is widely known for her work on relationships, emotional healing, and inner transformation. Her books and talks often spoke to people who felt stuck between the lives they were "supposed" to live and the lives they quietly longed for.
The cultural mood around her work was a mix of opportunity and pressure. On one hand, there was growing freedom: more choices about career, love, family structures, and personal beliefs. On the other hand, there was a rising sense that you always had to be improving, optimizing, and reinventing yourself. Many people felt caught between old expectations from family or culture and new ideas about authenticity and personal fulfillment.
These words make deep sense in that context. They speak directly to people who feel they are in transition – leaving behind inherited roles, unfinished relationships, or limiting beliefs, but not yet sure who they are becoming next. Her focus on the "journey in between" challenges a culture obsessed with outcomes and success stories. It reminds you that the years spent growing, failing, trying again, and slowly reshaping your inner world are not just a prelude to life. They are life.
While quotes like this are often shared widely online and sometimes get detached from their original sources, this one fits clearly with the themes and tone that run through Barbara De Angelis’s work: the sacredness of everyday emotional change and the courage of becoming.
About Barbara De Angelis
Barbara De Angelis, who was born in 1951,
is an American author, teacher, and speaker best known for her work on relationships, emotional wellbeing, and personal transformation. She became widely recognized through bestselling books, television appearances, and seminars that focused on how people can love more deeply, live more consciously, and grow through their inner struggles instead of around them.
Throughout her career, she has written about topics like intimacy, communication, spiritual growth, and healing from past pain. Her style is practical but also deeply emotional; she often speaks to the private fears and longings that people carry but rarely name out loud. In a culture that often pushes quick fixes and surface-level success, she has consistently emphasized the importance of inner change – how you see yourself, how you treat your heart, how willing you are to evolve.
The quote about the "journey in between" fits her worldview perfectly. She does not see personal growth as a straight line from broken to fixed, or from lost to found. Instead, she treats the messy middle of change as sacred territory. By calling that in-between space the "dance of life," she encourages you to treat your struggles, doubts, and slow progress as meaningful, not embarrassing. Her work invites you to step more gently into your own becoming, and to recognize that the most important parts of your story are often written in the chapters you are tempted to rush past.
