By early February, the noise of January and talk of transition usually drops away.

What’s left is often the same question – just without the countdown attached to it. For many women, this is the point where things quietly slow down. Not because something’s gone wrong, but because the transition has started to feel real.

The part no one really talks about

There’s a lot of noise around starting a business. Very little is said about the lead-up to launch.

The bit that comes after “Oh my god, I’ve decided, I’m in” and before “I’ve done it, it’s all in place, this is happening.”

That middle stage is rarely talked about.

Before now, it was maybes and could I’s.
Conversations with friends. With partners. With family.
Brainstorming ideas, approaches, possibilities.

Then something shifts.

This business – your business – stops being hypothetical. It’s close enough to touch.

And when responsibility lands – financially, emotionally, practically – many women slow down.

Not because they’re avoiding, but because they’re trying to hold it carefully.

Stalling at this stage isn’t a failure. It’s what happens when responsibility becomes real.

This is often the moment most women try to carry everything alone – the decision, the sequencing, the risk – inside their own heads, and it’s heavy.

The certainty trap in transition

For a long time, I believed certainty was the missing piece.

I watched people around me step into new things, embrace change, build momentum. And while I was genuinely happy for them, I also felt jealous – or broken – like everyone else knew something I didn’t.

What kept me stuck wasn’t fear or lack of ability.

It was waiting to feel certain before taking a first step.

I thought certainty would show up first – as confidence, clarity, or some internal green light. But it never did.

What I’ve learned since is simple, but not obvious: Certainty isn’t part of this process of transition. Safe, steady movement is.

What movement actually gives you

The shift came when I stopped asking myself how to feel ready, and started asking how to move safely enough.

Small, steady steps became my reality. And unexpectedly, they became my success.

Not because they removed uncertainty – but because they gave me something far more useful.

Movement gave me:

• information
• feedback
• awareness of my own capacity and boundaries
• self-trust built through doing, not thinking

That’s why I now see certainty for what it is at this stage: a false signal. Safe, steady movement is the skill that actually matters here. That kind of movement can be:

• learned
• supported
• designed — not forced

The real question usually isn’t “How do I feel certain?” It’s “How do I move without everything becoming final?”

Holding the decision differently

This is the work I do with women inside Hold Steady.

Not pushing.
Not rushing.
Not manufacturing confidence.

But creating the conditions for movement that doesn’t tip into panic, pressure, or self-abandonment, or even though that’s the most common narrative around change.

There’s no expectation that you’ll need that support.
And there’s nothing you should be doing right now.

Just this reminder:

You’re not behind, and slowing down here isn’t avoidance – it’s care.

If things feel heavier at this stage, it’s not a sign you’re doing it wrong.

It’s a sign that what you’re stepping into actually matters.