Change is not a neat, precisely measured march from Where You Were to Where You Want To Be. It is a wild and messy ballet, full of spastic leaps in directions that make no sense at the time, tiny hops, spins that go on for dizzying lengths of time.
Change is the single branch that only changed color in half its leaves. It is first losing weight in the one part of your body you were happy with. It is nearly reaching one goal only to realize it did not get you where you wanted to go. It is moving what you thought was one thing only to realize there are entire rooms that have been hidden from sight and desperately need your attention.
These are not setbacks.
These are not reasons to stop.
These are not mistakes you have made.
These are simply the signs that you stopped forcing yourself to march toward change and began dancing with it, even though you did not know all the steps, even though you had no shoes.