The Wrong Train

A reflection on course correction, delayed decisions, and the cost of staying on a path that was never right.

Sometimes you realize you’re on the wrong train.

Not because you weren’t paying attention.
Not because you didn’t care.
But because at the time, it felt like the right platform, the right door, the right moment.

At first, getting off feels unnecessary.
You tell yourself it might still work.
That the destination could change.
That effort, patience, or love will eventually bend the tracks.

But trains don’t negotiate with intent. They only move forward.

Every station you pass makes the correction heavier.
More explanations. More attachments. More weight.
What could have been a quiet step off becomes a public, painful reversal.

Course correction is rarely about weakness.
It’s about admitting that staying feels easier than choosing right.

The longer you wait, the further you travel from where you were meant to go.
And sometimes the bravest decision isn’t to endure the ride,
but to stop, step out, and accept that you should have chosen differently.