By Nahrizul Adib Kadri

It starts early, doesn’t it? The timeline.

Graduate by 23. Get a stable job by 25. Buy a house. Get married. Start a family. Get promoted. Retire at 60 with a pension plan and a condo in Damansara.

We’ve all seen this invisible checklist, handed to us by well-meaning parents, teachers, and society. Sometimes, we carry it around without ever stopping to ask: whose timeline is this, really?

The problem with timelines like this is not that they exist. It is that they are treated as gospel. A single, narrow path where any deviation is seen as failure. Didn’t make the Dean’s List last semester? You’re slacking. Didn’t graduate “on time”? You’re behind. Still figuring out your career at 35? You’re lost. No partner or kids at 40? Something must be wrong.

But here’s the thing. Life isn’t a railway track with fixed stations and predetermined stops. It’s more like a river.

A river doesn’t flow in a straight line. It curves, bends, trickles, and floods. It weaves through valleys, cuts through rocks, and carves its own way forward. Sometimes it slows down. Sometimes it disappears underground. But no one looks at a river and says it’s off track. We just trust that it’s moving toward something bigger, eventually reaching the ocean.

So why don’t we offer ourselves the same grace?

The pressure to be “on track” often leads to unnecessary stress. We compare ourselves to others constantly, not realising that everyone is playing a different game with different rules. We treat milestones like deadlines, as if achieving something later than expected makes it any less meaningful.

The truth is, people arrive at similar destinations at very different times, and with very different stories. Some find their passion at 19. Others at 49. Some get married young, others never do. Some stumble into their calling after years of trial and error. Others reinvent themselves after what seemed like failure.

Take a moment and think about your own journey. How many times have you taken a detour that, in hindsight, turned out to be exactly what you needed? A delay that brought clarity. A job that didn’t work out, but led to one that changed your life. A heartbreak that forced you to rebuild stronger.

These moments don’t fit neatly into society’s timeline. But they are real. And they matter.

I’ve spoken to students who feel defeated because they need to extend their studies by one more semester. I’ve listened to colleagues worried that they are falling behind because they have yet to fulfil promotion criteria after five years. And I’ve felt it too. That creeping doubt that maybe, just maybe, I missed the boat.

But here’s what I’ve come to realise, not too long ago, I must admit. There is no boat. There is no fixed deadline. There is only your journey, unfolding in its own way, on its own time.

And perhaps what matters most is not how fast we move, but how present we are while moving. Not whether we are ahead or behind, but whether we are aligned with our values, our needs, and our truth.

Because chasing someone else’s timeline often means living someone else’s life.

There is a quiet power in reclaiming your pace. In saying, “I’m not behind. I’m just where I need to be.” That’s not laziness. That’s self-trust. And it’s something we could all use a little more of.

Of course, this doesn’t mean we stop striving or growing. It means we stop punishing ourselves for not arriving “on time.” It means we start measuring success in ways that feel meaningful to us, not just impressive to others.

And if you really want to compare, then compare yourself to who you were yesterday. Compete with your past self, not someone else’s highlight reel.

Let your progress be curved, slow, wild, and wonderfully unpredictable. Let it be like the river, unrushed, untamed, and unapologetically yours.

So the next time you feel like you’re off track, pause and breathe. You’re not lost. You’re just taking a different route, and that is perfectly okay. Define success on your own terms. Mark your own milestones. Choose your own timing, because life isn’t a race.

Even if it is, you are only competing against yourself.

_{Ir Dr Nahrizul Adib Kadri is a professor of biomedical engineering at the Faculty of Engineering, Universiti Malaya. He may be reached at nahrizuladib@um.edu.my This piece was originally published on TwentyTwo13}