In a culture obsessed with milestones, being a “late bloomer” often carries a faint whiff of failure. We admire prodigies, revere early achievers, and tell stories of those who “made it” before they could legally rent a car. The timelines are tight, the pressure palpable. By the time you hit your thirties, if you haven’t reached a certain level of success, the implication is that you’ve somehow missed your moment. This belief isn’t just misleading; it’s deeply harmful to the many who are quietly blossoming on their own timelines. LaShonda Herndon doesn’t view life through the lens of deadlines and checklists. Instead, she champions the idea that personal growth is not a race, but a personal journey—one that unfolds uniquely for each individual. Her approach serves as a powerful reminder that success doesn’t have an expiration date.
The Origins of the Timeline Myth
Our societal obsession with early achievement stems partly from education systems that group learners by age, not by ability or interest. From the first day of kindergarten to the final exam in high school, students move along a conveyor belt that assumes everyone learns at the same pace and should reach milestones at the same time. This structure leaves little room for divergence, let alone delayed development. Those who fail to conform to this rhythm often internalize a damaging belief: they are behind.
Media only reinforces this narrative. Headlines trumpet the teen CEO, the 20-something millionaire, the young scientist revolutionizing their field. Meanwhile, the stories of those who spent years wandering, struggling, or simply growing at a slower pace go untold. When we do hear about older success stories, they’re framed as extraordinary outliers rather than normal variations of the human journey.
The Science of Variable Development
Biologically and neurologically, humans do not develop in a uniform way. Research in neuroscience shows that the brain continues to develop well into the third decade of life, and even beyond. Executive function, emotional regulation, and abstract reasoning all mature at different rates for different people. Yet our social structures rarely accommodate this diversity.
Moreover, psychological theories of motivation and self-determination emphasize the importance of timing in internal readiness. You might not be ready to pursue a goal or learn a skill at 18, 22, or even 30, not because you are lazy or unmotivated, but because your internal clock hasn’t yet struck the right moment. When it finally does, what happens can be astonishing. People who once seemed aimless become laser-focused; talents that lay dormant suddenly awaken with clarity and energy.
The Role of Experience in Delayed Flourishing
What we call “late blooming” is often just a function of accumulated experience finally crystallizing into insight or capability. Life experience has a way of making learning more meaningful. A person returning to school at 40 often approaches education with a hunger and depth of understanding that an 18-year-old cannot match. In the same way, someone who spent years exploring different jobs might bring a unique blend of skills and perspectives to a new career that others lack.
This isn’t to say that earlier learning lacks value, but rather that later learning can carry an unmatched richness. When you choose to learn or grow not because you’re told to, but because you’re ready to, the result can be transformative. The depth of investment, the sense of agency, and the alignment with personal values make the learning curve steeper but also more impactful.
Social Stigma and Self-Sabotage
Still, the stigma around late achievement can lead to self-sabotage. People who feel they are “behind” may not try at all. The internalized belief that “it’s too late” can become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Rather than embarking on the journey when they finally feel ready, many give up before they begin, convinced they’ve missed their shot.
This is especially damaging because personal development is not linear. There are seasons of rapid growth and seasons of apparent stillness, both of which are essential. Comparing your trajectory to others’ highlights only creates false benchmarks. If anything, the richness of a life well-lived often comes from its detours, not its direct paths.
Late Blooming in a Changing World
Ironically, we live in a world where the pace of change should encourage flexible timelines. People are changing careers multiple times in their lives. Technologies and industries rise and fall in a decade. Lifespans are extending, and the idea of retiring at 65 is shifting for many. In this context, the pressure to hit life’s key milestones early seems not just outdated, but absurd.
If you’re going to work into your seventies, what’s the rush to have your career figured out by 25? If you’re going to live until 90, why shouldn’t you go back to school at 50 or start a new business at 60? Late blooming is, in many ways, becoming the new norm—if only we could let go of outdated ideals.
Rethinking Educational Systems and Workplaces
To truly dismantle the myth of the late bloomer, we need to rethink how we structure education and career development. This means creating pathways that accommodate adult learners, valuing experience over age, and building workplaces that support continuous growth rather than early peak performance.
It also means creating cultural narratives that honor progress at every stage. Highlighting stories of those who found their voice, mission, or talent later in life can shift public perception. It tells people that blooming late isn’t failing—it’s simply blooming when the conditions are finally right.
Final Thoughts: Time Is Not a Talent Metric
Ultimately, time is a misleading metric for talent, growth, or success. The idea that someone is a “late bloomer” presupposes that there was a correct time to bloom at all. But nature doesn’t work that way. Some flowers open at dawn, others at dusk. Both add beauty to the world.
What matters is not when you start, but that you start. Not how long it takes, but how deeply you commit. We are all on different timelines, and none are inherently superior. The real myth isn’t the late bloomer. It’s the idea that you were ever late in the first place.