A year ago (ish), I wrote about fear (capital-F Fear!), the courage to take a leap, make a change, and say “yes” to what’s been buzzing in the back of your mind for a long time.
I wrote about what making that change is like: squaring off with yourself (it’s who you’ll have to answer to in the end). Also, understanding that change can come with gain, as well as loss.
Today I wanted to share what happened next. Not because I’m in some tidy “after” where everything is running on peaches, but because change takes time, building is hard, and this is a path that comes with both risk and capital-U Uncertainty.
What’s happened
Two + years ago, I landed in the south of France for a sabbatical, knowing a career change lay ahead. I fell in love with it here (it’s an easy place to love) and decided to stay (or try to, anyway).
After 15 years in healthcare business advisory spanning market research, management consulting, and startups in real-world data, I started to build my second act, focused entirely on people. To guide individuals through life transitions. And to help teams at inflection points architect the ways of working their next stage demands.
This led me to launch Project Pivot, my coaching and consulting practice, and to go back to school to become a psychologist.
My transformation is far from concluded. Building a business from scratch takes time. Learning a language takes time. Getting a degree in that new language… well, you get the idea.
Last year was one of the most intense in my life. I went back to school after 15 years, in French, while building the business (spoiler alert: I didn’t have much time for the business). I was simultaneously managing financial pressure as I balanced what it took to do well in school with what it would take to renew my visa.
It was an exhilarating time because it felt like I was chasing all the things I wanted, a pleasure in its own right. At the same time, I ended up pushing way past the point of sustainable - and my body reminded me of that.
There were two milestones I wanted to hit, but didn’t. I wanted to get into the Clinical Psychology Masters, which did not happen. And to have my residency renewal sorted; I’m still waiting for that decision, months later.
I finished the Masters selection 1st on the waiting list (the program takes 17 people out of over 1,300 applicants). In the end, no spot opened up. This was an especially odd moment: I felt justifiably proud of myself. But also, I didn’t get in.
The surprising part?
What really surprised me in the aftermath is that I was ok. I am okay.
For the Masters, the week I waited for results to come in was rough AF. But… not every day was bad. And not every moment of a challenging day was equally sucky.
I manage not to think of my visa. I have my community and my goals, and the rest is out of my control for now.
I don’t think I would have stayed this buoyant a few years ago. Experience has taught me to cherish the only thing we ever have: the now, the day-to-day. The big goals exist as sparsely protruding pinnacles, only occasionally punctuating the flow of regular life. If regular life isn’t enjoyable, that’s when you have a problem.
What I learned (Or, hopefully helpful tidbits)
Gearing up for the long haul. It’s a timeless platitude that the Eternal City wasn’t built in a day. My experience going through a three-(four?)-pronged transition has taught me PATIENCE in CAPS LOCK, which is just as well, because it’s a quality I lacked before. Even as I still don’t know if it’ll “all work out,” it’s also become evident to me that nothing worth doing was ever going to be easy.
Do your part, then let it go. Before the results for the Masters came in, the idea of not getting in seemed unthinkable. That’s the blinding effect of burning desire, and I’m glad to feel the ambition and drive that I do. But somewhere in there, a little voice piped up: “Well, what are you going to do if you don’t get in?” And, of course, the answer was: I’d accept the outcome, regroup, try again.
Rest, and ritual. Proper, deep rest is something I now build into every part of my life. Depending on what phase my various projects are in, this can mean hours or it can mean weeks. And because solopreneurs and other independents don’t often benefit from a shared rhythm with others, I mark small things in little ways: a candle lit and a glass raised for a tiny milestone (an honest blog post?). An end-of-the-week cleaning ritual. A decadent dessert.
Re-center on your why. My “why” is that I’ve always wanted to try this. To try living in Europe (even though it comes with its own challenges). To build something of my own. To deepen into the study of the mind so that I could help others understand themselves, heal, and grow.
Beyond that, it’s always helpful to map out your resources when you’re navigating a big change.
Your People: Who can be a support? And who do you support? What obligations do you carry and how will your new direction change your attention and your bandwidth?
Your Moolah: If your change requires time off, ramp-up time or an investment in education, what do your finances look like, and what can they bear? What other avenues do you have for financing or for reducing spend? This one requires a very honest look, and being open to trade-offs.
Your Nervous System: What are you doing to take care of yourself? You are your most important instrument, which means your sleep, movement, nutrition and mental health should always be at the forefront. For you. For your family, friends, community and all the work you want to bring into the world.
The upside to a process like this is building a truly self-authored life. The downside is uncertainty, risk, and potential loss – like changing relationships with those who haven’t come with you on the journey. It’s not for everyone. And it wouldn’t appeal to everyone, either!
Big changes look different depending on when you peek in on them. Sometimes, it’s one foot in front of the other, for many miles. It’s a hard thing, but a rewarding one. And I’d do it all over again, jusqu’ici.