Ah, the turn of the year. It’s a bittersweet period filled with anticipation, hope, and for many, an opportunity to start anew. As the clock strikes midnight, the possibilities seem endless. Yet, starting over can be daunting—even for the bravest among us. It’s an invitation to venture into uncharted territory where caution, courage, and a penchant for growth can serve as faithful companions. Here’s a delicate pat on the back and ten gentle reminders to help guide your journey toward fresh beginnings.
Three years in a row, I worked through Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Not just quietly checking emails or jumping on a quick call—I was actively working. Full days. Back-to-back meetings. Wrapping up year-end reports while my phone buzzed with photos of holiday dinners I wasn’t at. I told myself I was being responsible, indispensable, even ambitious. But if I’m honest, I think I was just afraid.
There’s a quiet, often-overlooked window of clarity that opens up in December. Not everyone sees it—mostly because we’re moving too fast. The holidays are swirling, work deadlines are closing in, and the world seems to run on autopilot. But if you pause, just long enough, you might notice something different: a natural, reflective stillness under all the noise.
There’s something undeniably exciting about standing at the crossroads of possibility. Yet, when you hit 35, societal norms often whisper that you should already have everything figured out. But what if your heart is tugging in another direction? Changing careers at 35 isn’t merely doable—it’s a thrilling opportunity to redefine your path. Forget the notion that this path is only for the brave or reckless. This journey is one of introspection, strategy, and transformative growth. Let’s explore how making a career change at 35 can be a thoroughly empowering experience and what helped me ensure I was making the right move.
In a world that’s constantly urging us to “level up,” achieve more, and outdo yesterday’s version of ourselves, it’s easy to feel like you’re on an endless treadmill. The notion often glorifies relentless productivity and success, painting them as the ultimate life goals. Yet, amidst this chorus of self-improvement, it’s perfectly okay—and absolutely crucial—to hit pause and just breathe. You're not in a race, your life is not a competition, and your worth isn’t tied to how high or fast you climb. Let's redefine leveling up to embody a journey that’s balanced, compassionate, and suited to your unique pace.
Each career has a rhythm of its own, harmonious in its early stages, growing richer with time, and sometimes evolving into a symphony of its chapter's end. Recognizing when to leave a job you once loved can be as poignant as any life's milestone. It's a decision filled with echoes of past achievements and the thrilling uncertainty of new beginnings. In facing such transitions, the goal is to cherish what was, while clearing the way for what could be. This guide navigates the emotional landscape of resigning from a beloved job, offering perspectives and practical tips to help you move forward gracefully and intentionally.
Ah, the holidays—a time of twinkling lights, delicious treats, and, for many, a nagging thought in the back of their minds: "Maybe it's time for something new." While it's natural to feel a bit worn out after the holiday rush, those persistent feelings of wanting to quit your job may be more than just routine year-end fatigue. Instead, they might hint at a deeper need for change. Here, we explore the seven signs that suggest your post-holiday unrest could be signaling something significant, and offer insights to guide you through this potentially transformative period.
Eight years ago, I boarded a flight from Oregon to New York with two suitcases, a job offer, and a head full of what-ifs. I’d lived in Oregon my entire life—thick with Pacific Northwest roots, surrounded by people who knew my story without explanation. And then, suddenly, I was moving to the other side of the country.
There’s no perfectly packaged way to lose a job. Even if you knew it was coming, even if the environment was toxic, even if you were secretly craving change, job loss stings. It hits your sense of stability, your identity, your calendar, your confidence, your bank account—and sometimes, your sleep.
I’ve always been pretty good at the big transitions—graduations, cross-country moves, career pivots, relationship endings. The major shifts? I see them coming. I plan. I journal. I even color-code. But where I used to get completely thrown off was the in-between—the days right after the job ends but before the next one begins, the weeks between a big decision and the first real step, or the mornings where I know I’m not the same person but can’t quite explain why.
A few years ago, when I left a role that looked great on paper but left me drained in reality, I didn’t leap straight into my dream job. I took what I thought was a “temporary” position to cover bills while I figured out my next move. It wasn’t glamorous, and I was convinced it was a detour.
Last year, I caught myself telling the same story I’d been repeating for years: “I’m someone who starts projects but doesn’t finish them.” I didn’t even notice how often I said it—over coffee with a friend, in coaching conversations, even as an aside to myself when I missed a deadline. It wasn’t just a passing comment; it had become part of my identity, baked into how I explained myself to others.
