Reinvention, One Year In

A year removed from a major reset, I had a few questions. So I asked them — to myself. What follows is an honest check-in on what’s changed, what hasn’t, and what rebuilding actually looks like once the urgency fades.

1. A year later, what feels most different — not externally, but internally?

Some days, nothing feels different than it did a year ago. I still wake up, get the kids ready for school, put them on the bus, pour myself another cup of coffee and sit down at my desk for the next 6 hours. Other days, it feels like night and day. The biggest difference is that I am in control of my day now. I decide which clients to support. I decide how to shape my calendar. I decide when to take time off. I don’t always remember that — I still fall into old habits and rhythms.

2. At what point did you realize the dramatic chapter of change was actually ending?

When I decided the future was probably going to be more exciting and rewarding than the past – if I allowed myself to move toward it. It wasn’t some eureka moment, but just a slow awareness that I had recovered from the emotional hangover of the transition and was tired of talking about what ‘used to be’. When I felt more ready for what comes next than I was to sit in a state of self-reflection all the time, I knew the dramatic chapter was coming to an end.  

3. What does starting over look like when it’s no longer emotionally intense?

When you’re not running on emotional adrenaline, starting over requires discipline, creativity, and patience. You need to be committed to building new routines, relationships, behaviors, and skills. You’re rebuilding a foundation. It takes time and work and is deeply uncomfortable most of the time, and it’s easy to want to avoid doing all of those things most days. But, I’ve found that if you’re creative about how you cultivate all the ‘newness’ it can make those things more fun. I try to balance out all the fundamental, somewhat tedious work of rebuilding by indulging in creative endeavors— songwriting, podcasting, LEGO’ing, writing, karaoke’ing — whenever the waves of inspiration hit me.

I’m not good at the patience part yet, so ask me again next year.  

4. When did reinvention start to feel less like an event and more like a responsibility?

When I shifted the framing from ‘I need to reinvent myself because this thing happened to me’ to ‘I am entitled to reinvent myself as many times as I want in my life, without needing a reason or permission’. It took the pressure off getting it “right” – because at the beginning, I was sort of anxious about immediately pivoting perfectly into the next wonderful thing. Now, I see that is total nonsense. Re-invention is just a glossy packaged term for testing, learning, and feeling your way forward in the dark.

5. How has your definition of confidence changed over the past year?

I think of the expression… “get back in the saddle”. My circumstances were unique. I didn’t fall off the horse — I jumped from one at full gallop, but the sentiment still resonates. A year ago, I was self-loathing, second-guessing, grieving, and anxious – in every facet of my life – so my confidence was shot. I really had to rebuild it from scratch. I took the time to let myself heal a little, paid attention to my body and mental health, and found my way back to a steady stance. Then, at some point, I just got back in the saddle. And, as the adage implies will happen, I got back on the horse and just started trotting forward – working again, networking, creating, allowing myself to be creative. Eventually, I picked up speed, got more comfortable with my new surroundings, and I started to feel like myself again.

What I now understand is this: confidence is a full body-mind-soul connection that is entirely intrinsic. You cannot manufacture it. And others cannot make you feel it. I know they tell you that from a very young age, but it took me four decades to realize it was true. Better late than never.

7. Who are you now that the urgency to “figure everything out” has faded?

I don’t know yet. I’m still figuring her out. All I know is that I’m no longer someone who thinks she has to have everything figured out. No one does. It’s not even possible.

I also know that every version of myself from the past tried her best, and I owe it to them – to those echoes of past versions of me – to keep doing the digging and self-discovering and try to have some fun along the way.

8. What have you learned about stability that you didn’t understand before?

Stability means something different to everyone. To me, stability means consistency and transparency. I don’t need guarantees and certainties – because I also know there are very, very few of those in life. If I look at the rhythm of my life, I expect to see ups and downs and variances – that’s usually where the stories come from. But, I now know that in the end – it all evens out.

9. If reinvention has a second phase, what might a third phase look like?

Reclamation. There’s a lot I want to reclaim that I lost or let go dormant in my life – my voice and important friendships to name a few – and that work will take deep, focused work. I’m looking forward to that phase, but one step at a time.