Rewriting My Story: Midlife Crisis or Career Glow-Up?

When I left my job after more than a decade, I didn’t have a shiny new opportunity lined up. I didn’t have a prospect on the horizon. There was literally no plan, it happened so fast. What I did have was a lot of feelings, a very supportive family, and the slightly unsettling realization that I was voluntarily stepping away from something stable and familiar into…well, something entirely unknown. Was it bold? Maybe. Brave? Possibly. Just a midlife crisis? That’s still up for debate.

The Plot Twist I Didn't Know I Was Writing

The truth is, I didn’t wake up one day and suddenly decide to start over. This decision built slowly—quietly—like a book plot twist you didn’t see coming but also kind of did. The leadership changes, company priority shifts, lack of support, the constant juggling act with no one to pass the ball to… it all added up. Suddenly the whisper of “maybe it’s time” started getting louder.

And then one day, I'd had enough.

Cue the tears. Cue the relief. Cue the guilt and fear. Despite that, I started to feel something else—excitement. Possibility. A weird mix of anxiety and freedom that somehow felt like hope. I didn’t know exactly what was next (I still don't as I write this), but I knew I wanted it to feel different. I wanted it to feel right.

Lessons Learned

Here’s what I’ve learned in the messy, beautiful, occasionally panic-inducing process of starting over:

1. Just because you were good at something doesn’t mean you have to keep doing it. I could manage a one-person marketing department in my sleep. That doesn’t mean I should. Being capable isn’t a life sentence.

2. “No” is a complete sentence. And using it occasionally is not only allowed—it’s healthy. No, I can’t do it all. No, I won’t keep answering emails after 8 p.m. Yes, I will be watching the Grey's Anatomy series for the 5th time while picking up a new cross-stitch hobby. Zero regrets.

3. Reinvention doesn’t have to be radical—it just has to be real. I didn’t dye my hair purple, buy a motorcycle, or move across the country (yet). I simply decided to stop doing what no longer served me and started exploring what does. Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is give yourself permission to want more.

4. You bring everything with you. Leaving a job doesn’t mean leaving behind your experience, your strengths, or your stories. I still love content, storytelling, strategy, and connecting with people—I’m just finding new ways to use those gifts without losing myself in the process.

So… Midlife Crisis? Or Something Better?

Maybe this is a midlife crisis. If it is, it’s the kind where you clean out your inbox instead of buying a sports car. Where you trade burnout for balance. Where you stop living on autopilot and start asking, “What do I actually want?” I don’t know exactly where this new chapter will lead, but I do know I’m writing it on my own terms. It’s mine. And for the first time in a long time, that feels really good.

Starting over is hard. It’s messy. It’s emotional. And it’s also incredibly empowering. If you’re standing at a similar crossroads, I hope you’ll remember this: You’re allowed to change your mind. You’re allowed to chase something new. And no, you don’t need a crisis to do it. Sometimes, you just need the courage to listen to yourself.