The Lessons Aren’t New. We Are.

Yesterday I wrote a post about My Pivot Year, in which I posed the question:

When you’ve spent over a decade building something, and you’ve attached so much of your identity to it, what do you do when it stops feeling like the thing that fulfills you?

As I was turning that article into a Reel for Instagram I used the clip below, and that’s when I had a lightbulb moment 💡

The question I just asked is one that I’ve already answered time & time again.

You see, this photo was taken in front of the building I used to work in back in 2014. If you asked me back then, it was the dream job, “the job a million girls would kill for,” as The Devil Wears Prada would say.

Since I was 12 years old, I lined my walls with fashion magazine pages, in awe of both the creativity spread through those pages, and the women who brought that creativity to life.

From that young age, I decided this was my life’s goal — to work in fashion, even more specifically for one of those magazines.

At 15, I was hired onto my local mall’s Teen Board & planned marketing campaigns & fashion shows.

At 16, I moved to NYC for the summer to take college fashion classes, as well as work on a fashion show & sponsorship campaigns.

At 17, I took my first internship, while still in high school, helping a local fashion boutique source & buy from designers in New York.

At 18, I began interning at every company I could to gain the experience I would need to achieve that dream role — from fashion show production to PR showrooms, writing for online magazines, and running around with stylists — I covered every base with any free time that I had.

And then at 21, I finally landed the dream role at one of the largest fashion magazine publishers in the world. I had dedicated my entire teen years to climbing the ladder. Everyone knew me as the fashion girl, and that it was what I was going to dedicate my life to.

And in was in that building, sitting among those large glass windows, that I realized this doesn’t feel right. After all of that work, building up an incredible resume and making this career so much of my identity, something felt wrong.

And that was the first time I ever asked myself - when you’ve spent over a decade building something, and you’ve attached so much of your identity to it, what do you do when it stops feeling like the thing that fulfills you?

The first time I asked myself this question, it truly stopped me in my tracks. What do you mean I just spent all of this time and energy working towards achieving this goal, and it’s not what I thought it would be? If this isn’t it, than what is? Where do I go from here?

Add to this that I was newly graduating from college and thought that I had an entire plan for my life that was easily erased in that moment.

See the problem there wasn’t the work — I still loved fashion, I was still in awe of the creativity behind what the industry was building.

But sitting at that desk, I was just a new body filling a seat, with no name — truly a cog in the machine. I didn’t feel like I was helping or serving anyone.

And so my mission became: how can I work in fashion — in this industry I love — keep the creativity, but use it to help & serve others? And that’s where Brands by RISE was born, helping mission-driven founders in the fashion and beauty space.

Asking The Same Question, For the Second Time

In my personal life, I had to revisit this question again when the girl who grew up solely dreaming of living in a New York City high-rise found herself smack dab in the middle of a Hallmark movie after her family moved to the South.

So much of my identity had been formed around being the New York City, go-go-go girl who thrived on hustle culture & three cups of caffeine a day.

At first, being exposed to a slower lifestyle felt like shell shock, but slowly I started to feel gratitude for the country back roads, the quiet ocean shores at night, and the fact that every new person I met didn’t even ask what I do for work.

I had to learn to find fulfillment and identity outside of my career, which led me to step into new identities that I never would’ve given into had I never asked that one important question - wife, mom, friend, & founder.

Funny enough, here I am 11 years later, asking myself the same question - when you’ve spent over a decade building something and you’ve attached so much of your identity to it, what do you do when it stops feeling like the thing that fulfills you?

And to my surprise, what I’m learning is that the answer isn’t far off from the first time.

It’s not the work that I don’t love — I’ve just lost sight of my ‘why.’

11 years ago, that ‘why’ was being able to serve & help people within the industry that I loved so much. And that still rings true today, but it goes a layer deeper.

When you’re in your 30’s and trying to build a big, beautiful life while trying to balance a fulfilling career, the stakes are higher.

There are children involved; there are financial decisions to consider; each decision has a long-lasting impact that we may have thrown to the wind in our 20s.

And the way that women choose to build something meaningful in the midst of having big, full lives — in hopes that that thing will impact others, leave a legacy for their family, set a good example for their children, or fulfill a call they’ve been stuffing down for years — leaves me in awe every single day, and THAT is my why.

In business, we call it iteration. In life, we call it becoming.

The more I think about it, the more I realize this isn’t really a story about changing careers — It’s about how life has a funny way of bringing us back to the same questions, just dressed up in different circumstances.

The details change. The job changes. The city changes. The relationships change. The business changes.

But underneath it all, we’re often being invited to answer the same questions over and over again.

Who am I without this title? What am I really here to build? What kind of life do I actually want? Where does my fulfillment come from?

The first time I asked those questions, they led me to leave a dream job and build a business.

The second time, they taught me that my identity couldn’t be found in my career alone.

Now they’re leading me somewhere new again.

Maybe that’s what growth actually is.

Not constantly learning brand-new lessons, but returning to the same ones with more wisdom than we had the last time.

In business, we call it iteration.

In life, we call it becoming.

And maybe the goal isn’t to stop asking the hard questions.

Maybe it’s to trust that every time they come back around, so do we — just a little wiser, a little clearer, and a little more ourselves than before.

If you’d like to follow along this next chapter, feel free to subscribe to my completely free substack below, follow along on Instagram, or join our e-mail newsletter (& get a Free 5-Day Founder Reset).