Finding yourself in the in-between
In my former career, I was a VP at an international investment firm. I originally signed on to the role because it was an opportunity to help a newly public company revamp its brand and go to the next level. It felt entrepreneurial and exciting. I was also motivated by the challenges that came with often being the only female in the boardroom. I wanted to prove my value and for years and on many different projects, I did. There was a point, however, when I got tired of being asked to arrange the catering for the boardroom. I was tired of the men in the room telling me that my job was to “make things pretty” because they didn’t understand the skills behind public relations, branding or event management. I was tired of being dismissed, talked over or underestimated because I was a woman.
After I left, I felt relieved to not be in a toxic environment anymore. I considered taking a job in the same industry with some former colleagues whom I worked well with, but my inner voice told me that if I did that, I would just be doing it for the high paycheck. What I really wanted was a complete lifestyle change, to work with people who held similar values and to focus on something meaningful.
Still, the conditioning ran deep. I felt pressure to leap straight into the next thing. I was still conditioned to believe that constantly working, not having big gaps on my resume and showing I was productive was necessary to proving my value. I even continued to save examples of my work from my previous roles, even though I was about to completely switch gears. I was used to telling people about the various projects I was working on and all the places I was traveling, feeling that being busy meant having a good life.
Many of us are taught to live this way— filling our schedules, working long hours, showing we have grit and persistence, proving our stamina and strength. We live in a world that celebrates the start of things, such as new jobs, new launches and new goals, but rarely honors endings. We aren’t taught how to stand in the stillness that follows something falling apart, but when a chapter closes, whether you chose to leave, were forced to leave, or were let go without warning, that stillness is sacred.
The in-between that follows isn’t failure. It’s a space of recalibration. It’s a time when your nervous system, your energy and your sense of identity begin to untangle from old patterns of overdoing and overgiving. It’s where you start to hear your own voice again.
For some people, this space is chosen while for others, it’s not. Some are in the in-between and can’t afford financially to linger there. If that’s you, know that you can still hold space for your inner realignment even while taking steps to stabilize your outer world. The pause doesn’t have to mean doing nothing. It means doing what’s necessary while listening for what’s true.
The in-between can be uncomfortable, especially when uncertainty meets financial pressure, but it’s also where transformation begins. When the noise of external expectations fades, even if just for a moment, you can hear what’s real inside you. You might realize that you don’t want to climb the same ladder again, that you’re being called to build something of your own, work in a different way or that your definition of success is changing.. Whatever form your next chapter takes, it will come from clarity, not exhaustion or programming.
For some, quitting is about burnout— the exhaustion that comes from trying to meet impossible expectations for too long. For others, it’s a more subtle awareness that your work was out of sync with your values or your purpose. Either way, something deep within you recognized that staying would have cost more than leaving. That recognition is wisdom. It’s the same inner compass that will guide you toward what’s next, once you give it the space to speak. Right now, your job isn’t to figure it all out. Your job is to recover your connection to yourself.
You didn’t leave because you failed. You left, or life moved you, because your soul told you, This isn’t it. Listening to that message, especially when it’s inconvenient, is one of the most courageous things a person can do.
So rest where you can. Reflect when you’re able. Reorient. Let yourself be in the in-between for as long as it takes. It takes the time it takes.



This is really so wise. You're right, our culture always celebrates the beginnings but doesn't take time noticing the times in between, where perhaps, the most growth happens.