It Took Me 42 Years to Arrive –And That’s Okay

That one question that lingers…

You know the one.
The question that sounds so simple, it feels unfair.

“What do you want to do with your life?”

I’ve heard it tossed out like small talk. As if the answer should just roll off the tongue: clean, confident, prepackaged. But let’s be honest: that question? It’s loaded. It carries expectation, pressure, and this weird assumption that an 18-year-old should already have their entire future mapped out.

When my son graduated high school, right on the heels of the pandemic, the question followed him like a shadow. The world was unraveling, rebuilding, and questioning itself all at once. So how could he, still so new to himself, be expected to have clarity?

I didn’t find my answer until I was 40. 

The Messy, Beautiful Seasons

My life unfolded in chapters. Not a straight line. More like a collage.

I wore many hats – some that fit for a while, others that never really did. I spent years in a corporate job that paid the bills but starved my soul. Still, it gave me space. Space to be there for the little moments that motherhood asked of me.

Then the tide shifted.

I went back to school, got my master’s in social work, and slowly stepped into a new role: therapist. Suddenly, I was building something of my own. A business. A practice. A place to show up fully.

And I grew – professionally, personally, spiritually. I had incredible mentors who nudged me forward, and clients who taught me as much as I taught them. I felt grounded. Successful. But… also restless.

Like there was still another layer I hadn’t peeled back yet.

 The Whisper That Wouldn’t Quit

Even in the middle of it all – the work, the parenting, the doing – there was always this quiet nudge. A whisper that showed up in the in-between moments. You know the ones: when the house is finally quiet, or the sky looks too big and beautiful to ignore.

That’s when I’d feel it.

This sense that my real work had less to do with titles or tasks, and more to do with truth. With soul. With conversations that made the world pause and hearts open.

It stayed with me. That whisper. Until I couldn’t pretend not to hear it anymore. 

A Ceremony I Didn’t See Coming

Two years ago, I had a moment in meditation that wrecked me in the best way.

In my mind’s eye, I was in a quiet, sacred space, performing a ceremony. I saw myself gently releasing my son, cutting invisible cords, not out of detachment, but out of love. Out of trust. It was time for him to step fully into his own life.

It was his rite of passage… and mine.

Something in me shifted. Motherhood, while still sacred, evolved. There was room now – for me. For my next becoming. And it felt like freedom. 

Where Coaching Found Me

Coaching wasn’t on my radar at first. It started as a curiosity, a word that hummed with potential. But when I leaned in, I saw something deeper.

Not the performative kind. Not the “I have the answers, let me fix you” kind.
But the sacred kind.
The kind that listens more than it speaks. That holds space instead of holding power.

I brought everything with me: my years in therapy, my finely tuned intuition, my mother-heart, my deep respect for boundaries and trust. Coaching became the next evolution of how I serve.

And for the first time, it felt like I wasn’t just good at what I did – I was doing what I was made for.

Finding Purpose in the Middle of the Story

People think purpose hits like a lightning bolt. Mine was more like a slow dawn.

Coaching became the thread that tied it all together. Every career shift, every heartbreak, every stretch of motherhood, every late-night journal entry – they all brought me here.

To this work.

To this deep, sacred listening.
To this invitation I now offer others: Come home to yourself. 

Your Path Doesn’t Need to Make Sense Yet

Here’s what I’ve learned: purpose isn’t a straight shot. It wanders. It confuses. It hides sometimes. But it never leaves you.

And if you’ve been feeling lost? You’re not broken. You’re in the middle of the story.

So start where you are. Look back at the life you’ve lived so far, and gather the clues:

• What seasons have you survived or savored?

• What roles shaped you?

• Which relationships cracked you open – or stitched you back together?

• What lessons keep showing up on repeat?

Underline the moments that made you feel most alive.

And then ask yourself: What’s the smallest “yes” I can say to myself right now?

It doesn’t have to be loud. Or perfect. Or clear.

Just real.

Just yours.

One Step Is Enough

The next chapter doesn’t require a master plan.
Just a single step in the direction of what feels true.

That’s where the magic starts.
That’s how you begin.

Whenever you’re ready – I’m here. Holding the lantern.
Not to lead you. But to walk with you while you find your own light.

Your purpose is already within you, waiting to be remembered, at the right time.