Seventeen Years Later, The Road Is Open

A funny thing happened this morning.

One of those Facebook memories popped up from exactly 17 years ago, and there I was, looking at a version of myself I almost don't recognize anymore.

I had just moved out of my marital home. My marriage was ending. I was starting the process of getting divorced, trying to figure out what the hell my life was going to look like, and apparently my body had decided it couldn't hold one more ounce of stress because I broke out in hives.

Not little stress hives, either, like Hives! Everywhere!
They lasted eight freaking weeks.

I went to a few doctors, and nobody could figure out what was wrong with me. I still have a scar on my knee from where one dermatologist literally took a small scissor and cut off a piece of my skin for a biopsy- guy was a butcher, but anyways. Looking back now, of course I know exactly was wrong with me. My entire life had blown apart and I had absolutely no idea what was going to happen next.

I was scared. I had two kids. I had bills. I had a career. I was leaving the life I had built and stepping into something I couldn't see yet.

And I don't think I realized until that memory came up this morning just how different that woman is from the woman sitting here today.

Because here I am, 17 years later, at another ending.
I left the Bank.
And, I'm okay.Actually, I'm
more than okay!

Now, I’m not saying that from some bullshit positive-thinking place where I’m supposed to pretend that losing my job is wonderful because "everything happens for a reason." Even though I am an absolute believer of that, tested and confirmed! But I don't particularly subscribe to bypassing the uncomfortable parts of life so I can hurry up and find the inspirational quote for Instagram.

There are some things about the experience I'm still unpacking…
For example, I was hired under one belief about what I was coming there to do, and ultimately, what unfolded was something different. There were moments when I absolutely felt a bit of a bait and switch.

But I learned a lot amount about myself, my work ethic, my adaptability, my resilience, and my ability to manage with insurmountable ambiguity. And bottom line- I am really really good at my fucking job!

But, I also knew..
That's the cool part.

Somewhere along the way, I knew.

My intuition had been talking to me for quite some time, and thankfully, at 49, I've finally learned to listen to the damn thing.

There were things happening inside the organization that I could see coming before they happened. At one point, I told my boss what I believed was going to unfold next, and when it did, he actually texted me asking how the hell I knew.

I could just see where everything was going.

And eventually I could see where my own role was going too..It had a shelf life.

I had been brought there to do something very specific. There was a massive transformation happening, and I became part of getting it across the finish line. I built things. I fixed things. I solved problems. I navigated a tremendous amount of complexity. I did work I'm incredibly proud of!

And then that chapter ended.

There is probably a whole separate conversation to be had someday about going back into corporate after years of entrepreneurship because that experience changed me too.

I really enjoyed being back.

I enjoyed leading teams again. I enjoyed the complexity. I enjoyed walking into something messy and figuring out how the pieces needed to move. I enjoyed being surrounded by people and ideas and problems that needed solving.

And I got to bring a completely different version of myself into corporate than the woman who had left it years before.

Entrepreneurship had changed the way I thought.

It changed the way I understood customers. Money. Leadership. Risk. Creativity. People. Business.

And corporate changed me again. I'm still unpacking those lessons.

Which is probably why I'm not in a rush to slap some pretty little bow around what comes next.

Because I don't know yet… And that's the truth.

And maybe that's what feels so different this time.

Seventeen years ago, not knowing terrified me!

Today, it doesn't.

I've been reading recently about the astrological cycles happening right now and this idea of a karmic loop closing after 17 years. You can believe in astrology or think it's complete bullshit. I'm not here to convince anybody about that. Plus there is the lunar eclipse in Pieces that happened on August 28/29 which closes a two year cycle, and I’d been at the bank for almost exactly 2 years… coincidence? Maybe.

But I believe (because I’ve witnessed first-hand) that there are moments in our lives when the timing of things is just too serendipitously interesting to ignore.

And seeing that memory this morning about my rash made me stop.

Seventeen years.

Exactly.

That woman covered in hives, watching her would crumble, had no fucking clue what she had just set into motion.

She didn't know about the businesses she would build.
She didn't know about the book she would write.
She didn't know about the women she would help.
She didn't know about the money she would make and lose and make again.
She didn't know about the heartbreaks coming.
She didn't know about the mistakes.

God knows she didn't know about all the fuck-ups!

She didn't know who would leave, who would stay, who she would lose, what she would survive, what she would build, or how many times she would have to reinvent herself.

She was just trying to get through the day without scratching her skin off.

And now I can look backward and see something I couldn't possibly have seen while I was living it.

All of it mattered.

Not because every shitty thing that happens to us secretly has some beautiful divine purpose… Sometimes shitty things are just shitty things.

But its because of what we do next.

One decision creates another, One mistake teaches you something that you carry into the next room. One heartbreak changes what you're willing to tolerate. One failure makes you smarter the next time you try. One tiny act of courage becomes another one and another one, until one day you look around and realize you've built an entirely different life.

And I couldn't have gotten here without her.

Without that scared woman who packed up her life 17 years ago and walked out the door without knowing what was waiting on the other side of it.

And maybe that's why this particular ending doesn't feel devastating.

Because I've done this before…

Not this exact thing, But I've stood in this life with no map.

I've watched things end without knowing that was a beginning.

I've had to trust myself before I had any evidence that trusting myself was a good idea.

The difference is that now I have 17 years of evidence.

I know I can build.
I know I can pivot.
I know I can make money.
I know I can lose money and figure it out again (although please! Not that lesson again! Lol)
I know I can lead.
I know I can write.
I know I can create things out of absolutely fucking nothing.
I know how to walk into a mess and start figuring out what needs to happen next.
And most importantly, I know myself!

So when people ask me what I'm doing next, my answer right now is: "I don't know."

And? I'm surprisingly peaceful about that!

There are things I know aren't changing…

I'm still obsessed with helping women understand money differently.
I'm still going to write.( hello reader, wink wink!)
I'm still going to talk about the things people don't particularly like talking about.
I'm still an entrepreneur.
I'm still a banker.
I'm still a problem-solver.
I'm still fascinated by what happens when psychology, money, leadership, intuition, business and women's lives all smash and collide.
And! I'm still going to find ways to bring those pieces together!

What I don't know yet is what container they're going to live in…

Maybe I go back into corporate.

Maybe another transformation opportunity finds me and I get to take everything I've learned from this one and do it again, differently.

Maybe entrepreneurship takes up more space.

Maybe Karmic Currency evolves.

Maybe the podcast becomes something I haven't imagined yet.

Maybe it's some combination of all of it.

But for once, I don't feel compelled to decide that immediately.

That may actually be one of the greatest differences between my 32 and 49.

At 32, uncertainty felt like an emergency.

At 49, it feels like space!

And I have quite a few things I want to do with that space.

I want to finish my book! That’s my priority!

I've been writing this damn thing in pieces for what feels like forever, lol and now I finally have something I haven't had enough of: time.

Time to sit with the stories.
Time to write.
Time to look at some of the things I've lived through and understand them differently now that I'm standing on the other side.

And maybe this experience belongs in the book too…

Because the book has never really been about money.

Well, not entirely.

It's about all the ways we fuck up our relationship with money because we're human.

We get scared.
We stay too long.
We leave too soon.
We trust the wrong people.
We don't trust ourselves.
We spend when we're hurting.
We hoard when we're afraid.
We confuse security with predictability.

And how we make decisions from versions of ourselves we're already beginning to outgrow.

And then sometimes life comes along and removes that certainty for us.

Which is pretty much where I am now.
Standing at the edge of whatever comes next.

The roads are open.

That's the image that keeps coming to me.

Not a crossroads where I have to frantically pick the correct direction before something terrible happens.

Just beautifully open roads.

I can go somewhere.
I can stop for a while.
I can change direction.
I can explore something cool and then decide it isn't for me.

There is tremendous freedom in realizing that I don't have to know yet.

I don't think the woman from 17 years ago could have understood that.

She needed answers. All the answers.

Although she always knew (deep down) that she was going to be okay.

I wish I could have sat beside her now and tell her what happens.

Although she'd probably never believe me.

I'd tell her there are going to be some brutal years.
I'd tell her she's going to make mistakes she will cringe about later!
I'd tell her some of the things that she thinks will destroy her.. they won't.. but they will shape her.
I'd probably warn her about a few people while I was there, because POR FAVOR- wtf was that?!

But then I'd tell her to keep going, like I know she would.

Because 17 years from now, she's going to be sitting inside the life she had been praying for all while she was covered in hives popping Benadryl like candy and trying to figure out how everything had gone so horribly wrong.

And then one morning, she sees those chapters are coming to an end...
Except this time, she isn't going to panic.

She's going to look at the open road in front of her and realize she doesn't need to know where it leads yet.

But she trusts herself enough to find out.