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How to Know When You’ve Outgrown the Version of You That Got You Here

For nearly 20 years, if you asked me who I was professionally, the answer came easily:

I was a high school counselor.


Not I worked as a high school counselor.


I was one.


There’s a difference.


When you’ve spent nearly two decades building a career, becoming good at it, earning the credentials, collecting the stories, helping thousands of students and families, and becoming known for that work, your profession can quietly move from something you do to part of who you believe you are.


So what happens when the person you’ve become begins to outgrow the identity that got you there?


Sometimes, you keep trying to shove the square peg through the round hole.


I know because I did.


When the Right Thing Stops Feeling Right


When I first moved to Washington state, I tried on a different professional hat:

LMHCA.


On paper, it made sense. I had the education. I had the counseling background. It seemed like a logical next step.


Except something about it didn't feel right.


So I did what many of us do when the new thing feels uncomfortable.


I went back to what I knew.


High school counseling.


My comfy professional sweater. Familiar. Proven. Safe.


Except something was still off.


There had been a little voice whispering to me since around 2018:


There is more for you to do.


I heard it.


And then I got very good at ignoring it.


Because here's the part we don't talk about enough when we tell people to "follow their dreams" or "reinvent themselves":


Not knowing who you're becoming can be terrifying.


At the time, that uncertainty felt scarier than staying inside an identity I already knew no longer fit quite right.


So I kept pushing.


When Life Gives You Another Opportunity to Listen


When we eventually moved back to Arizona, part of me was sad that I wouldn't be returning to the school district where I'd grown up professionally, the place that had taken a chance on a newbie counselor back in 2006.


But another part of me was excited.


New district. New school. New beginning.


The interview went beautifully. In fact, they called me back within a couple of hours and offered me the job on my voicemail.


Well, okay then.


Maybe this was where I was supposed to be.


And in many ways, there was beauty there. I met incredible humans, colleagues and students I will always be grateful crossed my path.


But it also became one of the most challenging chapters of my professional life.


And eventually, I had to confront something I'd been avoiding for years:


Maybe the discomfort wasn't telling me to find a better version of the same thing.


Maybe it was telling me that I was ready for something different.


That little voice I'd been hearing since 2018 hadn't gone anywhere.


There is more for you to do.


This time, I listened.


I Didn't Have a Five-Year Plan


I wish I could tell you I left with an immaculate business plan, color-coded spreadsheets, a fully formed brand, and my next five years mapped out.


Nope.


I had something else.


I knew myself.


And I trusted myself enough to believe that I would land on my feet.


I didn't know exactly what the next opportunity would look like. I didn't have every step figured out.


But for perhaps the first time, I understood that knowing something no longer fits can be enough information to begin moving.


You don't always need to know the destination before you're allowed to leave the parking lot.


Outgrowing Yourself Isn't Failure


We talk a lot about perseverance.


Stick with it.


Don't quit.


Finish what you started.


There is wisdom in persistence. There is also wisdom in recognizing when persistence has quietly become attachment.


Sometimes the hardest thing to release isn't the job, relationship, role, dream, or plan.


It's the version of ourselves attached to it.


Who am I if I'm not a high school counselor?


Who am I if I'm not the person everyone comes to for this?


Who am I if I change my mind after spending years building this?


Who am I if I admit I want something different?


Those aren't small questions.


But I've learned that changing direction doesn't erase everything that came before it.


I didn't stop being the woman shaped by nearly 20 years of counseling because I chose a different path.


I brought her with me.


The listening.


The empathy.


The ability to see possibility in someone before they can see it themselves.


The years spent sitting beside people during moments of uncertainty.


None of it was wasted.


It became part of what came next.


Maybe You're Not Lost. Maybe You're Between Versions.


If something in your life feels off right now, you don't necessarily need to blow everything up tomorrow.


Start by getting curious.


Ask yourself:


What still fits me, and what am I holding onto simply because it's familiar?
If nobody expected me to continue being this version of myself, what would I choose?

What have I been quietly wanting that I keep talking myself out of?
Am I staying because this is still right for me, or because I don't know what comes next?

And perhaps most importantly:


What would become possible if I trusted myself before I had all the answers?

I couldn't see Golden Hour Life Coaching from where I stood in 2018.


I couldn't see every person I'd coach, every room I'd speak in, every story I'd eventually tell, or every unexpected opportunity that would find me.


I just knew the old version of my life was getting too small.


And eventually, I stopped trying to squeeze myself back into it.


It's never too late to rediscover yourself.


To reinvent yourself.


To reimagine what comes next.


Your previous chapter doesn't have to be bad for you to be ready to turn the page.


Ready to discover what's next?


If you're somewhere between "this doesn't fit anymore" and "but I don't know what comes next," you don't have to figure it out alone.


Allow me to walk alongside you as you rediscover what fits now, imagine what's possible, and begin writing your next chapter.




 
 
 

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