What a Waste
Three different times in my life, people have looked at a major decision I'd made and said some version of the same thing.
"What a waste."
The first time was when I stopped practicing law to build my Mary Kay business.
People couldn't understand it.
"You worked so hard to become a lawyer. Why would you leave that to sell skincare?"
Several years later, I did something that confused an entirely different group of people.
I turned in my Pink Cadillac and went back to practicing law.
This time it was the Mary Kay community shaking their heads.
"You worked so hard to earn that Cadillac. Why would you walk away now?"
Then, at age 55, I sold My Pink Lawyer®.
Once again...
"You're retiring?"
"What are you going to do now?"
"What a waste."
Looking back, I find it funny that three completely different groups of people all came to exactly the same conclusion.
None of them realized I never felt like I was walking away from something.
I felt like I was walking toward something.
That's a very different feeling.
I don't know that I can fully explain it, but each time I sensed that a season of my life had simply run its course. There wasn't some dramatic moment. More like a quiet whisper that kept saying, You've learned what you came here to learn. It's time for the next chapter.
The interesting part is that I had no idea what that next chapter would look like.
When I left law for Mary Kay, I certainly wasn't thinking, This is preparing me to build another law firm someday.
When I left Mary Kay, I wasn't thinking, Everything I learned here is going to make me a better entrepreneur.
And when I sold My Pink Lawyer®, I definitely didn't have My Thrive Life™ all figured out. Honestly, it took me about fifteen months before I had any real clarity about what was next.
At the time, those decisions looked disconnected.
Looking back, they look inevitable.
Here's what I missed while I was living it.
Every chapter was preparing me for the next one.
Mary Kay taught me how to encourage women, mentor them, speak, teach, and lead.
My law practice taught me how to help people navigate difficult decisions with confidence and peace. Building My Pink Lawyer® taught me how to build systems, lead a team, and create a business that reflected my values.
None of that disappeared when those chapters ended.
I carried it with me.
Today, I use all of it.
That's why I smile a little when someone says they're "starting over."
I don't think we start over nearly as often as we think we do.
I think we build.
We carry our experiences, our wisdom, our mistakes, and our strengths into whatever comes next.
Nothing is wasted.
I think that's where people sometimes get stuck.
They assume leaving a successful role means admitting it was the wrong one.
I don't see it that way at all.
Sometimes the role was exactly right...for that season.
Sometimes you've learned everything that season came to teach you.
That doesn't diminish what came before. It honors it.
One thing I've also learned is that other people's opinions usually tell you more about them than they do about you.
The people who questioned my decisions weren't trying to hold me back.
They were simply looking through the lens of their own experiences.
If they loved practicing law, of course they couldn't imagine leaving it.
If they dreamed of earning a Pink Cadillac, of course they couldn't imagine turning it in.
Sometimes leaving something seems like a judgment on them staying put. (It’s not.)
Their reaction made perfect sense.
It just wasn't my path.
That doesn't mean we should make impulsive decisions every time something new catches our attention.
Some of my biggest decisions unfolded over months, even years. What seemed impulsive to some was a long time coming in my mind.
But I do think we should pay attention when that quiet whisper keeps returning.
Maybe you've outgrown a role.
Maybe you've learned what you came there to learn.
Maybe you're not being called to abandon your past.
Maybe you're simply being invited to build on it.
And yes, it often takes courage to pivot and make decisions that go against the grain yet feel right in your heart.
Looking back, I don't see a wasted law degree.
I don't see wasted years in Mary Kay.
I don't see a wasted law practice.
I see classrooms.
Each one teaching me something I couldn't have learned anywhere else.
And each one preparing me for the work I'm doing today.
In my last article, Who Are You When the Role Changes?, I wrote about why our roles are not our identity. This feels like the next part of that conversation. If you haven't read it yet, you can find it here.
I'd leave you with one question.
Instead of asking yourself, What would I be giving up?
Try asking,
What would I be carrying forward?
I have a feeling the answer is a lot more than you realize.
If you've been reading my recent articles, you may have noticed a common thread. They all point to the same idea: much of our experience is shaped by hidden patterns we've developed over a lifetime. Recognizing those patterns is the first step toward consciously creating a life and work you genuinely enjoy.
If you're curious, you can learn more about the Identity OS Framework™ here.
Read next: Who Are You When the Role Changes?
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