Where Do I Go From Here? A Journey of Becoming

Where Do I Go From Here? A Journey of Becoming

This week, I received a letter that stayed with me:

I’m a mom in my mid-forties. I just married off my oldest, sent my next one to Israel, and have the remaining kids in high school. I have thrived in my career since my children were born, but now—with a quieter home and more time than I ever imagined—I feel completely unfulfilled. What once gave me purpose now feels hollow. I long to take off the “professional hat” and figure out what comes next…but I have no idea where to start.

Signed, A little (or a lot) lost

I read it once. Then again. And again. Because in those words, I heard so many of the women I work with. And if I’m honest, I heard parts of myself in it, too.

Last week, I went to see Mel Robbins on her “Let Them” tour as I told you I would report back on what I learned. I went because I love her work and wanted to be inspired. Like so many of us, I went because I’m always chasing the next layer of clarity.

Mostly I went because I needed someone to remind me of the things I tell others every day.

And wow, did she deliver.

There were a lot of powerful moments, but a few stuck out to me:

There is no perfect time. Mel said something that hit like a lightning bolt: “There is never a perfect time. Just the time you decide is right.” We wait. We overthink. We pause our lives for the kids to grow, for the next opportunity to fall into our laps, for the universe to give us a sign. But life isn’t a GPS. You don’t get the full route before you start driving. You just need to move.

It’s never too late. The room was filled with women in their 30s, 40s, 50s, and beyond. Every single one of them was asking the same question: Is it too late to change? To want more? To do something that finally feels right? And Mel’s answer, like mine, is: No. It is never too late to pivot, to wake up, to dream again. You can begin again at 45, at 60, or even at 85. Because reinvention isn’t about age, it’s about alignment.

Other people’s wins are not your losses. This one made me tear up. We spend so much time comparing our lives to someone else’s Instagram photo. We think we are behind because someone else is ahead. But their success doesn’t take anything away from you. Their success can inspire you, energize you, but it should never define you.

You have more time than you think. She showed us a 100-year timeline. It stretched across the stage. Most of us, even in our 40s or 50s, are barely halfway through. Halfway! What would you do if you knew you had 40 more good years? What would you attempt to do? What would you cease tolerating?

Your dreams are your own; not everyone will understand. Sometimes, the people closest to you will be confused by your desire to change. They might be scared for you. They might not get it. And that’s okay because your vision does not require their permission. 

It’s not just about “Let Them,” it’s about “Let Me.” Mel reminded us that if all we do is “Let Them,” we run the risk of letting ourselves disappear. Let them think what they want, but also, let me try. Let me say no. Let me grow. Let me start over. Let me become what I’m meant to become. 

And to the woman who wrote in: I want you to know that what you’re feeling isn’t an ending. It’s an opening.

You spent years building your life around your children. That was beautiful. That was meaningful. That was your everything. But now? You get to build something new with them in the background. And that’s beautiful too.

So many women hit this point and think, “What now?” I’ve seen it happen after divorce, after loss, after a kid leaves home, after a milestone birthday. Sometimes the questions don’t come with a crisis, just a quiet ache.

Years ago, a woman came to me after retiring early from a high-powered career. She said, “Everyone thinks I should be thrilled. But I don’t know who I am without the emails, the deadlines, the pressure. I thought I wanted freedom. But I miss being needed.” And we worked slowly to figure out what she actually wanted. It turned out she didn’t want retirement. She wanted redefinition.

Another client, a stay-at-home mom of five, told me she was ready to work again but felt paralyzed. “I haven’t done anything in years,” she said. We sat together and listed everything she had done: run a household, managed chaos, raised children, served her community, volunteered, stayed married through it all. “You’ve done everything,” I told her. “Now we just translate it.”

A few years ago, I found myself in the exact same position. I had just transitioned out of my work as a therapist—a role that had defined me for over a decade and still defines me but in a different way. I loved the people, the stories, the growth, but something inside me had shifted. I was no longer lit up by the work. I didn’t know what was next, only that it couldn’t be what it had always been. I remember sitting at my desk one night, tears in my eyes, thinking, “What if I walked away from something that mattered? What if I never find my ‘thing’ again?”

But those quiet questions led me somewhere powerful. They pushed me to explore coaching. To speak, to write, to build something new. Was I scared? Absolutely. But I was also proud. Because, for the first time in a long time, I was following a path that felt like mine: not inherited, not expected, not defaulted into. Chosen.

You don’t need to know exactly where you’re going. You just need to believe there is somewhere to go.

Reinvention doesn’t have to be dramatic. It can start by taking a class. Or having coffee with someone who does something interesting. Or volunteering for something that speaks to your heart. You don’t have to quit your job tomorrow. You don’t need a 10-step plan.

You just need one small move.

One step toward what lights you up.

One decision that makes you proud.

And sometimes you need to remind yourself what you’re capable of. I recently met a woman at an event who shared that she signed up for an improv class on a whim. “I’ve never been funny,” she said. “But I wanted to feel silly again. I wanted to remember who I was before life got so serious.” A few weeks later, she realized it wasn’t about comedy at all. It was about expression. Play. Permission.

Another friend told me she started a jewelry-making course because she missed using her hands to do something other than folding laundry. Now she’s turned it into a side business, but more importantly, she’s turned it into a reason to wake up excited again.

We think these nudges must lead to something huge: a new career, a reinvention story worthy of a TED talk. But sometimes they just need to lead to you. To joy. To curiosity. To life.

Let them wonder. Let them talk.

But most of all?

Let yourself try.

Let yourself rise.

Let yourself become.

And if you feel a little (or a lot) lost, that does not mean you’re broken. You’re just on the edge of your next becoming.

And what a beautiful edge that is.

If you have a question about life, career goals, a situation you’re struggling with, or a topic you want to explore, send it my way and I will address it in a future article. Whether it’s about careers, relationships, personal growth, or navigating life changes later in life, I want to hear from you. Email me at [email protected]. Let’s talk about life, success, failure, reinvention, and everything in between. Because if there’s one thing I know for sure, we are never done evolving. n

Tamara Gestetner is a certified mediator, psychotherapist, and life and career coach based in Cedarhurst.  She helps individuals and couples navigate relationships, career transitions, and life’s uncertainties with clarity and confidence. Through mediation and coaching, she guides clients in resolving conflicts, making tough decisions, and creating meaningful change. Tamara is now taking questions and would love to hear what’s on your mind—whether it’s about life, career, relationships, or anything in between. She can be reached at 646-239-5686 or via email at [email protected]. Please visit www.tamaragestetner.com to learn more.