Hello, Reader!

Last time, I wrote about the cost of staying and leaving when a career seems to be successful, at least on paper.

This week, I want to look at another reason staying can be so tempting:

You're good at what you do.

• You know how to do it.
• Other people know you're good at it.
• Your experience has value.
• Your professional identity makes sense to everyone around you.

And when the old role comes back into view, it can be surprisingly difficult to say no.

I've been thinking about this through two very different stories.

One is mine.

The other belongs to a reader of my new book.

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When I left the corporate world, I took my old identity with me

There is a story in Why Smart People Stay Too Long in the Wrong Career that begins with a quiet realization: something no longer feels right.

I know that feeling because I've lived it.

At the time, I was working for a global company in the travel industry. I had built a career that made sense: good income, international projects, a clear professional identity.

And when I started noticing that the old career was no longer enough, I didn't leave.

I improved.

I invested in an MBA.

I explored new business ideas, but carefully, and always within the same logic, building on what I already knew I did well.

Eventually, at 40, after fifteen years in corporate life, I made what looked like a bold move.

I left the big company and started my own business.

From the outside, it looked like a successful career pivot.

It wasn't.

Not because the business failed.

It didn't.

I had new clients. Long-term contracts. I earned good money, even compared with my previous corporate role. I felt energized by building something of my own.

But I had changed the structure without changing the essence.

I was still doing e-commerce consulting. Solving the same problems.

Operating within the same professional identity, only now as an entrepreneur.

And after a while, the familiar feeling I had in the corporate world returned:

This is not it.

Looking back, I can see that leaving a job and leaving an identity are two different things.

I had done the first.

I hadn't yet done the second.

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Another story, another kind of crossroads

One of my readers recently told me about a very different version of the same dilemma.

She had already left her corporate role and was at a crossroads, considering what direction to take next.

After a while, she was invited to an event with her former team and former director at a luxury hotel.

She was glad to see them, and pleased when they invited her to come back.

It was actually nice to know that they still wanted her there.

They appreciated what she had done. They knew what she was capable of. Her old professional identity still had a place for her.

And yet, she said no.

She told me it was really hard to do.

Of course it was.

Imagine being offered the chance to return to a role in which you already know you're good, and you don't have to prove yourself from the beginning.

The old professional identity is still there, ready to receive you.

It works.

That's what makes it so seductive.

---

But does it still fit?

I think this is where career transitions become much more complicated than the usual advice suggests.

We often talk about leaving as though the old career has stopped working.

But what if it hasn't?

• What if you're still good at it?
• What if people still value what you bring?
• What if you could go back tomorrow and perform well?
• What if the old role would even make your life easier in some ways?

None of that tells you whether you should stay or leave.

It gives you a different question to consider:

That question feels very different from:

“Am I successful?”

Or:

“Can I still do this?”

Or even:

“Is there anything wrong with my career?”

There may be nothing wrong with it.

It may simply no longer be where your curiosity, energy, or attention want to go.

---

You don't always leave because you've failed.

Maybe this is one of the harder parts of change.

You may leave because you've succeeded at something for long enough to realize that “Am I good at it?” is no longer the question.

You can still decide that it isn't where you want to spend the next chapter.

I'm learning that these are not contradictions.

They may simply be signs that a professional identity that once served you well no longer fits the person you're growing into.

Until next time,

Elena