When Life Makes You Stop: My Career Pivot Story

Sometimes the best career move is slowing down — and it turns out, peace looks good on me.

I have been a go-getter for as long as I can remember. Anyone who’s known me for five minutes will tell you: I’m happiest when I’m juggling ten things, running from one thing to the next, and still finding time to bring snacks.

Honestly, I’ve thrived in chaos since I was a kid.

My mom taught us to read and write before we even set foot in kindergarten, and my dad — a full-on math genius — treated math homework like the Olympics. And when I would tell him, “No, Dad, the teacher says it’s not done that way,” he would show up at school the next day to tell the teacher she was wrong. Nine-year-old me was absolutely mortified.

Present-day me? Laughing my head off.

The lesson I got early: education and a good job matter — a lot. And as the oldest of three, I was the example. So, naturally, I went all in.

The Drive Started Early

I moved to the U.S. when I was 12, turned 13 that summer, and jumped into high school. I learned English in a few months. By 10th grade, my principal sat me down and said, “You can either stay here and be valedictorian or go to a college-prep school where you’ll really be challenged.”

I was terrified to leave my friends, but my drive was louder than my fear.

Fast-forward: I finished my senior year at a new school, did well, and headed to Northeastern University for biology and premed. My parents were over the moon.

And then… surprise! Halfway through college, I realized my favorite classes weren’t labs — they were my sociology electives. I liked people. I liked talking about real-world problems. I liked not spending hours alone with a microscope. So I switched my major, graduated on time, and learned one of the best lessons of my life: choosing joy over “what looks good” is always worth it.

Building a Career That Felt Like Me

My first jobs were all about people and purpose — parent education at a health organization, public health work at a hospital program, and then a role at a small nonprofit called Inversant.

I started as a parent facilitator, working with families who didn’t know how to navigate the U.S. college system. My parents hadn’t known it either, but they were central to my decisions — and I wanted other kids like me to have that same experience.

Six months later, I was managing partnerships. Before I knew it, I was director of programs in my 20s. My boss — now a dear friend — handed me the keys to our entire program department. That’s where I learned:

• I can mentor others

• I’m bad at delegating (but I learned!)

• Leadership is less about having all the answers and more about lifting people up

The Go-Go-Go Years

Then came marriage, baby number one, and my master’s degree in public administration — all while working full time.

I gave 110% to everything: wife, mom, student, manager. Then COVID hit. Daycare closed. My toddler became my very loud Zoom coworker. I still wrote my 40+ page final paper and graduated in spring 2020 — all while my marriage was quietly falling apart.

By March 2021, I was pregnant with my second child, had filed for divorce, and moved back in with my parents. I still kept working like my life depended on it.

The Dream Job That Wasn’t

Then came the opening for the Boston director of a national youth nonprofit — a job I had dreamed of. Seven interviews later, I got it. I was thrilled.

But four months in, my divorce was at full tilt, my energy was gone, and I was giving scraps to my kids at the end of the day. That’s when I realized: I can’t give 110% to everything.

And more importantly: I don’t have to.

The Big Pause

I made a decision I never thought I’d make — I left my dream job.

It felt like failure at first. Like I was letting go of everything I’d worked for. But it was the first time in years I chose my peace over my hustle.

I moved into a content creation role at a private company — flexible hours, no work following me home, and the space to just… breathe. When I felt ready, I returned to the public sector in a state role that fits my life now instead of consuming it.

What I Learned When Life Made Me Stop

Walking away didn’t kill my ambition — it saved it.

Here’s what I learned:

💡 Ambition and rest can be best friends. You don’t have to be exhausted to be accomplished.

💡 Your worth isn’t tied to your title. A business card won’t tuck your kids in at night.

💡 If you don’t choose to pause, life will choose for you. And trust me, it’s gentler if you make the first move.

💡 Peace isn’t quitting. It’s building a life you can actually enjoy living.

Four years later, I’m still ambitious. But my ambition is softer now. Kinder. I no longer need to prove I can do it all — I want to do what matters, with people who matter, in a way that lets me show up for my kids and myself.

If you’re reading this and you’re in your own season of reassessment, I want you to know: Choosing yourself is not a setback. It’s a strategy. And you’re not behind. You’re just building a life that’s right for you.

💜 — Rochelly