On Hold - Why I Pressed Pause on My Second Book

The excerpt below is the current prologue of my second book — a story I’ve put on hold because I’m still becoming, still living it.

I had grand plans to go from one book to the next — #maximizing my creative time while I’m still working to build the next phase of my career. But as I started to draft my second story it became clear, the story isn’t finished yet: I’m still in it.

I’ve decided to share the intro here because I believe this story needs to be told, even if the format ends up different from a published book or the timetable shifts.

It’s the story of my leap from a high-powered career in public accounting to a life of leadership coaching and writing — a journey marked by fear, courage, and the fierce desire to live soulfully.

Thanks to my writing cheerleaders who remind me that our stories are worth sharing, even when they feel incomplete. I hope you find inspiration in these words.

Prologue:

“I quit.”

The words tumbled out, strange and heavy, like a truth too long buried.

I had rehearsed this moment countless times, but now, in the fall of 2023, as they hung in the air, they felt raw and exposed.

“I’ve decided to retire from public accounting at the end of busy season,” I explained.

On the Zoom screen, my boss’s face froze, his expression a mask of unreadable neutrality. My heart pounded in my chest, the rhythm threatening to betray my outward calm. Inside, a storm of emotions churned—relief, fear, exhilaration, and doubt colliding in a chaotic dance. For nearly two years, I had wrestled with this decision, preparing for this precise moment; I’d finally said it aloud.

Six months earlier, I stood atop a red rock formation in Sedona, the Arizona air electric with promise. Beneath the vast expanse of sky, I glimpsed the life I longed for—one not measured by hours billed or promotions earned, but by freedom and fulfillment.

My five-year-old daughter’s laughter hung in the background, light and full of wonder, as I awaited a reply from my boss. A reminder of all I wanted to savor. This was not a life to live on pause. It was time to leap.

“You are what?” my boss finally said, his voice a mixture of disbelief and incredulity. His expression tightened, his words deliberate. “Young partners don’t just retire. What if others start getting the same idea?”

His question landed like a warning shot, a challenge disguised as curiosity. The pit in my stomach deepened. I hated the thought of letting others down, especially the working moms who had fought tooth and nail to rise in a field where few women reached the top. But something had shifted within me, something that could no longer be ignored.

“Yes,” I replied, my voice steady though my hands trembled out of view. “This will be my last busy season. After twenty years in the profession, I’ve decided to shift directions and pursue my dreams of writing and leadership coaching.”

A charged silence followed.

My heart pounded.

For a moment, I wondered if I was making the right decision.

Fewer than 1% of new hires ever made it to partner, and even fewer came from the humble beginnings I did. Walking away from the only career I had ever known felt like jumping off a cliff.

Should I change my mind? Was it too late to shift the direction of this call?

No. I reminded myself that this was a choice that had been made with years of deliberate contemplation. I owed it to myself to at least try.

“Okay,” he said briskly, his tone clipped and businesslike. “Thanks for letting me know. Inform the rest of the leadership team as soon as possible while we still have time to promote someone else.”

With that, he ended the call abruptly, the screen going black before I could fully register his response. The silence that followed was deafening. I sat in my home office in the suburbs of Washington DC, staring at the darkened screen, a tidal wave of emotions crashing over me. I stared out the window into my terrace, the fall leaves making their way into scattered piles. Had I done it? Was I really charting this next chapter?

I settled for a moment, letting my heartbeat return to a more normal rhythm. The emotions within me continued to swirl. Courage mingled with fear, exhilaration with uncertainty. I had taken the first step. The leap was no longer an abstract idea—it was real and the next season of my life was already in motion. I closed my laptop and ran up the stairs to share the news.

My husband Gable greeted me with a high-five and a hug, his smile wide and proud. “You did it,” he said, his voice filled with certainty I didn’t yet feel.

My daughter played in her room, oblivious of the changes to come.

Gable had watched me in the ebb and flow of partner life for almost all our seven-year marriage. He had encouraged me along the way, even though I knew deep down he had a hard time understanding why I would leave the stability of such a high-paying position. But whatever doubt he felt in that moment, he didn’t show it.

I returned to my laptop moments later. I was ready to continue my conversations while I still had enough nerve left to follow through.

“I’ve decided to retire at the end of the busy season to follow my dreams.” I shared over and over again as I made my way up the leadership ladder.

“I wish I could do that,” one leader admitted, their voice heavy with longing.

“If only I could let go of the high paying job—or even figure out what my passion is,” another said, her eyes reflecting a tinge of envy through the screen.

I was thankful to find more encouragement in these conversations. Yet, these words stayed with me, stirring an ache in my chest.

I wondered how many of us were silently enduring, trapped by fear, security, or inertia, too afraid to take the bold leap toward what truly called us?

As I stared out the window at the soft hues of an autumn sunset as the day ended, I knew one thing for sure: the path ahead was uncharted, but it was finally mine to walk.

In what areas of your life are you being called to explore?

What kind of support would help you as you navigate the dance of potential change?

Share in the comments. I’d love to support you.

For the world needs who we were made to be.

Cheers!