Coming home.

It’s been a summer of graduations and weddings. And now, perhaps the greatest celebration of all: my niece and her husband are coming home.

There is just something about the late summer months and the idea of family returning home that is incredibly affirming to me. A year ago at this time, we were dealing with some pretty unwanted news. Fast forward to now and it seems like this year has been a year of celebrations. What a fantastic way to meander through the final two months of summer: planning for their return and new house, more casual weekend get-togethers and the forthcoming holidays with all of the birdies back in the nest. I couldn’t ask for more.

And that brings me back to the journeys it has taken all of us to get here. There was a time in my life when I went pretty far away to school to experience the independence that life completely away from home would bring. Then, I came home and gradually made my way through both career and life. Ultimately, it led me to my most satisfying career – that of CEO – and all of the rewards and challenges that came with it. And while that part of my professional life was the most satisfying, eventually chasing the demands of the job ended up costing me dearly in my personal life. My husband’s cycling crash, a yoga Nidra class and a two-time job offer delivered me to the path I’m on today. Even then, however, I would need to make one more change and reduce my working hours to just over half-time to really make life work for us. Today, I define myself as a wife, sister, aunt and kitty mom first. Then I talk about what I do, but it really is only a small part of me.

I think the easiest part of my journey was to envision what my new life would look like. Every bad day at work, I rewrote my resignation letter. On the drive in and from work each day, I would envision life working from home. Every time I looked at the spare bedroom, I saw a home office there.

The hard part was making it come true. At first, I had no options – or at least that’s what I believed. For a very long time, I figured that no one would pay me close to what I was making to work either part-time or from home, particularly in a small town. So, I just sucked it up, put the daydreams aside and told myself to get on with life. And that meant work.

When my firm came calling, I honestly didn’t take it that seriously. I let myself daydream more because it was fun but I just really couldn’t envision the reality. I didn’t know how to be a consultant, I reasoned. I was gambling a “sure thing” that I knew I could do with the risk of doing this other thing. No one was super clear about salary so I didn’t know if it could be or would be comparable and I wasn’t about to risk my family’s financial security. Plus, work was busy. I had two building projects going on, a big expansion I still had to plan for and the constant worry about pushing forward and not burning anyone out. It just didn’t seem practical and it stayed in the land of daydreams.

And then the yoga Nidra class and the idea of simple peace. It was truly transformative but not in that instantaneous way. Instead, it was insidiously transformative. The idea that I was putting up roadblocks to my own future because it seemed too hard, too risky, too different, and too much upset for everyone around me began to settle in. I was the problem and I was afraid. If I truly wanted simple peace, I was going to have to get over my fears.

That’s one of the biggest parts of my journey that I often don’t talk about. I could dream it but I struggled to make it a reality. Everything seemed like a huge obstacle to overcome. Staying where I was was slowly killing me but it was preferable to making a change. I was the living example of Newton’s Law of Motion: I was staying at rest until acted upon by another force. That force was simple peace.

When the second offer came in, I didn’t hesitate. I had had enough conversations with my husband, my sisters, my best friend and others to know that all of the obstacles I had created were bigger in my mind than they were in reality. Too risky? Yes, there was an element of risk but I had never shirked from a challenge. That was what led to being named a CEO at 39 years old and recovering a near-bankrupt organization. This offer was infinitely less risky than other challenges I’d taken on before.

Too hard and too different? Others had done it and they had similar backgrounds to me. As I’m often fond of saying, “it can’t be brain surgery.” That, I know I couldn’t do. But managing projects? Helping other safety net clinics be successful? That wasn’t a leap for me. I knew how to do those things.

Too upsetting to others? This was a huge one for me. Other people relied upon me. I had hired people to work for me. I had sold them on my vision. Didn’t they deserve for me to stick around for longer? I remembered losing two of my mentors in my own career and how disappointed I had been when they went on to greener pastures. Though I didn’t resent them, it felt somehow like my obligation was bigger.

But then I thought of the people who were closest to me: my husband, my mom, sisters, other family… . They were constantly getting the short end of the stick. It was like I was everyday choosing strangers to them over them. Yes, I owed a professional obligation to people I liked well, considered friends and had recruited to join me. But, the family I had sacrificed at the alter of all of those responsibilities? They needed me. It was time to choose them.

Honestly, that’s what did it for me. Everything else I could cognitively clear away: the difficulty, the risk, etc. But the responsibility to the staff I had personally developed, mentored and liked? That was the most significant barrier to letting go. I saw this same thing recently with my niece and her sense of professional obligation even to a career she hated. And it strikes me now that we all feel that same pressure. These are human relationships we have built and they’re relationships that we spend eight hours a day or more immersed in. That sense of obligation isn’t just a mere outcome of that immersion; it’s what makes us human and a good person to be around. Doing onto others is one of the strongest guiding principles that keeps society moving.

But once I was able to see that my sacrifice was both unwarranted and not victimless, I got clarity. I could continue to put others before my family or I could put my family first. Put like that, the choice was easy.

Today, I remember that woman who struggled with the decision to cut free and do something new. I remember how she was struck by the feeling of letting others down – which she did. I also remember how she grieved for relationships that simply attritioned off due to lack of contact. I remember how scared she was that she was too old to learn new tricks and that she was also too financially important to her little family unit to risk their happiness.

But, she did it. Scared and sad as she was, she made the move and started a new life. The appeal of that slower pace of life and time for family overcame everything. If you’re standing at the precipice yourself, know that others understand you. We understand the stress and anxiety of a decision which should be a “no brainer.” And if it’s any consolation, it gets better fast and for the most part will continue to get better the more time goes on.

My niece and husband are coming home. She, too, made the choice to give up high-powered career goals to focus on family. While I didn’t have to move or sell my house, I came home, too. It’s a decision that has changed my life… always for the better.