What if success wasn’t a destination, but a story we get to rewrite?

 This is the question that emerged quietly—but persistently—as I stepped out of a 20-year career in engineering and international development and into the unknown terrain of midlife reinvention. When I was interviewed recently by Ine Franckaert for her qualitative research on women’s professional happiness, I found myself reflecting aloud on the turning points that have shaped who I am today: a scientist-turned-coach, a mother of three daughters, and a woman who dared to begin again.

I share this story not as a blueprint, but as a mirror—for the women who find themselves wondering whether it’s too late to change, too indulgent to dream, or too complicated to start over. The truth is: I’ve been there.

From Fulfilment to Burnout—and Back Again 

My career, on paper, looked enviable: technical expert, policy specialist, global consultant with institutions like the World Bank and the European Investment Bank. I was intellectually stimulated, financially stable, and contributing to causes I deeply cared about—climate change, renewable energy, and sustainable development.

And yet, at some point, something began to unravel. What had once energised me started to feel hollow. I wouldn’t call it a singular breaking point. It was more like a slow erosion—of clarity, of connection, of purpose. I was eventually diagnosed with burnout. But more than work fatigue, what I experienced was a deeper form of disconnection: from myself.

What many don’t realise is that burnout is rarely just about the job. For me, it was the culmination of multiple layers—emotional, familial, existential—all converging at once. The professional shine wore off when everything else around it felt out of sync.

The Courage to Change Course 

Did I know I needed to change? Not immediately. At first, I simply couldn’t go on. The strategies that had worked before—grit, problem-solving, planning—no longer brought relief. Over time, I saw that what was needed wasn’t a new plan, but a new paradigm.

Like a large ship slowly shifting direction, the reinvention process took time. First, I stopped. Then I reflected. And eventually, I started making small but significant decisions—one at a time. Therapy opened the door. Coaching carried me forward. And then I discovered the science of positive psychology, which felt like coming home.

The researcher in me was instantly captivated: here was a discipline grounded in rigorous science, but focused on human flourishing, meaning, and strengths. I asked myself: What if I could use everything I had learned—to support others through change? That’s how my new path began.

Reclaiming Identity: From Caricature to Creator

At first, I was plagued by imposter thoughts. Who am I to do this? Am I just a cliché of midlife crisis?

But as I began working with coaches, therapists, and academic mentors, I learned to shift these narratives. I stopped seeing my career change as a rejection of my past, and started recognising it as an integration. I wasn’t abandoning science—I was applying it differently. I wasn’t rejecting my values—I was realigning with them.

One day, I wrote down a vision: I want to become a world-class expert in helping people change their lives and thrive. Bold? Perhaps. But also deeply honest. It wasn’t about external prestige; it was about inner alignment.

This practice—of writing, rewriting, and reframing—became a core tool in my own transformation. And now, it’s something I offer to others.

Rewriting the Narrative: From Fracture to Wholeness 

For women, especially at midlife, identity can feel like a patchwork of expectations, roles, and unspoken obligations. My own narrative was shaped by strong influences—my father, a proud engineer; my mother, a physician whose mental health struggles deeply affected me; my aunt a wonderful woman who worked in international health & development, and my uncle, who transitioned from psychiatry to finance. For years, I felt torn between these legacies. I internalised the idea that I had to choose.

But as I did the inner work, I realised I didn’t have to discard any part of my past. I could integrate it. I could be the bridge between science and emotion, between numbers and meaning, between economics and psychology. In that integration, I found not only peace—but power.

Letting Desire Speak (Without Needing to Act) 

One of the most profound shifts in my thinking was learning that we don’t need to act on every desire immediately—but we do need to hear it.

Many women I coach are afraid to admit what they want, because they fear it will obligate them. But naming a dream doesn’t mean you must pursue it tomorrow. It means you’re finally telling yourself the truth. And that, in itself, is powerful.

Desire is not dangerous. Denying it is.

What I’ve Learned—And What I Ask You 

Here are some truths I’ve come to embrace, through science and soul:

  • Success is not static—it evolves as you do.
  • You can begin again at 44. Or 54. Or any age.
  • You are allowed to want more—even if everything looks “fine.”
  • Coaching and self-inquiry aren’t indulgences; they’re investments in clarity.
  • Purpose doesn’t shout; it often whispers. Listen carefully.
  • Dreams grow in silence before they become declarations.

And so I ask you:

  • What part of your identity is waiting to be reclaimed—or rewritten?
  • Where have you been silencing your own desires?
  • What would become possible if you allowed yourself to dream again?
  • What story do you want to tell five years from now? 

Conclusion: Becoming Whole, Not Just Successful 

I’m still on the journey. I’m still building. But I now feel whole—more than I ever did when I was ticking the boxes of professional success.

The integration of who I was, who I am, and who I’m becoming—that’s the true work of midlife. And perhaps, the most courageous one.

To any woman reading this and feeling “something’s not quite right,” know this: You’re not alone. There is no shame in outgrowing an old dream. There is wisdom in reinventing your story. And there is magic in becoming the woman you were always meant to be.

Sincerely Yours,

Dr. Sophie