Changing my career and becoming a 40 tear-old solo-preneur is hard.
There’s no sugar coating it. It really is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
Then why did I choose to shift gears and start a new career now? Funny enough, I never pictured myself as either a business owner or a coach.
I started the search because the lifestyle I was living simply could not satisfy my needs anymore. I loved my career as a marketing strategist that traveled the world…until I did not.
I wanted to get out of bed, not necessarily smiley and excited, but at least not bored and depressed. I wanted to stop feeling unmotivated, like I was in a void, questioning my reason to exist.
On top of that, my body was sending me signals that were so loud and alarming that I just couldn’t ignore anymore. I had to make a choice, and I chose to leave the career in marketing to look for alternatives.
That led me on a 5-year quest for my next career, searching for pieces of the puzzle and assembling the picture of my future. Learning how I function, what fuels, drives and depletes me helped identify that my next career has to anchor me in a lifestyle that supports my health, affirms my love for human experiences and connections, and most importantly, nurtures my community’s wellbeing.
It took me over three years to find that direction, and another year and half of fine-tuning, learning frameworks and modalities, and lots of trial and error to establish the core tenets of my integrative coaching practice: a practice that supports supports people with multicultural backgrounds and people navigating reduced capacity to move through challenges, build better relationships with themselves and others, and move forward with greater confidence and clarity.
So what's the hardest part of making this change?
Learning how to be a student again.
Going from being an experienced and confident marketing strategist to building a new coaching practice with no prior solo-preneurial experience, I encountered so many knowledge gaps that required new learning capabilities and shifts in my 'student mindset'.
Growing up in the ’90s in the Taiwan education system, I was trained to learn in a very narrow and transactional way. I studied to excel at exams, because higher scores meant compliments from classmates (and the occasional jealous stares), and approval from my parents and teachers.
I acquired knowledge not because of the joy of learning, but because I wanted to be loved by others. With a perfect score, I felt that all my flaws were overlooked and sins forgiven, and I made myself safe and respected in school, and then eventually in my career.
The efficient, brain-in-silo way of learning served me well. It equipped me to succeed at work, and equipped me to be able to discuss aortic aneurysm stent grafts with surgeons and genetic testing options with OBGYNs. My coping mechanisms served me well, and got me the financial stability and external validation I craved and needed.
Which made it all the more challenging when I started learning for the purpose of building a practice I want, not to pass exams.
The first challenge was that my mind was so used to following the roadmap and curriculum others set for me, I felt adrift in open water without the rules. It was like going from swimming in a pool, following the clearly marked lanes and ends, to swimming in open water - freeing and overwhelming at the same time.
All of sudden, I got to choose WHAT subjects to learn, and HOW I learn it. Making these choices alone was a lot to juggle before I ever got into the material itself. I learned to make the learning curve more gentle - give myself more time and lower the expectations.
Planning my practice, I determined that I want to hold a safe space that allows all kinds of truth, experiences and beliefs to breathe. I wanted to connect with people and nurture relationships through transparency.
In order to have that spaciousness, I needed to learn how to process my trauma, embrace shame and ego, build boundaries…and in that process, I learned that knowing how to build boundaries is just not the same as being able to actually build them. I finally understood the difference between learning only cognitively versus with my whole being.
Paying attention to my emotions and physical sensations really helped me embody new knowledge - internalize the skills deeper and be able to apply them effortlessly. In sessions, I became more present and spacious with my clients, meeting them where they are, giving only the tools they needed instead of squeezing them into a 5-step framework.
My whole body also felt more enriched in the process of learning. I experienced so much joy from learning with my five senses, heart and mind engaged, instead of just one part of my brain. My hands and sense of smell were rejuvenated in Center for Book Art’s book-binding class, my heart and stomach lightened and filled with a warm yellow glow in Frank Anderson’s Internal Family System (IFS) program.
The other thing that made learning challenging as a 40-year old student was that I wasn't used to learning from teachers younger than me.
I had this belief that because I was experienced and good at running marketing campaigns and working with teams from all over the world, I somehow would automatically know how to start a small business on my own, develop a practice that aligns with me and resonates with enough audience to earn me a living. Oh, and also further my art and care for my body.
This year, I started working with new coaches in two areas of my life. I started deepening my personal pelvic care practice with Brittney, and my writing practice with Krystiana. Both are brilliant and generous teachers who are a few years younger than me.
few weeks into learning with each of them, I noticed how much I wasn’t able to focus on learning the subject matters. M
y mind was running nonstop with comparisons, I felt vulnerable naked being the less knowledgeable person in front of a younger person, my ego felt threatened. Fear took up most of the inner space like green, toxic gas and left very little room for me to breathe in new information.
A part of me also started shouting, wanting me to walk away so I wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable. I was stuck in the drama inside me for weeks and I was exhausted trying to learn.You can imagine how much I actually learned.
As a culture, there's an expectation that being older automatically equals being wiser.
True, wisdom is often associated with age, because we learned from our mistakes, and it takes time to accumulate data. One cannot rush crops to grow without compromising their full vitality.
But does that mean that being older makes you more knowledgeable in every possible aspect of life? Of course not.
My brain knew that, but my heart had a hard time embracing that fact.
It took a lot of practice and honest conversations with myself to embrace that ego, and that is what allowed me to study with masters younger than me. Knowing how to be aware of the age difference without being activated by it was truly satisfying.
Starting from scratch in a new discipline is also harder now than it was at 25. Because I got wiser in many ways, I expected myself to just know how to do new things, like write for creative expression.
It was humbling when reaching my learning goals took more time and effort than I expected.
The process of noticing the ego when it showed up, giving it space to voice its concerns, and accepting without judgement, takes so much energy and time. And it’s been the most rewarding experience.
With time and daily practice, it got easier to work with, not against, myself. The internal fight became less and less frequent, which gave me back the energy and inner space to hold both humility and confidence.
And when that happened, learning became so much more fun. Without the comparisons, my ego relaxed and I got to bathe in the learning process and enjoy it. My beliefs were reframed into ones that brought the fun back into being a beginner, which not only made me a better student but also a better teacher, coach, listener and human being. And I’m just getting started.
What have you been learning this year? Is there an old learning habit or belief you’d like to shift out of? I’d love to know. Hit reply if something bubbled up for you.
