I thought I was Reinventing Myself.

Society tells women that they have responsibilities to fulfill. Women choose to say yes to these obligations until they become their whole identity. But one day, the labels become inconsistent with who they believe themselves to be and they decide to change. They ignore a text message to finish reading the chapter of a book. They go for a walk instead of mopping the kitchen floor. Their actions are barely noticeable—but they grow over time—until they smile more and walk with their heads high.

After my divorce in 2014, I’d been taking small steps towards change. But in 2022, an impromptu dinner with friends led to my boarding of my first transatlantic flight. After I got home from that trip, I spent the next three years traveling more than 200,000 miles and going to thirty countries. I started and ended a relationship. I hiked mountains that looked too tall and I accepted the changes that turning fifty brought to my body. I could feel myself changing.

I thought my transformation was complete when I sold our family home of seventeen years and moved to another state. I documented my transformation in a book and decided I would continue to say yes to myself. To outsiders, it seemed like I had reinvented myself.

And I did keep saying yes to myself—until December.

I launched a project in November that sought to find belonging in the everyday lives of women. I started in West Africa by exploring farms, co-ops, and businesses that are owned and operated by women. I listened to their stories and observed their communities. I chose to say yes to myself countless times on that trip—leaving sooner than initially planned, staying past the Thanksgiving holiday—all to prove to myself that I was a new person.

As part of the project, I mapped locations and the next stop was Guatemala. I booked flights, reserved hotels, and scheduled interviews. I was due to leave the day after Christmas. Initially, I thought my now adult kids had plans for the holidays. Even after finding out that they didn’t, I didn’t change anything. It wasn’t until my daughter asked me to spend the holiday with her that I considered changing my plans. I didn’t just consider it; I changed my plans. I cancelled my flight and adjusted my schedule. I took back the yes I said to myself and gave it to my daughter.

Now I’m left wondering: if I prioritized my daughter’s wants over mine, had I really been reinvented?

During an interview, the host asked me, “What’s one lesson about reinvention you want to share with my listeners?”

I told him, “It took me a while to realize I had changed. And after I thought my transformation was complete, I tried to leave my old self behind.” I moved. I switched jobs. I was moving forward in a life that was so different from the one I’d been living. But then I told him, “No matter how much I wanted to leave my old self behind, I couldn’t.” I sat in silence for a moment, the meaning of my prior statement becoming clear to me. I then continued, “The lesson I learned was that despite my transformation, I wasn’t actually reinvented.”

I was disappointed when I realized that moving to another state didn’t mean that all my baggage was left there. I wanted to be reinvented—to be confident enough to eat dinner alone or talk to a stranger on a tour. I wanted to put myself ahead of the dog and the cat and the adult children or choose a career that I was passionate about, not just one that paid the bills. But I hadn’t yet learned how to do all of that. I was still learning about this new part of me.

During the interview, I realized that my transformation had actually been learning how to coexist with my former self. It was now clear to me why I couldn’t leave my old self behind even though I was desperate to. It wasn’t gone because I still had obligations to my kids and my work. We needed health insurance, the dog needed someone to care for him, and I didn’t have enough retirement funds saved up for a new career.

It was okay that I didn’t leave my old self behind after my transformation. I wasn’t pretending that my other identities disappeared because I had found a new piece of myself. Instead, I was giving myself permission to choose what I wanted to say yes to. This time, it wasn’t just going on a trip but instead, the yes was spending time in New Orleans with my daughter, my son, and my friend. And while we were there, I didn’t miss Guatemala at all.

That was the true transformation.