The Good Problem

A personal journey of letting go, starting over, and finding peace at 45

The Crossroads

Lately, I found myself in a quiet dilemma — one of those decisions that keeps circling in your head no matter how many times you try to reason it out. For months, I went back and forth between two choices.

One was to stay in the job I already had. I was a regular employee. The benefits were decent. It was familiar. There was a sense of stability.

But deep down, I knew there wasn’t much more room to grow. I could feel myself slowly stagnating — like I was playing it safe while something inside me quietly longed for more.

Then came another opportunity. A new job. Uncertain. No guarantees. But there was a whisper of potential — maybe a chance to start again, to learn, to expand, to rediscover parts of myself I hadn’t seen in a while.

Still, I was scared. Starting over at 45? Was that brave or foolish? Was it too late to choose growth?

I let the questions swirl in my mind for weeks. Months. Until eventually... I decided.

The Resignation and the Peace I Didn’t Expect

I resigned.

It didn’t feel triumphant. It didn’t feel like I had it all figured out.

But what surprised me was the peace. Not the kind you expect when everything is perfect — but the kind that comes when you know, deep inside, that you’ve finally chosen something that’s aligned with your truth.

I expected fear. And yes, it was still there — but it was quieter now. Overshadowed by something gentler, calmer.

Peace, it turns out, doesn’t always follow certainty. Sometimes, peace follows honesty with yourself.

What I Found When I Let Go

That peace revealed something I hadn’t seen clearly before: I wasn’t just making a career decision.

I was confronting a deeper part of myself — the part that thought “this is as far as I go,” or “maybe this is all there is for me now.” And when I let go of the safe path, I realized...

I am still allowed to dream.

I am still allowed to begin again.

I am still becoming.

It’s not about erasing everything that came before. It’s about using everything I’ve learned to build something more true to who I am now.

So… Was This a Good Problem?

Yes. It absolutely was.

This “problem” wasn’t rooted in failure. It came from a place of having options, of being at a threshold where life was inviting me to choose growth over comfort.

That’s what makes it a good problem — a hard decision between two decent paths, both with meaning. But one led to rediscovery.

And now, I see it clearly: Good problems don’t feel good in the moment. They feel heavy, complicated, uncertain. But they’re good because they stretch us into someone we haven’t met yet.

Reflections at 45

At 45, I am starting my career from scratch.

That’s a sentence I never imagined writing. But here we are. And honestly? There’s something beautiful about it.

Because I’m not starting from nothing. I’m starting from experience, resilience, and clarity.

I have peace — and I wouldn’t trade that for a familiar paycheck.

I have hope — and that’s more powerful than fear.

I have myself — and she’s worth betting on.

I trust the timing of my life. I am not behind. I am simply beginning again — with wisdom, strength, and purpose