Change Doesn’t Always Announce Itself
The thing about transitions? They often begin quietly. Mine started the moment I realized I would never meet someone’s expectations — and decided I was okay with that.
It took me two years to recognize that moment as the beginning of a major shift — something I now help others reflect on through my free Transition Guide.
Within the past decade, I’ve:
Earned my masters
Relocated to a new city from my hometown
Lost my father and navigated grief
Experienced four periods of unemployment in five years
And that’s not even everything!
But this transition — the one that’s shaping who I am now — didn’t start with a crisis.
It started with a quiet knowing: this isn’t going to work for me long-term.
I was working in a department of more than 200 people where I was the only Black woman. It wasn’t the first time I was the only Black woman on a team, but definitely the first of this size and magnitude.
I had normalized some of the microaggressions I experienced in my corporate career as “just a part of working in corporate”. But what I experienced in this specific environment was more than that — there were also blurred lines between job expectations and someone else’s personal expectations.
Our team of about 15 traveled for an offsite. We were usually remote, but a couple times a year, they wanted to meet in person.
Because I worked in event management for years before changing careers, I helped coordinate a lot of the logistics for this workshop including creating and designing a learning presentation for the team. These tasks were outside of my job description, but let’s be real — Black women rarely get to say, “That’s not my job”.
My flight had a very rough landing, it was hot, and it was past my dinner time. Oh, and the AC in my Uber wasn’t cold enough. All that to say, I got physically sick on the way to the hotel.
I immediately texted my manager to let her know I arrived but because I got sick, I wouldn’t go to the evening events. I figured I would be fine when I woke up.
Fast forward to the next morning, I was still unwell. With traveling, the high altitude, the slight jet lag, the extra work – my body basically said “enough”.
I called my manager and told her I was still sick. It may have been altitude sickness. I was scheduled to give my presentation first thing that morning but I couldn’t even stand straight. I figured we could come up with a solution. This isn’t rocket science.
Ultimately, after taking it easy that morning and giving myself extra time, plus coconut water, I delivered my presentation later that day. And then I went back to sleep.
All was well. Or so I thought.
In a 1:1 later that month, my manager said I had “lost her trust.” Not because I missed the presentation — but because I almost didn’t do it.
And if I hadn’t pulled it off, I would’ve been put on a performance improvement plan (PIP).
So… I lost some of her trust because I almost didn’t do something? In the words of Brandy, almost doesn’t count.
And from this conversation, I realized that I will never meet this woman’s expectations. She doesn’t want to trust me.
It didn’t matter that I actually followed through. I wasn’t being evaluated on my delivery or actual work performance. Because I wasn’t meeting her personal expectations — the unspoken ones where I’m supposed to prioritize the job over everything else.
She had no boundaries — and expected me not to have any either.
Let’s be clear:
My health comes first. Period.
I didn’t rage-quit or make a dramatic exit. And I have absolutely rage-quit before.
I stayed — for a while. I took every skill, every lesson, every ounce of knowledge I could.
And I used it to prepare for what’s next.
Because I knew I wouldn’t stay forever.
Some Lessons I Took With Me:
Your authenticity will trigger unhealed people. Be yourself anyway.
Be proud of yourself for making different choices than you would’ve in the past. That’s growth.
Forgive yourself for how you showed up in survival mode. You did the best you could.
Sometimes you can try everything, and it still doesn’t work out. You tried. That matters.
You don’t have to wait for a crisis to make a change. Listen to the nudge — the first or second time. Third at the latest.
Some transitions start loud. Others start with a whisper.
Both are valid. Both deserve your attention.
What shift might you already be in?
Sometimes the first move isn’t big. It’s choosing to get curious about your next step. My free Transition Guide can help you do that, with reflection prompts to honor what’s shifting — and what’s waiting for you on the other side.