About this article:
In The Reinvention, a marketer on rebuilding themselves, their brand, or both — the moment everything had to change, what they had to let go of, and what you can only learn when you have to start over.
On the morning I quit, I pulled the Death card from my tarot deck. In tarot, Death does not predict literal death; it represents endings and transformation. As I gathered the courage to resign without another job lined up, the card felt like confirmation: this was the day I would step down from the career ladder I had spent years climbing.
In 2022, I felt tired and lost. On paper, I was thriving: Senior Vice President of E-commerce and Marketplace Strategy at a multinational agency with prominent clients, influential leaders, and strong financial backing. COVID-19 had made e-commerce essential, and my expertise was in demand. Yet I was uninspired and bored.
The parts of my career I once cherished—strategy, results, team development, and client relationships—felt missing or broken. Practices I had built for an in-person workplace did not translate to a fully virtual environment. My team found my hands-on leadership style demotivating, and my “clients as partners” approach was not producing growth quickly enough.
Changing roles would not solve the problem. I needed to rethink how I worked and what I wanted from my career and my life.
After three months of what I called my “summer sabbatical,” I had detoxed from work and completed the personal tasks I had neglected when my career consumed my life. I was unemployed and considering leaving digital commerce entirely. I was burned out from leading an around-the-clock e-commerce practice during the pandemic and disillusioned by the turmoil that followed lockdown.
To imagine a different future, I listed what interested and energized me, researched possible paths, and created a “My Ideal Day” vision board. It centered on wellness and community, not social media or Big Tech. I began to see a career designed by me, for me.
When I was ready to return to work, searching for “e-commerce executive” felt like looking for a needle in a haystack. My next opportunity would come through relationships, not a job board.
Your personal brand is what you know, who you know, and how you show up. I made calls, accepted introductory meetings even when the fit was unclear, and sought practical advice from industry leaders. Friends, colleagues, and neighbors expanded my network and helped me see possibilities beyond my immediate view.
As I explored those possibilities, I also had to reconsider what the right opportunity would look like.
A pivot required me to widen my definition of the right role. I needed to explain why I was interested in positions that did not neatly match my résumé and consider opportunities below my previous level or salary.
I also had to admit what I did not know—yet—and accept that getting my foot in the door was not a step backward. It was a way forward.
During my sabbatical, I took inventory of what gave me energy and what drained it. I identified industries and brands I was unwilling to work with. Beyond pay and advancement, an opportunity had to support my intellectual, emotional, and physical well-being.
I became more discerning about what deserved a yes and more willing to ask, “What is in it for me?” That question was not selfish; it was a test of alignment.
Companies may promise work-life balance, but no one can create it for you. For me, balance means financial, emotional, and physical safety. I track daily wellness measures, and when I feel off balance, the scorecard helps me identify what needs attention.
I now communicate my needs more openly and directly. That vulnerability benefits everyone: my clients, partners, and business receive my best work, and I expect the conditions that allow me to sustain it.