Coffee with my younger self

This morning, I sat down for a coffee date with a familiar stranger—my 36-year-old self. She arrived on time, balancing a 5-year-old and a 2-year-old on either hip. I’d gotten there 10 minutes early, savouring the rare stillness of a quiet café while my kids were tucked away in school.

She ordered a skinny flat white. I opted for almond. She looked tired but hopeful, the way I remember being at that age. And as we talked, it became clear that this version of me, from six years ago, was searching—reaching for something she couldn’t quite put into words.

"I feel lost," she admitted, her voice wavering. "I love my family, my job, my life—but it feels like something’s missing. I’m searching for my true purpose, but I don’t even know where to start."

I smiled knowingly. "I didn’t find mine until I was 42," I reassured her. "And even then, it came after years of perseverance. Purpose isn’t something you stumble across—it’s something you find in the doing. The messy, uncertain, brave act of showing up every day."

She hesitated before confessing something that I already knew she carried. "It feels wrong to want more," she confessed. "I have a beautiful family, a stable job, and so much to be thankful for. But I want to do more, be more—and that scares me. What if I fail? What if I chase something that isn’t even meant for me?”

I leaned in closer, remembering how heavy that guilt felt, how suffocating the fear of failure could be. "Failure, adversity, and tough decisions—that’s where the growth happens," I told her. "You can’t skip the hard parts. They’re not just hurdles; they’re part of the path. And that fear you’re feeling? It’s proof that you care deeply."

I could see the conflict in her—it was written across her face. She wanted to believe me, but the reality of living it still felt overwhelming.

There was a moment of silence before I decided to give her a gift—a glimpse into what she’d become.

"One day, you’re going to transform," I told her. "You won’t just find purpose; you’ll embody it. You’ll become an advocate, an educator, and a supporter for women’s health. You’ll change countless lives—not because you planned every step, but because you followed what ignited your passion."

Her eyes sparkled with a mix of awe and disbelief. "How do you have it all together?" she asked, the question almost a whisper.

I smiled again. "I don’t," I admitted. "But I know my non-negotiables, and I never settle for less than what aligns with my values. Staying grounded isn’t about perfection; it’s about prioritising what matters most to us."

Our time together was fleeting, as all precious moments are. Before we parted, I reached across the table and held her hand for a moment, wanting her to feel the strength she already possessed.

"Enjoy every phase of life," I told her. "Don’t wish away the chaos, the exhaustion, or even the doubt—it’s all building you into who you’re meant to become. Learn from everything. Our experiences shape us, and our passion leads us. Trust that you’re on the right path, even if it feels unclear right now."

She nodded, her expression softer, the weight on her shoulders just a little lighter.

And as she walked away, holding the tiny hands of her two children, I knew she was going to make it. Because I remember being her. And because I am her.

To every career woman, every mother, or anyone who feels an aching desire for "more"—I see you. The search for purpose, balance, and fulfillment isn’t easy, but it’s worth it. It’s okay to want more while appreciating what you have. It’s okay to take up space, to dream big, to fail and try again.

Purpose isn’t a destination—it’s a lifelong conversation between who you are and who you’re becoming. Be patient. Be brave. And above all, be kind to yourself as you grow.

You’ll make it, too. I know it.