I Didn’t Have a Plan. Turns Out I Had a Direction

At the Threshold

I Didn’t Have a Plan. Turns Out I Had a Direction

A word I read this morning helped me understand a career I never could have planned.

I read Chip Conley most mornings. He has a way of offering one idea that rearranges the furniture in my mind.

This morning, it was a word.

Coddiwomple.

To move with purpose toward a destination you can’t quite name.

I smiled when I read it.

I recognized it immediately.

Looking back, some things make more sense now.

One showed up in high school.

I stood at a microphone in the principal’s office doing the morning announcements. I loved it. Sharing information. Using my voice. Something about it fit.

Even then, something about communication felt cool.

So did another fascination that grew over time. Human behavior. Why people do what they do. Why I do what I do. That study is still underway.

The jobs changed. The through line didn’t.

I built a successful career in television news in a major market, my hometown. I was good at it. I worked with smart, talented people I respected.

And still, after many years, something had started to shift.

Working nights was taking a toll. Life outside of work was starting to feel too small. Fulfillment was waning, and yet I wasn’t finished. I didn’t have to decide.

Then the decision was made for me. My contract wasn’t renewed.

They wanted ratings. The business is about business, not loyalty.

Maybe if they got someone younger, prettier, from a bigger station, it would move the numbers.

It didn’t.

At the time, it was devastating. Hard not to take it personally when it’s your face, your name, your career.

What followed was not some elegant reinvention story.

The obvious move would have been another TV job. That made sense on paper.

I didn’t do that. My agent fought for me, but he knew I had more potential.

I took classes. I went on retreat. I found a therapist. I sat with painful feelings and a shaky sense of identity for a year.

Then I started moving.

Toward something I could feel but not identify.

I followed the one thread that had always been there. Communication.

I moved into communication coaching because it was the most natural bridge.

The minute I stepped into it, something clicked.

Then came the part no one romanticizes. Learning the craft. Getting certified. Taking risks. Building a business from scratch. Trusting I could actually make a living doing work that felt meaningful.

That was over 20 years ago.

It took a few years to build momentum. Then credibility and word of mouth did what they tend to do.

The work deepened.

I got better at hearing what wasn’t being said. Better at seeing what lived underneath the conflict, defensiveness, indecision, ego, and the fear tucked inside executive polish.

Better at helping people tell themselves the truth.

Here’s what I understand now, and what I see every day in the people I work with.

Many of us are still holding ourselves to an outdated model of how a life or career is supposed to unfold.

Linear. Predictable. Fully mapped.

That model no longer reflects reality, if it ever did.

People live longer. Work longer. Change more than once. Outgrow roles that once defined them.

And for many women, there is another layer. Visibility can decline just as wisdom, discernment, and confidence finally hit their stride.

So the question changes.

It is no longer only “What’s next?”

It becomes, “Who am I now, and how do I keep expressing that honestly?”

Maybe that’s what coddiwompling really is.

What I know now is this:

Some things only make sense after you’ve lived them.

Pay attention to what keeps calling you.

What keeps returning usually matters.

You may not have the full picture.

You may not need it.

You may already be exactly where you are supposed to be.

Right here.

Still going.