Looking back, my first realization that something unfamiliar was going on with me was when I was about 45 years old. I was crying more than my usual PMS (premenstrual syndrome) amount … sobbing. I called my friend Cordelia, saying, “I don’t know why I keep crying so much today. I don’t feel like myself.”

What was happening to me? 

I was in the midst of choosing which kindergarten to send our son to in seven months. I know that’s big, but the volume of tears that were flooding my ducts just didn’t seem to match the intensity of the circumstance. I felt this strange urge to call my son’s preschool teacher to discuss my options. From the phone I told her, between sobs, I wanted to speak to her, and asked if she was available. I had never cried in front of her, so she probably thought I was dying or something.

She offered to see me right away. When I arrived at her classroom, the floodgates were open. This volume of crying alone was...

During the same season of book title contemplation, my son graduated from high school and prepared to leave home for college. I knew my job title of 18 years was about to shift radically, but I had no idea what it would be shifting to.

I knew it would be a challenge for me to pivot from my coveted role as single mother of an only child. I knew there would be a few extra hours in the day to spend on things other than parenting. I was more than a little nervous about what that was going to look like. The heat was on to prepare myself for my new life in a new role. 

I took the challenge head-on and began listening intently to every entrepreneurial podcast I could find. Per my usual intense self-diagnosed, gently-OCD style, I took notes and created folders corresponding to podcasters who inspired me most. Gradually, a vision for a scaled version of my existing coaching practice took shape. There was a mixture of feelings ranging from paralyzing fear to excited, unknown...