What leap did you take that changed your life forever?

For over 12 years, I journeyed through the world of B2B marketing, crafting strategies, meeting goals, and ticking off achievements. But deep down, I knew my true calling lived beyond corporate KPIs and campaign briefs. My heart was tugging me toward something more human, more soulful.

The leap that changed my life forever wasn’t dramatic or sudden, it began one ordinary Sunday night, at 3:00 a.m. I woke up, gripped by anxiety, already dreading the tasks that awaited me at work. That moment of restlessness became a turning point. I began asking myself: Is this it? Is this the life I want to live?

That single moment planted the seed for change. I started exploring how to build habits that could sustain not just productivity, but positivity. How could I move through the week with a sense of meaning, not just relief on Fridays? That quiet questioning turned into a mission: to inspire and support other working people to live their dream lives, not just on weekends or holidays, but in the ordinary, in-between moments of every day.

I believe happiness isn’t something we wait for, it’s something we cultivate. Through small, intentional acts, we can shift our mindset, reconnect with our purpose, and slowly, meaningfully, transform our lives from the inside out.

Leaving behind the conventional path, I began writing. I poured my thoughts into books and journals, sharing ideas on self-love, purpose, and the power of daily rituals. I shared personal stories, habits, and affirmations, the tools that helped me rediscover my voice and align with my values. My dream became clear: to help others reconnect with theirs.

To me, living a dream life is not about chasing grand success, it’s about uncovering your why and learning how to live it, day by day. It’s about imagining a life where joy isn’t reserved for TGIF, but woven into the fabric of Monday through Sunday. It’s about waking up with intention, finding beauty in the small things, and celebrating progress even in the quietest moments.

Through my journey, I’ve learned to see “failures,” “regrets,” and even the messy, weird chapters as necessary parts of the story. They shaped the woman I am today. And now, I write to remind others: your past doesn’t define you, it refines you.

This leap from corporate strategist to soulful storyteller wasn’t just a career change. It was a reclamation of purpose. Today, I guide others through words of empowerment, daily rituals, and gentle encouragement, helping them reconnect with their dreams, their truth, and themselves.

What emotions did you battle before taking the leap?

The leap that changed my life didn’t come without resistance, instead, it came after wrestling with some of the most difficult emotions I’ve ever had to face: fear, self-sabotage, and perfectionism. Each one had its grip on me in different ways, quietly shaping how I saw myself, what I believed I was capable of, and whether I was “allowed” to dream bigger.

The first emotion to strike was fear. It shows up for so many of us. Sometimes disguised as doubt, hesitation, or even overthinking. For me, it was a mix of fear of failure, fear of making the wrong move, and ironically, even fear of success. I’ve changed jobs more than twenty times throughout my career. And each time I handed in my resignation, especially during the notice period, doubt would creep in: Is this the right move? What if I don’t like the next job? Am I just running away? Fear of the unknown made me second-guess my own intuition.

Then there was self-sabotage, the invisible force that quietly erodes my confidence. It often disguises itself as “realism” or “not being ready yet.” Looking back, I can now name the moments when I delayed starting something important, doubted my abilities, or avoided decisions that aligned with my purpose. At the time, I didn’t see it clearly. That’s the thing about self-sabotage, it doesn’t always shout. It whispers: You’re not ready. You’re not enough. Someone else is doing it better.

The hardest part is that it becomes a pattern. Without even realising, I would lean into perfectionism, telling myself things had to be flawless before I could start. That mindset gave me the illusion of control, but in truth, it was keeping me stuck.

Perfectionism, though often seen as a strength, was quietly draining my joy. I set impossibly high standards for myself, tying my self-worth to how well I performed. If something wasn’t perfect, it didn’t feel “good enough” to share with the world. So I’d delay, rewrite, overthink, or abandon it entirely. That inner critic, the one that says do more, be more, be better, kept me running on empty.

It kept me in my comfort zone, afraid to try new things unless I could master them immediately.

It stopped me from embracing failure, which is actually where the deepest learning happens.

It made me procrastinate, waiting for the “perfect” time or the perfect idea before starting.

It left me feeling not enough, relying on external validation to feel worthy.

It fuelled constant anxiety, with an inner voice that never let me rest or celebrate progress.

All of this, the fear, the self-sabotage, the perfectionism, created a loop that kept me chasing safety instead of purpose. And yet, the moment I decided to leap, I wasn’t fearless, I was simply ready to stop letting fear have the final say.

What was the first sign you were on the right path?

I didn’t overcome my fears in one defining moment. There was no grand epiphany, just a quiet decision to start. To write, create, and share, even when I was afraid. Especially when it wasn’t perfect.

That’s when something shifted. I began to redefine success, not as flawless outcomes or external validation, but as showing up with heart, staying true to my values, and following my curiosity. I stopped waiting to be ready and started trusting that progress, not perfection, was enough.

The first real sign I was on the right path came not in applause or big wins, but in something much smaller: a sense of alignment. For the first time in years, I felt like I was finally listening to myself. The anxiety that used to accompany every Sunday night began to soften. I still felt scared, but I was no longer paralysed by it. Instead, I began to respond to my fear with gentle awareness, learning to see it not as a barrier, but a sign that I was growing.

Learning to live beyond the comfort zone

For years, I felt stuck between wanting more and fearing the cost of change. So I began to gently explore what lived beyond the boundaries of my comfort zone.

One exercise that helped was simply drawing a circle. Inside, I wrote the things I felt safe with: routine tasks, familiar habits, known environments. Outside, I listed the things that made me uncomfortable: networking, starting something new, expressing vulnerability. This small act helped me name my fears, rather than be ruled by them.

From there, I began taking small, deliberate steps. When I noticed fear creeping in, I’d ask myself: What am I really afraid of here? Sometimes it was rejection, sometimes failure, sometimes the fear of being seen trying. I didn’t have to conquer those feelings overnight. I just had to face them, one at a time.

Baby steps became breakthroughs

Getting out of my comfort zone doesn’t have to mean leaping into the unknown. For me, it looked like lingering a little longer in discomfort. Staying in a new conversation when I wanted to retreat, pressing “post” when my inner critic said not to. Over time, those baby steps began to build trust in myself.

And when I failed (because I did, and still do), I began to treat failure as a teacher. I reminded myself that failure is not the opposite of success, it’s part of the path to it. Listening to others share their stories helped too. I realised no one’s journey is straight. We just don’t always see the messy parts behind the scenes.

Inner shifts and everyday signs

Some of the most powerful signs that I was on the right path were the quietest:

Feeling grateful for tiny things at the end of the day, like the warmth of a cup of tea, the softness of a page turning in a notebook. In these quiet moments, I discovered my courage to say, this may not be perfect, but it matters to me, and that’s enough. I also started letting go of perfectionism, which had kept me stuck in cycles of procrastination and self-doubt. I realised that perfectionism had less to do with high standards and more to do with fear, fear of not being enough, fear of what others might think. The more I gave myself permission to be imperfect, the more I began to thrive.

The most important sign: belief

At some point, I began to believe, truly believe, that change was not only possible, but within reach. That belief didn’t come from success or praise. It came from showing up again and again, even when it was hard.

I believed that I could learn, grow, and become the person I had always wanted to be—not through grand gestures, but through daily choices. I reminded myself: you don’t have to leap all at once. You can walk gently toward your dream.

And along the way, I didn’t forget to have fun. I learned to laugh at my mistakes, to enjoy the process of becoming, to find lightness even in the unknown.

That was the sign I was on the right path, when joy started to return. Not the fleeting kind, but the quiet joy of knowing I was finally becoming the truest version of myself.