On change, courage, and choosing your next era
There is a particular kind of discomfort that doesn’t look dramatic from the outside.
You’re functioning.
You’re delivering.
You’re doing what’s expected.
And yet, something feels off.
Not enough to justify a dramatic exit.
Not enough to explain to others.
Just enough to quietly drain your energy, year after year.
Many people experience this in the middle of a successful career — when the title fits, the salary makes sense, and the path ahead is clear. And still, the question lingers:
Is this really it?
This article is inspired by our conversations with Rianne Hottinga — explore the episodes and reflections ↓
The invisible cost of staying too long
Change rarely announces itself loudly.
More often, it whispers.
It shows up as:
- a slow, steady drop in energy
- joy being replaced by short dopamine spikes
- a body that starts protesting before the mind catches up
- the feeling of constantly “pushing through”
In the early stages, this is easy to ignore. Especially if you’ve learned to perform, to persevere, to succeed.
But ignoring these signals doesn’t make them disappear.
It only postpones the reckoning.
Many people don’t change because they want to —
they change because they have to.
Burnout. Breakdown. A body that refuses to cooperate. A moment where continuing feels more dangerous than stopping.
The tragedy isn’t that people change late.
It’s that they didn’t feel allowed to change earlier.
Wanting to change vs. being forced to change
There is a profound difference between:
- changing because you are curious, ready, and choosing
- changing because you are exhausted, desperate, and cornered
When change comes from necessity, it often feels chaotic, lonely, and overwhelming. There is little room for play, exploration, or trust.
When change comes from desire, it carries a different quality:
- more agency
- more softness
- more room to learn
But desire requires something many high performers rarely practice:
standing still long enough to listen.
Standing still is not passive
In a culture that glorifies momentum, standing still is often misunderstood.
It is not quitting.
It is not failing.
It is not falling behind.
Standing still is an active choice to reflect.
To ask:
- What is costing me more than it gives?
- Where is my energy actually going?
- Which parts of my work light me up — and which drain me?
- Am I optimizing for approval, or alignment?
Without this pause, people often make “sideways moves” instead of real change:
- a new role, same misalignment
- a new company, same patterns
- a new city, same exhaustion
True change doesn’t start with new circumstances.
It starts with a new understanding.
Failure is not the opposite of success
One of the biggest reasons people delay change is fear of failure.
Not failure as an experience —
but failure as an identity.
What if I leave and it doesn’t work out?
What if I regret it?
What if I wasted years?
But this framing assumes that life is linear.
That decisions are either right or wrong.
In reality, most meaningful paths are iterative.
What looks like “failure” is often:
- refinement
- information
- a necessary detour
Many people discover what they want only by first experiencing what they don’t.
Nothing is wasted if it teaches you how to listen better.
Work is part of life — not separate from it
The idea of “work–life balance” suggests that work is something to escape from.
A more honest framing is work–life integration.
You don’t have two lives.
You have one.
The question isn’t how to balance them perfectly —
but how to design a life where your work:
- doesn’t constantly deplete you
- aligns with your values
- allows room for growth, rest, and meaning
This does not mean everyone should quit or become an entrepreneur.
It means success has to be personal — not inherited.
Change happens in small steps, not big leaps
We often overestimate the courage required for a single dramatic move — and underestimate the power of small, consistent steps.
Small steps:
- asking a question you usually silence
- admitting something no longer fits
- experimenting without committing
- tolerating discomfort without rushing to escape it
These steps build confidence, not because they are easy — but because they are honest.
Confidence doesn’t come before action.
It comes from action.
The messy middle is not a mistake
The space between who you were and who you’re becoming often feels unclear, lonely, and uncomfortable.
That doesn’t mean something is wrong.
It means something is changing.
The messy middle isn’t a problem to solve —
it’s a phase to navigate.
And you don’t need all the answers to begin.
You only need enough courage to ask better questions.
A quiet invitation
If you’re standing in change —
or sensing that it’s coming —
you’re not behind.
You’re paying attention.
And that might be the most important step of all.
If you’re navigating change, The Navyra Edit offers ongoing reflections — delivered straight to your inbox.
NAVYRA 