I Built a Life I Don’t Want to Abandon

Yesterday, on impulse, I applied for a social worker position.

I didn’t expect much to come from it. I assumed it would disappear into the void of online applications like most things do.

Then today, I got a call back.

The moment I heard the voicemail, I felt surprise… then dread. Then the familiar story about job scarcity: Call them back right away. Don’t let this opportunity slip away.

I’m grateful for the opportunity and I know I’d be good at the job. I’ve done this kind of work before. I care deeply about people — about trauma, emotional safety, empowerment, and helping others reconnect with what’s possible for them.

But I also feel grief.

Grief at the thought of returning to a more conventional structure after spending years building a life with real freedom in it.

Slow mornings. Midday Jiu Jitsu. Spontaneous travel. Deep conversations in relational practice spaces. A life with spaciousness.

For the past few years, I’ve immersed myself in facilitating Authentic Relating, Circling, and IFS-informed sessions. I’ve watched shame turn into honesty, grief soften into connection, and people feel less alone in real time.

This isn’t work I accidentally fell into. It’s work I kept choosing.

My path here has been unconventional. I was a single teen parent. I served in the Air Force as a medic. I spent 20 years in the adult entertainment industry. I train in boxing, kickboxing, Krav Maga, and Jiu Jitsu. All of it shapes how I hold space with people.

I know what it’s like to navigate survival, reinvention, uncertainty, and transformation.

At the same time, there’s a practical reality I can’t ignore:

Loving meaningful work and knowing how to sustainably market it are not always the same skill set.

As I sat with all of this, I could feel multiple parts of me speaking at once: The part that wants freedom. The part that wants safety. The part that fears instability. The part that wants meaning.

IFS has taught me that internal conflict usually isn’t a sign something is wrong. Often, it’s different protective strategies trying to help in different ways.

Sadly there are still so many possibilities I haven’t fully explored in my own work yet.

I haven’t exhausted what’s possible. Not even close.

There was something shocking about how quickly they responded to my application. Such a contrast compared to the slower process of building something deeply personal from the ground up.

Maybe this moment isn’t asking me to choose between freedom and stability.

Maybe it’s asking me to get more honest about what I truly want — and what kind of support I need to keep building a life that feels aligned.

I’m moving forward with the interview on Tuesday.

But this moment also reminds me how much I believe in the work I’m already doing and the spaces I want to keep creating.

Maybe many of us are trying to hold both: Freedom and stability. Purpose and sustainability. Spaciousness and support.

If any part of this resonates with your own journey, I’d love to connect.

I currently have a few openings for 1:1 IFS-informed facilitation and relational awareness sessions for people navigating transition, uncertainty, unconventional paths, and inner conflict.

You can book here: