The Things I Never Thought I Would Do

 I recently went to a therapist networking event that was like speed dating, but we weren’t allowed to talk about our business. One of the questions we were had to ask, and answer was about what we were doing 5 years ago and what has changed the most. I felt like it was such a hard question! I had no idea at first, all I could think about was all the different changes my life has gone through. One big difference though was pretty obvious, I left my job as a Clinical Director not once but twice.

 Five years ago, if you had told me that I would own a private practice, run a half marathon, and willingly wake up early or in the middle of my day to go for a run I would have laughed…. Hysterically.

 Actually, I probably would have asked if you had the right person. Because Michelle 5 years was barely recovering from working in a psychiatric nursing home (as a Clinical Director) and we were barely coming out of Covid restrictions. I was running on fumes.

 My life looked very different. I was focused (more like surviving) on getting through the day, working hard, taking care of everyone around me, and trying to figure out what came next. Like many people, I had dreams and ideas about what I wanted my future to look like, but there was always a reason to wait. More experience, more confidence, and definitely more certainty.

 The problem is that certainty never really comes.

 At some point, you just decide to take the next step and hope you figure it out along the way. Thankfully, my partner was there to remind me that I didn’t have to carry everything by myself. Every time I talked myself out of taking the leap, she reminded me that we’d figure it out together.

 When I started my private practice, I wasn’t completely confident. I didn’t have all the answers. I didn’t know exactly how everything would work out. What I did know was that I wanted to create something that felt authentic to me. I wanted a space where people could feel seen, supported, and understood. Starting a business has felt terrifying at times, but it also felt necessary.

 What I’ve learned is that confidence doesn’t usually come before the leap. It comes after you’ve taken it, and it’s ever growing and changing.

 The same thing happened with running.

 For most of my life, I did not and have not considered myself a runner. Sure, I used to run after having my daughter, the Facebook memories are my proof, but that was 16 years ago. So basically, running was something other people did. The disciplined people. The athletic people. The people who somehow enjoyed waking up before sunrise to exercise and actually stuck with it for more than however long I did it for.

 Then I signed up for a race without telling anyone, I didn’t want anyone to talk me out of it or make me feel crazy. I put myself into the lottery for the Chicago Marathon in October 2025 and waited a couple weeks to remotely say anything and holy crap, I got accepted! I still can’t believe it, that in 4 months I will be running 26.2 miles through Chicago.

 So naturally I freaked out and thought, “I need to train and practice. I need to sign up for runs. I need to know what it’s like to run in a crowd.” So I signed up for my first 8k in March 2026 and did the Shamrock Shuffle. And before I knew it, I was reaching out to organizations to donate for and run the Chicago Half Marathon. And then there I was training for a half marathon. Which I successfully completed on June 7th, 2026.

 There were plenty of days I didn’t want to run. Days when I was tired and the grief overwhelmed me. Days when I questioned why I signed up in the first place. Days when the couch seemed like a much better option. But every time I showed up, I proved something to myself. Not that I was fast or remotely the best, but that I was capable of doing hard things.

 The older I get, the more I realize that growth rarely looks the way we expect it to. It doesn’t arrive with a dramatic moment where everything suddenly makes sense. Most of the time, it happens quietly. One decision at a time. One uncomfortable step at a time.

 Growth comes from when you apply for the job. You start therapy. You leave the relationship. You open the business. You sign up for the race. You do the thing that scares you. Cue the phrase “fake it until you make it.” Then one day, you look back and realize you’re living a life that an earlier version of yourself never thought was possible. Especially that version of you from 5 years earlier.

 This past year has challenged me in ways I never expected. It has also reminded me that we are capable of adapting, growing, and carrying more than we think we can. There are still plenty of things I don’t know. There are still goals I’m working toward. There are still moments when I look around and think, “What the heck am I doing?”

 But maybe that’s part of it. Maybe growth isn’t arriving at a place where you have all the answers. Maybe… just maybe it’s learning to trust yourself enough to keep moving forward reminding yourself along the way that you don’t have to have all the answers.

 If I’ve learned anything over the last five years, it’s this: the things that change us the most are often the things we never thought we’d do. Like having the scary conversation with friends and family. The career change. The business from scratch. Signing up for a race that consists of running 26.2 miles because it was a bucket list item.

 Most importantly taking the freaking leap. And one day, you’ll look back and realize that the life you’re living now was once the thing that terrified you the most. Turns out, some of the best things in life happen after you stop waiting to feel ready.