Walking Away to Find Myself Again

Choosing Myself and Choosing Life

There comes a moment when silence becomes louder than the noise. When you stop running from one deadline to another, when you put down the phone or step away from the laptop, and you simply notice yourself, the people you love, and the world around you. 

Sometimes, it’s in something as simple as a sunset. The way the light softens, the colors spread, and the world seems to pause for just a moment. Sunsets have always been my therapy and my reminder that endings can be beautiful too, that closing a chapter always makes space for a new one.

In that stillness, you realize that life isn’t supposed to feel like this. That exhaustion isn’t a currency we should pay to exist and that joy shouldn’t only be reserved for weekends or holidays.

I believe there’s a big difference between existing and living. Existing feels like moving through life in the shadows, always waiting for Friday, waiting for holidays, waiting for the “right” time. But truly living arrives in flashes of color: in the laughter of my son, in the quiet presence of family and in the glow of a sunset that reminds me how precious it all is.

For a long time, I convinced myself otherwise. Like so many of us, I told myself that tiredness was normal, that stress was the price of having a job that looked good on paper, that silencing my needs was simply being “professional.” But whenever I allowed myself to stand fully in the present, I knew the truth deep inside: this can’t be all there is.

Falling in Love with Human Resources

Twelve years ago, I didn’t plan on a career in Human Resources. I fell into it almost by accident just being at the right time and in the right place but what started as coincidence became my calling.

I discovered the incredible privilege of shaping the employee experience, of standing by people not just in their professional milestones but also in their most vulnerable life moments. The birth of a child, the loss of a loved one, the excitement of a new role, the heartbreak of a departure... We sit at the intersection of all of it. And being able to support people through those transitions, to influence the way they felt cared for and valued, gave me purpose.

That’s what I fell in love with. And for more than a decade, that’s what kept me showing up: the belief that my work mattered, that I could create spaces where others felt seen, heard and supported.

The Privilege of Global Leadership

In these past years, one of the greatest privileges of my career has been leading a global team. Watching them show up, care for one another, and support the people we serve, despite all the challenges we’ve faced together, has been nothing short of inspiring.

The resilience, the compassion, the way they carried not only their responsibilities but also each other has been beautiful to witness. I would do it a thousand times again, without hesitation because those moments, that spirit of connection and humanity, reminded me why I chose this path in the first place.

There are memories from this journey that will stay with me forever: the quiet collaboration during difficult times, the way someone on the team always stepped forward when another was struggling, the laughter we shared even in the middle of intense deadlines. These aren’t just professional memories... they are human ones. Leading this team has not only shaped me as a leader, but as a person.

The Shadow That Grew

But love can be tested.

Over time, I noticed myself changing... The spark I once had started to fade, the values that had guided me, integrity, respect, empathy, didn’t always align with the way the function was represented or prioritized. And I started questioning my voice, my place and my worth. 

And that realization was very painful because it meant admitting that the stability I was holding onto was costing me something far greater: my peace.

For the past year, I've wrestled with that discomfort. I've told myself things would improve, I've reminded myself of all I had built: nearly seven years of dedication, growth, and achievement. I had created something from scratch with my own bare hands, I had grown alongside the company, shaped by opportunities and challenges that made me who I am today as a professional.

It’s hard to explain what that feels like because it’s not one big moment, but a slow erosion. A part of you goes quiet each day: the ideas you stop voicing, the energy you no longer bring, the passion that gets buried under disappointment and frustration until one day you look at yourself and realize: this isn’t who I want to be.

But deep down, I knew that staying would mean betraying myself slowly becoming someone I didn’t recognize: frustrated, confrontational, and resentful. And I couldn’t let that happen to the profession I love, or to myself.

The Decision to Leave

So today, with a mix of gratitude and grief, I close this chapter.

It is bittersweet because I will miss my team deeply, because I will miss the moments of growth, because I will always be grateful for the opportunities I had here. But it is also necessary because I know that honoring myself and my legacy requires me to step away.

I choose to leave with honesty, with dignity, and with love for everything I built. I choose to protect my spark before it burns out completely.

And in leaving, I’m not walking away from responsibility but I’m walking toward truth. Because staying, for me, would have meant at some point not showing up as I truly am. And that wouldn’t have been fair: not to myself, not to my team, and not to the company I’ve poured so much into. Sometimes the most caring act we can offer is to step aside with integrity, so that what we built doesn’t become overshadowed by the weight of misalignment and negativity.

Transformation as a Constant

Walking away from stability is never easy because the unknown is intimidating and very scary but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life is made of cycles. We’re not meant to stay still forever, we’re meant to transform.

My life has been a constant rebirth, and I’ve always embraced it in the most important moments. At 21, I quit a stable job to move to London as an au pair, trusting that the unknown would teach me more than comfort ever could. Later, I walked away from university, where I was studying to become an English teacher, because I felt a stronger pull toward a different path and that leap led me into Human Resources, the career I would grow to love.

I left Spain again to return to London, this time for the chance to join PwC and step into the world of a Big 4 company, where I proved to myself that I could stand in global spaces. I transformed once more when I became a mother, an experience that shifted my entire perspective on love, responsibility, and the legacy I want to leave.

And perhaps one of the hardest transformations was choosing to walk away from a 10-year relationship, divorcing the father of my child because I no longer felt respected, loved, or valued. It was a choice to protect my peace and rediscover myself after losing so much of who I was in that relationship.

Each of those choices felt terrifying at the time but each one taught me something vital... that I could survive endings, that I could trust myself in the unknown, that I could rebuild from scratch without losing who I was. And each time, I discovered a version of myself I wouldn’t have met if I had stayed.

Transformation has always been my companion. Each time I’ve chosen it, I’ve emerged stronger, freer, more aligned. And I trust this moment is no different.

Beyond Work: A Life Philosophy

This isn’t just about leaving a job, it’s about choosing life in every sense... It's refusing to stay in friendships that diminish you, relationships that suffocate you, or spaces that silence you.

It’s about remembering that we don’t owe anyone the version of ourselves that runs on autopilot. We only owe ourselves authenticity, peace, and love.

Protecting my peace doesn’t mean living without challenges but it means setting boundaries, saying no when something doesn’t align, and choosing presence with my loved ones over constant productivity. It ultimately means remembering that life is not measured in deadlines or milestones, but in moments of connection.

And maybe that’s the biggest lesson I carry with me today: what remains in the end isn’t the fancy projects or the titles, but the love we gave, the presence we cultivated, and the truth we honored.

Choosing Myself

I don’t know exactly what comes next and, strangely, I’m at peace with that because I believe the present is all we truly have, and right now, in this present moment, I know I’ve made the right choice.

I’m choosing myself, I'm choosing life, I’m choosing to protect my spark so it can continue lighting the way forward.

And if you’re reading this, take this as a gentle invitation to pause, to listen to your inner voice and to ask yourself if you’re in spaces that allow you to grow or in ones that quietly drain you.

Life is too precious to spend in places that dim your light.

So choose yourself again and again... And again.

And just like the sun setting, I know this ending carries its own beauty because every sunset, no matter how bittersweet, is a promise that a new dawn will always rise.