Change can be exciting and scary at the same time.

Recently, I made a big change in my life.

After graduating from college and starting my career in Boston, I spent the next two decades moving closer and closer to the city. A short commute was all I wanted. It was my top priority. Every decision revolved around making work easier and getting more time back in my day.

But over time, my priorities began to change. And those priorities started to involve other people.

I found myself retracing my steps — moving west, farther away from Boston instead of closer to it. The short commute was no longer my number one priority.

My priorities became my family: my partner and our little shelter of animals.

Along with my partner came his daughter, who had been sleeping on the couch in our office during visits for the last several years. We had simply outgrown our house. It was the house with the perfect commute. The house that checked all the boxes at the time. The antique home we lovingly restored and brought back to life.

We loved that house. Every minute of it.

But it also left us financially stretched, and ultimately, I needed more than that house could offer us.

So we moved.

And the commute? Well… it’s not great.

But the house is beautiful. And the town already feels like home.

It’s one of those places where people stop to welcome you to the neighborhood — and they genuinely mean it. There’s a cute coffee shop I can walk to, and I already have a favorite local restaurant.

For the first time in a long time, life feels a little slower in the best possible way.

And honestly, I don’t think I would have had the courage to make this change a year ago.

Over the last several months, I’ve spent time both coaching others and being coached myself. That experience forced me to take a clear and honest look at my life and ask an important question:

What actually matters most to me?

Not what looks good on paper.
Not what other people would choose.
Not what I had convinced myself I was “supposed” to prioritize.

Me.

Coaching helped me realize how often we stay attached to old goals long after they stop aligning with who we are becoming. Sometimes we keep chasing the version of success we created in our twenties, even when our lives, values, and needs have completely changed.

For years, efficiency was my priority. Short commute. Busy schedule. Productivity.

Now? Presence matters more.

Presence with my family.
Presence with myself.
Presence in my own life.

And that commute? I’ve decided to look at it differently.

I still take the train — it’s just a much longer train ride now. But instead of viewing that time as something I’ve lost, I’m choosing to see it as time I’ve gained.

Time to think.
Time to write.
Time to plan.
Time to breathe.

Time for the things that normally would have taken me away from my family at night.

I want to focus on being fully present in whatever I’m doing.

When I’m working, the focus is work.
When I’m commuting, the focus is me.
And when I’m home, the focus is my family — me, Logan, and our six furry friends.

That’s one of the biggest things coaching has taught me: you do not have to build your life around someone else’s definition of success.

You are allowed to reevaluate.
You are allowed to change your mind.
You are allowed to want something different.

Change can absolutely be scary.

But sometimes, change is also the first step toward building a life that finally feels like your own.