The Pivot That Made Me More Powerful
When your mission outgrows your job, it’s not a crisis - it’s a call.
There’s a moment many of us reach in our careers that feels confusing at first.
From the outside, everything looks “fine.” You’re competent. Reliable. Accomplished. You’ve built a reputation that people trust.
But internally, something starts to tug.
Not because you’re ungrateful. Not because you lack ambition. Not because you’re chasing a shiny new title.
It’s because the work you’re meant to do is getting bigger than the container you’re doing it in.
That’s the moment a pivot begins.
The pivot wasn’t a detour—it was alignment
For a long time, I thought pivots were for people who were lost. People who needed to “find themselves.” People who didn’t have a plan.
But the pivot that changed my life came from the opposite place.
I knew exactly what I cared about.
I cared about helping people grow into leadership with clarity and confidence. I cared about creating environments where high performers aren’t just rewarded for output, but supported through the deeper shifts that come with responsibility. I cared about building cultures where trust isn’t a buzzword—it’s a practice.
Over time, I realized I wasn’t craving a change of direction.
I was craving a change of depth.
I didn’t want to simply do more. I wanted to do what mattered—on purpose, with integrity.
The quiet signs your mission is outgrowing your role
Most pivots don’t start with a dramatic announcement. They start with small moments that don’t make sense until you string them together.
- You keep noticing the same gap, the same problem, the same unnecessary pain—and it bothers you more than it bothers others.
- You feel a pull toward work that isn’t technically “yours,” but you can’t ignore it.
- You start teaching, mentoring, or translating because you see what people need, even if it isn’t written in your job description.
And then one day you realize the truth: you’re not burned out from work.
You’re drained from misalignment.
That distinction matters because it changes the question from “What’s wrong with me?” to “What’s trying to grow in me?”
The hardest part: letting go of what you’re good at
This is what no one tells you about pivots.
A pivot often requires you to release the thing you’re excellent at—the thing that has earned you praise, stability, and identity.
And that can feel terrifying.
Because competence is comforting.
It’s easy to stay where you’re capable. It’s easy to stay where you know how to win. It’s easy to keep collecting proof that you belong.
But sometimes, the next level of your life requires beginner energy.
Not beginner confidence. Beginner willingness.
Willingness to learn. Willingness to be seen trying. Willingness to build something before you have perfect answers.
I had to face a personal truth: perfectionism was not protecting me—it was limiting me.
Perfection is a polite form of fear. Progress is how you build power.
What grounded me: five values that became my compass
When you pivot, you need something more reliable than motivation. Motivation changes daily. Fear changes hourly.
What steadies you are values.
Mine are integrity, communication, collaboration, adventure, and trust.
- Integrity kept me honest about what I wanted and what I could no longer pretend was enough.
- Communication helped me name my pivot clearly, without apologizing or over-explaining.
- Collaboration reminded me I didn’t have to build alone. Community isn’t a bonus—it’s a lifeline.
- Adventure gave me permission to try, experiment, and stay curious instead of demanding certainty.
- Trust became the result of small promises kept—to myself and to others. Trust isn’t built through big declarations. It’s built through consistency.
When your values are clear, decisions get easier. Not painless, but easier.
Three questions that made my pivot real
If you’re standing at the edge of a pivot—or feel that tug but can’t name it yet—these questions helped me most:
- What problem do I keep coming back to, even when no one asked me to?
- Where am I shrinking to stay safe, even though I’m meant to expand?
- If I stopped chasing perfection, what would I start building?
Your answers don’t have to be dramatic. They just have to be true.
The identity shift that changed everything
Here’s what I learned: a pivot isn’t only a career move.
It’s an identity move.
It’s the moment you stop measuring your worth by how well you perform inside someone else’s definition of success—and start building a definition that matches who you are becoming.
For me, that pivot led to creating Growing Curiosity and writing The Science of GIS Leadership. Not because I wanted “more,” but because I wanted alignment. I wanted to close a gap I kept witnessing: talented people stepping into leadership without the time, support, or principles to let the transformation truly sync.
I wanted to be part of changing that story.
If you’re afraid, you’re probably close
If you’re contemplating a pivot, you may tell yourself you need more clarity before you move.
Sometimes clarity comes after movement.
Sometimes the next step isn’t a leap. It’s a small, brave action that proves you can trust yourself.
Send the message. Have the conversation. Build the first draft. Share the idea. Apply. Start.
Get out of your own way.
You don’t need perfection to pivot powerfully. You need honesty, values, and the courage to begin.
And if your mission is getting louder, don’t ignore it.
It might be the most truthful part of you asking for a bigger life.
Author Bio (short):
Izabela Miller is the founder of Growing Curiosity and the author of The Science of GIS Leadership. She helps high-performing professionals build confidence, clarity, and influence as they grow into leadership.
