Isabel Arbeláez

At 44, I’ve come to realize that the moments that shaped me most were never the ones I planned for.

They were the moments that forced me to start over.

Moving to another country. Losing a job during a global pandemic. Rebuilding my confidence in rooms where I often felt out of place. Reinventing myself professionally and personally more than once.

None of those experiences were part of the roadmap I imagined for my life.

Like many people early in their careers, I once believed success came from having a clear plan and working hard enough to achieve it. As a young geologist from Colombia, my vision felt straightforward: gain experience, grow professionally, and build a successful career in the oil and gas industry.

Then life changed the trajectory completely.

An opportunity came to transfer to Houston, Texas — a move that felt exciting and full of possibility. At first, I focused on the obvious changes: a new country, a new culture, and new professional opportunities.

What I didn’t understand at the time was that moving abroad is not only a geographical transition. It is an identity shift.

Suddenly, I found myself navigating a different culture, communicating in another language, and trying to prove myself in environments that often felt intimidating. Back home, I had felt capable and confident. In the United States, there were moments when I second-guessed myself during simple conversations and professional meetings.

For the first time in my life, confidence no longer came naturally.

Looking back now, I realize that was the beginning of my real growth.

Those early years challenged me in ways no technical degree or professional role ever had. I had to learn how to adapt quickly, how to speak up even when I felt unsure, and how to rebuild trust in myself from the ground up.

Over time, things slowly began to change.

I grew more comfortable with my voice, gained confidence in my abilities, and eventually stepped into a leadership role as Geology Supervisor for the U.S. team. That promotion meant far more to me than a title; it represented resilience. It represented proof that growth often happens after periods of discomfort and uncertainty.

But life was not finished reinventing me.

In early 2020, I made the decision to change jobs, believing it was the right next step in my career. Only a few months later, the pandemic changed everything — and I lost my job.

Like so many people during that period, I experienced uncertainty, fear, and disappointment. But something unexpected also happened during that season of my life: for the first time in years, I stopped running.

Instead of immediately chasing the next opportunity, I gave myself permission to slow down.

For eight months, I focused on my health, my personal life, and learning new skills. I reflected on who I was outside of work, outside of titles, and outside of achievement.

What initially felt like a setback became one of the most meaningful periods of my life.

It taught me that productivity is not the same as self-worth. It taught me that success without balance eventually feels empty. And most importantly, it taught me that some of the moments we perceive as failures are actually redirections.

Eventually, I joined my current company as an Account Manager, beginning yet another professional transformation. Once again, I found myself evolving — this time moving beyond technical expertise into commercial strategy, business development, leadership, and relationship management.

Since then, I’ve been promoted to Senior Account Manager and now serve as Sales and Marketing Manager for North America.

If someone had told the younger version of me in Colombia that one day I would transition from geology into commercial leadership in another country, I probably would not have believed them.

But life rarely unfolds according to the plans we create for ourselves.

Over the years, I’ve realized that I didn’t immigrate only once. I’ve had to reinvent myself many times — geographically, professionally, emotionally, and personally.

And every version of me had to begin again.

Starting over is never easy. It can feel uncomfortable, lonely, and uncertain. It can make you question your abilities, your direction, and even your identity. But I’ve learned that growth often begins exactly there — in the moments when certainty disappears and we are forced to discover who we truly are.

Today, I’m proud of the career I’ve built, especially as a Latina woman in an industry where women remain underrepresented in leadership roles. But more than any title or accomplishment, I’m proud of the resilience I developed along the way.

I’m proud of the woman I became through every challenge, every transition, and every unexpected detour.

I’m also deeply grateful for the people who have supported me throughout this journey — colleagues, mentors, friends, and family who reminded me that success is not only about what we achieve, but about how we grow and who we become in the process.

If there is one lesson life has taught me, it is this:

Having a plan is important. But learning how to adapt is even more important.

Because life will change your plans. Sometimes quietly. Sometimes all at once.

And when it does, it’s easy to believe you have failed or fallen behind. But often, those moments are not endings. They are invitations to evolve.

Some of the best things that have happened in my life came from moments I never would have chosen for myself at the time.

So if you are navigating uncertainty, facing transition, or finding yourself starting over, know this:

You are not lost.

You are becoming.

And sometimes, the life you build after the plan falls apart becomes far greater than the one you originally imagined.