Career Reinvention: Why Going Back Is Moving Forward

I started my career as a journalist. I didn't choose this path so much as roll into it, the way you aimlessly wander along, and then something, suddenly fits. And then once you're part of that world — for me, from my first role at The Times — having no idea how it had never not existed. For someone inherently nosy, who loves words and has never quite learned to mind her own business, journalism is the obvious professional destination, but having objectivity on your own career is a job in itself.

Then, of course, things change. Or rather, life does.

I adored my journalistic streak for well over a decade. I moved between broadsheets and glossy magazines, and helped shape, in a small way, the dawn of the digital publishing revolution (yes, I am that old). Then things shifted. I wrote a book, which unexpectedly led to me starting a business, and finally I settled into a new industry: professional development. I worked hard and learnt fast about the architecture of how people grow, develop and drive progress for themselves. It suited me. It became, over time, a beautiful constant.

What has happened most recently is where I suspect many of you will recognise something.

It wasn't dramatic, and it wasn't a crisis. This latest shift has been quieter and more gradual than either of those things, and that's precisely why it's worth naming.

During those amazing learning years (and they continue, here at AllBright), I had also moved away from the core of what I loved: writing. I honestly didn't even notice it. You rarely see the shape of something while you're inside it, right? But I see now that I'd left my journalism, the way you leave a room without switching the light off, still fully intending to go back.

I think we carry the gains and losses at work more than we admit. And that's ok, in many ways, because we can't make progress on all fronts, all at the same time. Something must give. Like me, maybe you've noticed yourself moving towards the next thing in your career, leaving some facets of your passion back in a previous chapter? Parts of your professional life don't disappear exactly; they just get quieter depending on the circumstance.

All normal, and hopefully relatable.

What I can tell you, from standing somewhere else now, is that those old things don't go away. And it's a revelation to realise and experience.

Let me explain what on earth I'm talking about.

If you haven't already noticed, this article is sitting inside a brand-new home: The AllBright is our fresh, digital magazine and, whoop, I'm back editing again. I am living the essence of one day, reaching back for something in life, and realising it was there the whole time.

Skills, passion, your purpose, how you work, where you work, these are moveable elements in a long career, and let me tell you, each lever can be pulled again, with immense satisfaction, when the time is right. The moral of this story, before I even get to the end: you can't lose parts of who you used to be. This is a powerful lesson to accept. And a freeing one too.

For total transparency, I didn't go looking for journalism again, well not obviously. Sure, I was part of important conversations around the way our amazing company continues to evolve, and how it became increasingly clear that we were missing something important: a true editorial home. But I didn't have a gameplan for myself. I had kind of put the whole journalism thing to bed. And I thought I was ok with that.

Then, this new place, this fabulous, exciting concept, rooted in ideas, culture and smart, generous conversations, always through the prism of modern womanhood, came alive almost before I'd even registered what was happening. And then I was back.

Why am I telling you all of this? Well, there's so much talk in the ether about reinvention. And I'm good with that. We must try to avoid treading water when it no longer serves us. But there is another version of reinvention that is perhaps more surprising: the return. Going back, can very much be about looking and moving forward. Not because you failed at what came in between, but because that time added layers of knowledge, experience and wisdom. For me, I am lucky enough to have my cake and eat it.

The Learning part of my career hasn't gone anywhere. Now though, it sits alongside being the Editor-in-Chief of The AllBright, a title that makes me smile very broadly every time I write it down. I am somewhere new and somewhere old at the same time, and it is, despite the madness, totally glorious.

So here is what I want to leave you with.

Don't close doors completely. Don't write yourself off from the things you once loved just because your path moved away from them. Skills don't expire. Passions don't either. The network you built in a previous chapter doesn't disappear, it goes quiet, and then it comes back to life the moment you reach for it.

Careers are being redrawn right now. The Etch A Sketch has been shaken, the old lines erased, and most of us are somewhere in the middle of figuring out what we want to draw next. That is not a crisis. That is an invitation.

Stay open. Ride the waves. Fear them even a little. But don't mistake a change in direction, even one that heads backwards a bit, for loss. Because what you're moving towards might just have been waiting for you all along.

Before we get into some useful actions, a concept that pulls my story into a working professional place is job crafting. This is the practice of actively and continually moulding your current role to best fit your strengths and passions. You can do this by leaning into the parts that energise you, dialling back on the elements that don't, and finding ways to reintroduce the dormant skills and passions.

If this resonated, here are five steps to reevaluating your career...

1. Name the thing you left the light on for. Not a vague sense of something missing, but the specific skill, role or creative impulse you moved away from. Write it down. That act of naming is the beginning of everything, and crucially, it doesn't have to mean starting again. It might just mean looking differently at what you already have.

2. Audit what that chapter actually built in you. Not just the obvious skills, but the less visible ones: the judgment, the instincts, the contacts, the confidence. You took more with you than you realised when you left. Now ask yourself honestly: where in your current role could those things live again, even partially?

3. Ask what could shift. Job crafting isn't about finding a new role, it's about reshaping the one you have. Which parts of your work could you lean into more? Which responsibilities could you reframe, expand or reclaim? Small adjustments to how you spend your time and energy can quietly change everything.

4. Make contact from your previous life. Not a speculative email, a real one. Tell them what you're thinking about. The response will tell you something important, either about the opportunity or about how ready you actually are. Sometimes the door doesn't need to be reopened. It just needs to be nudged.

5. Stop waiting for the right moment and start building the conditions for one. Returns, or the refinements, rarely arrive fully formed. They usually begin as new conversations or a yes to something small. Remember, incremental compounding changes drive lasting success.