Starting Over, Staying Grounded, and Letting Go of What No Longer Fits

A few weeks ago, my life looked very different.

I was living in the Middle East, moving through my routines, working, creating, and preparing to launch the second edition of my book. Then, almost overnight, everything changed.

I lost my voice for nearly three weeks. A regional crisis unfolded. My husband and I left our home. I found myself in Greece trying to regain my footing, and now here I am, back in the United States, taking things one day at a time and adjusting to a new reality.

It is a strange experience to go to sleep one day rooted in a life you have built, and wake up somewhere entirely different, figuring out what comes next.

There is something exciting about starting over. The possibility, the openness, the sense that you get to rebuild with intention.

But there is also something mournful about it.

Because starting over often means leaving behind the familiar. The routines. The version of life you had grown used to. Even when you know that staying is not the best option.

And that is what this experience has reminded me of.

It reminded me of how hard it is for people to leave what they know, even when what they know is not good for them.

I have worked with so many clients who want love, who want something better, but feel stuck. Some want to meet someone right down the street from where they live, unwilling to step outside of what is familiar. Others stay in relationships that no longer serve them because the fear of being alone feels heavier than the discomfort they are already living in.

I understand that fear.

In my book, I share a very dark time in my life when I left an abusive marriage. I left everything. My home, my belongings, the life I knew. Walking away from our home in the UAE brought some of those feelings back in unexpected ways. It was triggering in a way I did not anticipate.

But it also reminded me of something I already knew.

Just because something feels familiar does not mean it is right for you.

And just because something is uncertain does not mean it is wrong.

So often we ask for a new love, a better life, more peace, more fulfillment. But we are not always willing to take the steps required to step into those possibilities.

We hesitate.

We question.

We stay.

Because stepping into something new means becoming someone new. It means letting go of who we were, how we lived, and sometimes even what we thought we wanted.

And that can feel like a loss.

I am not here to preach or to suggest that everyone should just leave, start over, or take big risks. Life is not that simple, and we are not all built the same. We all have different levels of readiness, different responsibilities, and different emotional capacities.

But I do believe this.

Life is what we make it, and at some point, we all have to decide what we are willing to accept and what we are willing to change.

Being back in Los Angeles was not on my plans. Living in the United States again was not something I had mapped out for myself. But here I am, already doing what I can to make the best of it.

Maybe my time in the Middle East was only meant for a season. And maybe that season has simply come to an end.

I do not look at this as failure. I look at it as experience.

I lived it. I learned from it. And now I get to apply those lessons to what comes next.

Right now, I am not rushing anything.

There is still a lot to figure out. Shipping our belongings back during a crisis. Finding a new home. Replanting the next stage of life. Continuing work that started abroad and now needs to take shape here.

Some of that work includes a project I had already begun, one that I am now preparing to continue here in the States. And in many ways, that feels exciting.

For now, I am moving through things in a way that feels steady. Not rushed. Not forced.

Just intentional.

Today it is raining where I am, up in the mountains just outside of Los Angeles. After nearly four years in the desert, the rain feels like a gift. The air is fresh. The trees are full. There is a quiet sense of peace that I did not expect, but I am grateful for.

And as I sit here, I feel good about where I am, even with the uncertainty.

My hope is that if you are reading this, something in it resonates with you.

Many of you are here because of love, healing, and relationships. Others are here because you enjoy reading and reflecting.

Wherever you are in your life, this is what I want to leave you with.

Things can feel stable. You can have your routines, your patterns, your sense of normal. And sometimes that stability is beautiful.

But sometimes, without realizing it, stability can turn into stagnation.

Days start to look the same. Weeks pass. Opportunities go unexplored. Conversations never happen. Risks are never taken.

And life becomes the same moment, repeated over and over again.

There is nothing wrong with peace and consistency.

But there is something worth questioning when you stop living your life because you are afraid to disrupt it.

Whether it is leaving a relationship, opening yourself up to love, traveling somewhere new, or simply doing something differently, growth almost always requires movement.

Not perfection. Not pressure.

Just movement.

Wherever you are right now, you do not have to rush. You do not have to force anything.

But you can ask yourself one simple question.

Am I staying because it is right for me, or because it is familiar?

And from there, you decide what comes next.

— Collette

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