I handed in my resignation ten years ago this week.
Left my corporate geology career. No plan. Just knew I couldn’t stay.
Spent a decade hiding behind “entrepreneur” because it sounded legitimate.
I didn’t have my shit together.
Six weeks ago someone told me to make myself searchable.
My stomach dropped.
I’d been running a bus with a blank destination sign for years.
So I tried something. 30 conversations in six weeks. Just saying out loud what I actually do.
Not I find oil and gas. Not entrepreneurship. Not coaching. Not consulting. Not therapy.
Most of the time my chest tightened. I found more words that sounded closer but felt wrong.
“Mirror Cleaner.” Too abstract. “Integrative Specialist.” Just a mask. “Path Locator.” Too heavy.
Conversation 21. The word “companion” came out.
My chest settled.
Oh.
That’s what I’ve been doing this whole time.
Ten years for eight words.
Companion for people who don’t know what’s next.
I still catch myself trying to add more. To explain. To prove legitimacy.
When I do that, my chest tightens again.
The bus has been running the whole time.
I’m just finally putting up the sign.
Maybe you’re still looking for your words.
Or maybe you already know what you do but can’t quite say it yet.
Or maybe you just don’t know what’s next and need someone to sit with you while you figure it out.
That’s what I do.
Companion for people who don’t know what’s next.
