It's Been Two Years Since I Left Accenture...

Jun 5

3 min read

Two years ago, I closed the laptop on my last project at Accenture.

I walked away from the adrenaline of high-stakes delivery, a packed diary that never ended, and a career built on always being needed.

And then it was quiet.

Too quiet.

No meetings. No Teams pings. No emergencies to fix. Just me, some very empty mornings, and the sudden, unnerving realisation that nobody needed me anymore.

It was sobering.

So much of my identity had been wrapped up in being the knight (dame) in shining armour - the one who delivered, solved, rescued. Now I had to learn how to be okay not being “productive.”

And I’ll be honest: that was one of the hardest things I’ve done.

Really good friends and a great support structure kept reminding me over and over again that I’d earned the rest - and that the drive and purpose would return.

So I let myself rest.

And by “rest” I mean I checked out entirely and read fantasy novels.

(Turns out my nervous system finds dragon warfare more relaxing than emails. Thank you, Fourth Wing.)

I unlearned the hustle. I started listening to my body.

Slowly, things shifted.

✨ My sleep deepened.

✨ My resting heart rate dropped, and the palpitations stopped.

✨ I became more present - with loved ones, with myself, and with fictional winged warriors who taught me surprising things about resilience. (Thank you, ACOTAR).

And eventually, I built what I now call my new normal:

✨ I don’t work in the mornings. That's my time.

✨ I have new communities - gym and dance class, Great Girls, Veblen, my (crazy and competitive) quiz team

✨ And I do work that actually fuels me - coaching, advising, making a difference.

Here’s what I’ve learnt in these two years since the pivot:

Rest isn’t indulgent. It’s necessary, especially when you're used to running on empty.
You are not your calendar. A full diary isn’t the same as a full life.
You get to want something different. And you’re allowed to say it.
Success is freedom. Not just titles and targets - but owning your time, choosing your impact, and spending time with your people.
You’re not stuck. If it doesn’t feel fulfilling or valued, you’re allowed to make a change.
The body keeps the score. It took months for my cortisol and adrenaline levels to stabilise, and for the body pains to reduce. Even now, two years on, the gym still hasn’t undone all the damage I did trying to be superhuman.
Fantasy books are valid medicine. (Ask my sleep tracker.) I admit I may have taken it a bit far though.
Community matters. Joining the Veblen Directors Programme reminded me what it feels like to be surrounded by smart, values-led people who care deeply about impact. (Also, I’ve done 16 one-on-ones in two weeks - possibly a personal record and a scheduling intervention waiting to happen.)