When Plans Shift, Liberate Yourself from Expectations
In a recent New York Times article, journalist Jessica Grose writes about her parents, who unexpectedly found themselves raising her sister’s children. Reflecting on how her father has adapted to this unplanned chapter, she shares:
“My dad has said that for him, one of the gifts of raising the grandchildren has been a liberation from expectations — both for his own life and the children’s. None of this looks the way it was ‘supposed to,’ so why hold on to old ideas about what will make him happy or what makes a child happy?”
– Jessica Grose, “My Parents Expected to Be Retired. Instead, They Are Raising My Sister’s Kids,” New York Times, May 2024
That phrase — a liberation from expectations — feels like a profound insight, not just for family life, but for professional life.
Because in my work as a coach, I see this again and again: talented, hardworking people who have done all the right things, checked all the boxes, and still find themselves staring down a professional reality that doesn’t look like the future they imagined.
Sometimes it’s because of disruption — a job loss, a health crisis, a move, a caregiving role. Sometimes it’s simply that the career they were prepared for no longer exists. And sometimes — and this can be even more disorienting — it’s because the career dream they achieved just doesn’t feel meaningful anymore.
So what happens when the professional life you thought you were building — the one you were supposed to have — no longer fits?
When Change Is Thrust Upon You
There are transitions no one asks for:
A layoff
A contract that isn’t renewed
A sudden pivot in your company or industry
A job you needed to leave for personal reasons — not because you wanted to
These events rupture not just your plans, but often your sense of self. Termination in particular can feel like a judgment: You weren’t good enough. You didn’t belong.
But here’s the truth I see again and again: being let go is not the same as being lost.
It doesn’t mean you’re behind, broken, or unworthy. It means the system you were in could no longer hold the shape you were growing into.
These moments — whether subtle or seismic — often catch us off guard not because the change is inherently bad, but because it disrupts an internal script we didn’t even realize we were following.
As Grose writes in the article:
“Expectations are an odd thing, because you don’t always realize you have them until they fall apart.”
That’s the quiet shock of it. You weren’t consciously clinging to a blueprint. You were simply moving forward — until the path beneath you shifted. And suddenly, what once seemed like a steady plan now feels like a collapsed scaffold.
This is why career transitions are rarely just logistical. They are emotional, psychological, and deeply personal. And the work of moving forward begins with making those invisible expectations visible.
When Even the Desired Change Feels Misaligned
Sometimes the plan does come together — at least on paper. You get the job. You switch careers. You make the move.
But the new chapter feels off. You expected fulfillment and feel… unease. You thought the transition would bring clarity, and instead it brings more questions.
These are the moments when you realize that change is not the same as alignment — and that what you wanted may not align with what you need now.
Often, that misalignment comes not from the job itself, but from the quiet rules we carry:
“I should want this because I worked so hard for it.”
“This is what success is supposed to look like.”
“Other people would be thrilled to have this — what’s wrong with me?”
These “supposed to” messages don’t leave room for your current reality to speak. They trap you in a version of success that might not match who you are now.
Reframing the Narrative: A Practical Approach
Whether the transition is welcomed or not, it requires rethinking the story. Here’s a framework I often use with clients:
Name the Original Story: What did you believe your career or job would look like? Who told you that story — your younger self, your mentors, your peers, your family?
Acknowledge the Break: Be honest about what has changed. This isn’t about blame — it’s about recognizing that the plan no longer fits.
Extract What Still Matters: Your vision wasn’t all wrong. What parts of it still reflect your values? What can be carried forward?
Design From the Present, Not the Past: Stop designing your next move to make up for the last one. Instead, ask: What do I want and need now — based on who I am and where I am?
Recommit With Intention: You may choose something new. You may return to something familiar with fresh eyes. Either way, let the choice be yours — not the ghost of your former expectations.
In Closing: Reframing, Not Letting Go
Career transitions — whether desired or unexpected — aren’t about abandoning what you once hoped for. They’re about reintegrating what you’ve lived through into a new, more expansive framework: one rooted in possibility, presence, and agency.
The only thing you’re truly releasing is the belief that your path should have been fixed — that your career, identity, or worth is defined by how closely it follows an old script.
Instead, you are making space to say:
I can carry forward what I’ve learned.
I can be shaped by experience without being trapped by it.
I can build something new that honors where I’ve been and where I want to go.
You’re not behind. You’re not off-track. You’re evolving — and evolution is not a detour. It’s the work.
Next week, I’ll explore how this same process of reframing and reintegration plays out in organizations: how teams and leadership groups can move from clinging to old strategies to reimagining what’s possible based on current realities and collective wisdom.