How letting go brought a life into focus

There are times in life when change doesn’t knock politely – it storms in and rearranges everything. For me, that moment came when I made the difficult but heartfelt decision to close my English institute. It wasn’t due to a lack of passion or ambition. Life was simply calling me elsewhere – to something deeper, more personal, and unexpectedly transformative.

A shift I didn’t plan

Becoming a full-time caregiver for my mother and my grandchildren wasn’t part of any business plan. I had spent years growing my institute, building a team, and investing in students’ futures. But then my mother’s health began to decline, and my grandchildren needed more day-to-day support.

It wasn’t a decision I made lightly. Stepping away from my business meant leaving behind structure, stability and a clear professional identity. It felt like walking into a fog. But underneath the uncertainty was something powerful: love. And the sense that this – being fully present for the people I care about – was the next right thing.

Transformation, not retirement

Closing my business wasn’t the end of my working life. It was a transformation. I didn’t stop working entirely. I shifted. I began offering lessons part-time – online and face-to-face – so I could remain flexible while still doing what I love. I now also work at a university part-time and with the British Council on days I’m not caregiving.

This blend of professional activity and caregiving gave me a new kind of rhythm – one based not on constant output, but on alignment. And something unexpected happened: new opportunities started coming to me.

Not one. Not two. Many.

They weren’t random. They were right. As though stepping into this new version of myself – open, grounded, intentional – had somehow cleared a path.

Listening inward

With more quiet time at home, I started listening – not just to my family, but to myself. What do I truly value? What work energises me? What am I ready to let go of?

I realised I had long defined success through activity and results: enrollments, expansion, productivity. But there was a different kind of success waiting to be embraced – the kind that comes from living in alignment with your values.

By creating space, I discovered that not everything needed to be planned or pushed. Some things unfold when you’re ready to receive them.

The power of presence

Caregiving isn’t easy. It can be isolating, emotionally taxing and invisible. But it has also been one of the most grounding and growth-filled experiences of my life. It taught me to slow down. To notice. To be here, now.

Being present with my mother in her vulnerable moments, and with my grandchildren during their formative years, reminded me that relationships are the true foundation of a meaningful life. That presence, not productivity, is what nourishes the soul.

It also sharpened my intuition. The more attuned I became to what my family needed, the more attuned I became to what I needed – and to which work opportunities felt aligned. When you move through life with that kind of clarity, the world responds differently.

Redefining success

We often talk about success in terms of career milestones or financial gain. And for many years, that was my framework too. But success can also look like this: preparing a lesson that inspires joy in students. Sitting quietly with your mother on a hard day. Watching your grandchildren thrive because they feel safe and supported.

It’s easy to overlook those moments because they don’t come with accolades or pay raises. But they’re meaningful. They’re powerful. And for me, they’ve come to represent a quieter, but more authentic form of success.

I didn’t lose myself when I closed my business. I found a new version of myself – one that is softer, stronger and more spacious. One that works part-time with purpose. One that supports her family not only with time and care, but with presence.

Opening the right doors

People often say, ‘When one door closes, another opens.’ But I think it’s more than that. Sometimes, you have to be the one to close the door. Not because you’ve failed, but because you’re ready to grow in a different direction.

For me, closing the door on my business opened up space for more meaningful connections, more intentional work, and a deeper understanding of what truly matters.

And the jobs – flexible, soul-nourishing, well-timed – keep showing up. Not because I’m chasing them, but because I’m finally living from a place of clarity.