Have you ever felt like you're supposed to have a master plan, but instead you're just... floating? The plan you once had doesn’t feel aligned, the passion has faded and you’re standing in the middle of a road, not sure which direction to go. That’s where I’ve been lately. In the space between what was and whatever comes next. It’s a strange place – quiet, confusing, sometimes freeing – but mostly, it’s made me realize something big:
I’m not starting over.
I’m building on everything I’ve already done.
For over a decade, I poured myself into growing my business. Starting a company at 23 isn’t for the weary – I dove head first into building a sustainable, inclusive (before those were buzz words) clothing brand with a mission to empower women. From fabric sourcing materials, securing local, slow production to photoshoots and building brand tone of voice to customer emails and website updates at 11pm – it was more than a job. It was my identity – partially because I named the business after myself – but mostly because I’m an all or nothing type of person. It was my proudest creation, my first child and my first real love. It shaped me, challenged me, and gave me a platform I could’ve only dreamed of in the beginning.
But even the best chapters come to an end. And when that chapter started to feel like a closed door, I kept knocking. Out of habit. Out of fear. Out of the belief that I had to keep being who I was, even if she didn’t quite fit anymore.
Then I paused. No big epiphany as to why. No new title. Just a quiet decision to listen to the part of me that was tired of the same cycle and ready to evolve.
And here’s what I’ve learned in that in-between space:
This isn’t the beginning.
It’s the continuation.
All of it – the lessons, the failures – oh boy, the failures – the creative wins, the burnout, the community I built – it’s not gone. It’s the foundation I get to build on now. And this next chapter? It’s more honest. More human. Less about proving something – no more girl boss energy – more about becoming something, becoming the evolution of me.
I don’t have a five-year plan. I barely have a five-week one. But I know this: I’m stepping into my second act. Not a rebrand. A reveal. Of the version of me that’s been quietly forming behind the scenes. I felt the tug to allow growth to take over – to create space just to be to honour myself for who I was and who I’m becoming – even if I don’t know exactly who she is yet. I just know, I can’t be one thing for the rest of my life, I can’t always be Mary of MARY YOUNG, founder, designer, leader, etc. More than ever, I’m excited to find out who I will become, one step at a time.
Maybe you’re in your own second act too. Maybe you’re shifting careers, moving cities, starting therapy, ending a relationship, getting married or becoming a parent, changing your mind, or just… pausing. If so – welcome. You’re not alone. You may feel lost, confused, isolated, dizzy even – but you are in good company, a place of exploration, building trust in yourself and allowing growth to direct you to whatever may be next.
You’re not starting over.
You’re building with better tools.
I’ve felt alone as I navigated these emotions, anxieties and struggles over the few months. So instead of navigating alone, I'll be sharing more about what this looks like for me in real time. Leading with vulnerability so we can find comfort in one another, the space to explore without answers and the community of support while we’re searching for what’s next. And if you know me, there’ll be no tidy bows, no ‘expert’ advice – just stories from me, my life and the in-between. If you're here for that, I’m really glad. If you want to explore more and dive deeper into these conversations, let’s explore together.
Thank you for reading this week’s newsletter. What’s shifting in your life right now? What does your second act look like?