How to Stop Feeling Empty When You Have Everything

Last week, I told you about the December I finally stopped pretending everything was fine. The December I admitted "I can't do another year like this." The December I stopped letting fear make my decisions.

That was December 2020. I knew. I was done with my 31+ year career in finance and tech.

It took me two more years to actually leave.

And during those two years, and the months after I finally left in 2022, everyone kept asking the question I couldn't answer: "So what are you going to do?"

I had no idea.

After 33+ years of following a path that made sense, the promotions, the titles, the steady climb, I'd finally admitted that path wasn't mine. I'd done the hard work of confronting beliefs that no longer served me, healing wounds I didn't know I was carrying, releasing anger and grief I'd been holding for decades.

I knew what I didn't want. I was crystal clear on that.

But what I did want? I drew a complete blank.

Not just about my career. About everything.

What Comes After You Stop Pretending

Here's what nobody tells you about finally making the decision to change: The relief of admitting "I can't do this anymore" immediately crashes into the terror of "I have no idea what I want instead."

People expected me to have a plan. Hell, I expected me to have a plan.

"You must be so excited about what's next!"

"What are you going to do with all that freedom?"

"Have you figured out your next chapter?"

And I'd smile and give vague answers because the truth was too uncomfortable to admit:

I didn't know what I wanted my work to look like. I didn't know what I wanted my days to feel like. I didn't know what brought me joy outside of achievement because I'd stopped doing things for joy decades ago.

I knew how to optimize. I knew how to execute. I knew how to be who everyone needed me to be.

But want? I'd forgotten how to do that.

When the VP Drew the Same Blank

Years later, when I started working with women on Strategy Calls, I recognized that same look immediately.

A VP at a fintech company. Brilliant woman. Twenty years in finance. Flawless track record. The kind of person other people envy.

I asked her the question I ask everyone: "If you could wave a magic wand, what would your life look like? Both at work and outside of work. What would it feel like?"

She stared at me for a full thirty seconds.

Then she started crying.

"I don't know," she said. "I genuinely don't know. I know what I should want. I know what would make sense strategically. I know what would make people think I have it all figured out. But what I actually want? I draw a complete blank."

She wasn't being dramatic. She wasn't avoiding the question. She genuinely could not access the answer.

Because after two decades of being who everyone else needed her to be, the high performer at work, the dutiful daughter, the supportive partner, the responsible one who handles everything, she'd completely lost touch with her own desires.

Not just at work. Everywhere.

Just like I had.

You Haven't Lost Your Way. You Forgot How to Want

Here's what nobody tells you about feeling empty despite success: It's not about having the wrong things. It's about having stopped wanting things for yourself.

For 33+ years, I'd made every decision based on what was responsible, what was expected, what made sense. Every promotion I'd chased? Someone else decided that role mattered. Every weekend I'd spent working? Those obligations came from outside me. Every goal I'd hit? The market, my company, my family, they set the targets.

I got so good at being who everyone needed me to be that I stopped practicing the muscle of wanting things for myself.

When people asked "What do you want?" when I asked myself "What do I want?" there was just... static.

Not because I was lost. Because I'd forgotten how to want.

The Muscle That Atrophied

When you were younger, you knew how to want things.

You wanted to travel to places that excited you, not just places that looked good on Instagram. You wanted relationships that felt nourishing, not just ones that looked right on paper. You wanted work that mattered to you, not just work that impressed other people.

But then you learned that wanting things for yourself was selfish, impractical, naive.

So you got strategic. You optimized. You followed the path that made sense.

And every time you chose what was smart over what you wanted, that muscle got weaker.

By your mid-thirties, you'd gotten so good at not wanting that you convinced yourself you didn't need to want. Success was enough. Having it together was enough. Being the person everyone could count on was enough.

Except it wasn't. And now you're sitting here, successful on every metric that matters to everyone else, realizing you have no idea what matters to you.

It's Not Just Your Career. It's Your Whole Life

When I work with women on Strategy Calls, they usually start by talking about their career.

"I need to figure out my next move."

"I'm stuck and I don't know how to pivot."

"I need a new role, but I don't know what I want."

But when I ask that magic wand question, what would your whole life look like if you could design it? That's when the real issue surfaces.

It's not just that she doesn't know what she wants her career to look like. She doesn't know what kind of relationships actually nourish her, what she'd do with free time if she had it, what her body needs, what brings her joy outside of achievement, or who she is when she's not performing a role.

• "I want a career that doesn't consume me, but I don't know what that looks like."
• "I want relationships that feel easy, not like work, but I don't know how to create that."
• "I want to feel at home in my body again, but I've been ignoring it for so long I don't know what it needs."
• "I want time that's actually mine, but I don't even know what I'd do with it."
• "I want to feel like myself, but I'm not sure I remember who that is."

This isn't just about career clarity, Beautiful Soul. This is about life clarity.

This is about reconnecting with the woman who knows what she wants, at work, at home, in relationships, in her body, in her soul.

Why This Feels Like Failure (But Isn't)

I felt ashamed that I couldn't answer the question "What do you want?"

After 33+ years of building a successful career, of being the capable one, of having it together, I should have known what I wanted. Everyone expected me to have a plan. I expected myself to have a plan.

But I didn't. And that felt like failure.

Until I understood: Not knowing what you want isn't a personal failing. It's evidence that you've been living everyone else's version of your life so successfully that you genuinely lost touch with your own signal.

I wasn't broken. I wasn't confused. I wasn't behind.

I was just extremely well-trained at:

• Making decisions based on what's responsible, not what feels right
• Spending my energy on what's expected, not what lights me up
• Maintaining relationships because I should, not because they nourish me
• Doing what looks right from the outside while feeling empty on the inside

That VP on the Strategy Call felt the same shame. "I should know this," she said. "I'm 42 years old. I've built an entire career. I have a whole life. How do I not know what I want?"

The truth bomb she needed, the one I needed back in 2020, was this:

When the achievement stops feeling like enough, and you realize you don't have your own definition of what you want? That's not failure, Brave One. That's the beginning of getting honest.

The 2025 Layer: When Fear Makes It Worse

In 2025, admitting "I don't know what I want" feels terrifying. Because the economic uncertainty isn't theoretical anymore. The layoffs aren't happening to other people. The rising costs aren't just headlines; they're your monthly budget anxiety.

So when you sit down and try to figure out what you actually want, that voice of fear immediately jumps in: "You can't afford to want something different." "This isn't the time to get picky." "Be grateful for what you have."

But here's what I've learned after three decades in finance and tech, after surviving multiple recessions, after walking away from a 33+ year career during uncertain times:

Waiting for stability to figure out what you want is how you waste your entire life.

There will always be a reason to play it safe. There will always be economic uncertainty, family obligations, health scares, and other things that make this "not the right time" to get honest about what you actually want.

The women who wait for the right time never find it. They just wake up at 55 or 60, exhausted and resentful, wondering where their life went.

What "Wanting" Actually Looks Like (When You've Forgotten How)

So how do you start wanting again when you've spent decades training yourself not to?

You don't start with the big question: "What do I want my life to look like?"

That's too big. Too abstract. Too loaded with all the strategic thinking you've been trained to do.

You start smaller. You start with what your body already knows, but your brain keeps overriding.

What feels alive vs. what feels like performing?

Not "What should I want?" Not "What makes sense?" But literally: When do you feel most like yourself? When do you feel like you're performing a role?

At work, this might be: That morning you mentored someone through a complex problem and felt energized, not drained.

At home, this might be: That evening you canceled plans and read a book instead of forcing yourself to be social, and felt relief, not guilt.

Those moments when you feel alive? That's your signal. The one you've been trained to ignore in favor of what's "appropriate" or "responsible."

What do you do when no one's watching?

What do you read about when you're procrastinating? What conversations do you get lost in? What problems do you solve just because they're interesting, not because they're on your KPIs?

Who do you feel most yourself around, and what does that tell you about the relationships that actually nourish you versus the ones you're maintaining out of obligation?

Those aren't distractions, Brave Soul. Those are breadcrumbs back to what you actually care about.

What did you want before you learned to be strategic?

Before you knew what was "realistic" or "practical" or "respectable", what excited you?

What did you do for pure joy before you learned that everything needed to serve a purpose?

I'm not saying go be the astronaut you wanted to be at eight or resurrect the hobby you gave up at twenty-five.

I'm saying: What was the quality of those desires? Adventure? Freedom? Creativity? Deep connection? Making an impact?

Because that quality, that's still you. It just got buried under decades of being told to want the corner office, the perfect relationship, the impressive life instead.

What December Is Really Asking You

December isn't when you figure out what you want. December is when you admit how long you've been ignoring the question.

Because here's what happens if you go into January without addressing this:

You'll set career goals that sound impressive but feel hollow. You'll maintain relationships that look right but feel draining. You'll keep optimizing your entire life for other people's approval while wondering why you still feel empty.

And next December? You'll be right back here. Same exhaustion. Same resentment. Same "I don't know what I want" that you'll continue ignoring until it's too late.

You don't need permission to want something different.

You need permission to not know yet.

Permission to sit with "I don't know what I want" without immediately trying to fix it, strategize it, or talk yourself out of it.

Permission to admit that two decades of being who everyone needed you to be left you disconnected from your own desires. And that reconnecting takes time.

Permission to start with small signals, what feels alive, what feels deadening, instead of demanding you figure out your entire next chapter by January 1st.

The woman who can't answer "What do you want?" isn't lost.

She's just been following everyone else's directions for so long that she forgot she was allowed to choose her own destination.

What This Actually Looks Like in Practice

Reconnecting with what you want doesn't look like a vision board or a five-year plan.

It looks like this:

At work: Noticing when your energy lifts vs. when it drains, and trusting that signal instead of dismissing it as "unprofessional."

At home: Saying no to obligations that look right on paper but feel deadening, even when you can't articulate why yet.

In relationships: Experimenting with honesty instead of performance, saying what you actually think instead of what keeps the peace.

With your time: Trying things just because they sound interesting, not because they're productive or serve a purpose.

In your body: Listening to what it's actually telling you instead of overriding its signals with what you think you "should" do.

This isn't sexy. It's not a breakthrough moment you can post on LinkedIn.

But it's how you rebuild the muscle of wanting when you've spent decades training yourself not to.

The Cost of Continuing to Ignore This

If you go back in January without starting this work, here's what happens:

You'll keep achieving at work. You'll keep maintaining the right relationships. You'll keep looking like you have it all together.

And you'll keep feeling empty.

Because no amount of external success can fill the void of not knowing what you actually want your life to feel like.

I know. I spent 33+ years proving that.

The year I finally left wasn't the year I had perfect clarity about what came next. It was the year I admitted I'd been living everyone else's version of my life for so long that I'd forgotten I was allowed to have my own.

That admission, that honesty about how disconnected I'd become from my own desires, was more valuable than any strategic plan I could've made.

Because reconnecting with what you want? That's the work. That's where the transformation happens.

The Question You Can't Ignore Anymore

You don't have to know what you want by January.

But you do need to stop pretending you don't need to know.

You do need to admit that living everyone else's definition of success, at work, at home, in every area of your life, isn't sustainable.

You do need to start paying attention to the signals your body's been sending you for years: what feels alive, what feels deadening, what makes you feel like yourself vs. what makes you feel like you're performing.

Because the woman who spends her entire life being who everyone else needs her to be doesn't end up fulfilled.

She ends up resentful.

And the only thing worse than not knowing what you want is waking up at 55 realizing you spent your whole life wanting the wrong things, or not letting yourself want at all.

Journal Prompt:

Close your eyes and ask yourself: If you could wave a magic wand and design your life, both at work and outside of work, what would it feel like? Not look like. Feel like.

Don't worry if the answer isn't clear yet. Just notice what comes up. And more importantly, notice what you immediately dismiss as "impractical" or "selfish" or "unrealistic."

Because that dismissal? That's the pattern that got you here.

What Comes Next:

If you're ending 2025 realizing you've spent years being who everyone else needed you to be, at work, at home, in every role you play, and you're ready to start reconnecting with what you actually want before you waste 2026 on more of the same, let's talk.

Book a Strategy Call and let's start rebuilding that muscle of wanting. Not with vision boards or five-year plans, but with honest questions about what actually feels alive to you, in your career, your relationships, your life.

Because the woman who forgot how to want things? She deserves to remember who she is when she's not performing for anyone else.

Related Reading:

When Something Feels Off: The December Decision You're Avoiding

The Identity Shift That Changes Everything

Why Am I Stuck in My Career? The Real Reason Your Success Strategies Stopped Working