Why my biggest career failure became my greatest professional victory.

Guitarist Joe Walsh once said something like, “There’s a philosopher who says, ‘As you live your life, it appears to be anarchy and chaos... and later, when you look back, it looks like a finely crafted novel.”

That hit home as I looked back at a career move I made about six years ago.

I left a secure—though low-paying—job to pursue a life coaching certification. I was so excited! I’d been listening to a “master coach” whose podcast was changing how I thought about everything. I wanted to help women improve their lives like she’d helped me.

So I took the leap. I plunked down $21,000 for training. I imagined a new future.

But the road to building a coaching business turned out to be a dumpster fire. 

Smoke and mirrors. No secure job, no ready-made clients. Just a lot of pressure to hustle and believe harder. After staying with the scammy life coach school for a few years, I decided I’d had enough.

Then came another “master coach.” A woman who promised to teach those of us who left the first school a better way of coaching and building a business.

She had the real answers. 

I wanted to believe. So I signed up for 18 more months of training. It cost more money, more time, and even more hope. 

And it ended worse than the first one. Another narcissistic, culty leader. More broken promises.

At that point, I’d spent four years and over $80,000 chasing a dream. And all I felt was despondent. I’d fallen for two coaching programs that turned out to be well-packaged schemes. I felt duped. Embarrassed. Foolish.

But now, a few years later, I see the path differently. Because at one retreat in Vegas, hosted by coach #2, I met my friend, Dory. 

And that one meeting led me to what I now love doing: helping leaders tell stories that connect to their team and spark change. That meeting led to me creating my own leadership development business, which is the best job I’ve ever had.

Even though what happened with my life coach training truly sucked, I wouldn’t trade it. Because those messy years—those expensive, confusing, heartbreaking years—were how I got here.

Sometimes that chaos is simply propelling you to the next thing. I heard someone in career services call it “jumping from one lily pad to another.” I love that idea. 

Some lily pads sink so you have to move on. Some are slippery. And some lead you someplace wonderful.

So if your path looks like a mess right now, try looking back with new eyes. What looks like a dumpster fire may be the beginning of something much better.