She sat across from me and said, almost apologetically, that she felt frustrated with her life and career. Not in a dramatic way, she added quickly. Nothing was "wrong.” Her job was stable, she was good at what she did, people relied on her. And that’s exactly what made the feeling so hard to explain. Everything looked fine, yet something inside her felt quietly stagnant.
As she spoke, I could hear the familiar tension so many professionals carry. The days were full, her calendar packed, her performance solid. But in the spaces between meetings, a question kept surfacing. Is this all there is? Not because she wanted more status or validation, but because the work no longer stretched her. The curiosity that once drove her had dulled, replaced by efficiency and routine.
When I shared how common this experience is, she looked relieved. Statistically, most people will change roles more than a dozen times in their careers, yet the majority report feeling disengaged at work. Many aren’t burnt out or unhappy enough to leave. They’re simply stuck in an in-between phase, still performing, still achieving, but no longer evolving. Hearing that helped her stop turning the frustration inward.
What she struggled with most was the self-doubt. She wondered if she was being ungrateful, if she should just push through, if something was wrong with her ambition. She compared herself to others who seemed to be moving forward with ease and assumed she was the one falling behind. That quiet comparison, more than the job itself, was draining her.
We reframed the feeling together. Stagnation, I explained, is rarely a sign of failure. More often, it’s a signal of growth waiting for direction. It shows up when someone has outgrown an old identity or chapter but hasn’t yet given themselves permission to imagine what comes next. Growth doesn’t always arrive as clarity or excitement. Sometimes it arrives as restlessness and frustration first.
By the end of the session, nothing about her life had changed externally. But internally, something shifted. The question was no longer "What’s wrong with me?” but "What is this phase asking of me?”And that shift alone created space for momentum to return.
If you’ve ever felt this quiet kind of stuck, you’re not alone. And often, it’s not a sign to endure longer, but an invitation to pause, reflect, and choose more intentionally.
If this story feels familiar, it may be worth a conversation. I offer short discovery calls for people who feel stuck in that quiet in-between and want clarity on what comes next. You don’t need to have answers yet, just a willingness to explore them.
Book a call with me and let’s see what this phase is asking of you.
