Building a Career That Actually Fits Your Life
A few weeks ago, I returned to Cal Poly to speak on a panel about my professional journey. As I walked onto Cal Poly campus, I was flooded with the sensory memories of my time as a student there. Parking in the structure, walking past the PAC, through the UU. The smells of the eucalyptus trees and foliage. The feeling of slight panic trying to find the building and classroom. Walking across Dexter Lawn and arriving warm, slightly out of breath, and with the familiar anxious feeling of rushing to class. I typically don’t love speaking in front of big groups, but speaking about my own personal journey feels different, it's mine and I am for sure the expert on the twists and turns of my path to my current career. The professor told the panelists that there are many graduating seniors in the class, curious about how life unfolds after wearing the cap and gown, anticipating big life decisions and changes and some fear about the current job market and state of the world.
It was such a flashback, both the sensory experience of campus and relating to that feeling of pending change, growing up and entering the “adult” world. A real full circle moment for me. I was struck by how similar the other panelists described the indirect paths they traveled to their current positions, following opportunities, exploring paths they didn't anticipate taking and “going with the flow.”
The panel covered everything from career paths and salary negotiation to professional skills, work/life balance, and advice for students entering the workforce. As I answered the questions, I found myself thinking about how much growth and change can happen between sitting in a classroom as a student and eventually returning years later to speak about your career and life path. There was something meaningful and grounding about being back in that environment. I think many students feel pressure to choose the “right” career path quickly — often based on productivity, status, or financial stability alone. While those things can matter, I’ve come to believe that meaningful work is also deeply connected to nervous system health, relationships, creativity, values, and the kind of life you want to build overall.
Growing up in Wyoming, dancing from a young age, and later studying Psychology and Dance at Cal Poly (Yay, Orchesis!) all shaped the way I came to understand people, movement, and the body. After graduation, I moved to the Bay Area without a clear roadmap for what a psychology degree might lead to. I worked a variety of odd jobs, explored different opportunities, and eventually pursued an MA in Somatic Counseling Psychology from California Institute of Integral Studies. My career path since then has included community mental health, nonprofit work, recovery homes, schools, grief support settings, and now private practice. Looking back, I can see that the path was much less linear than I expected when I was younger, but each experience helped shape the therapist and person I am today and led me toward a version of therapy practice that fits my life.
One thing I appreciate now is having a work/life balance that allows space for both family and meaningful work. A typical day involves mornings with my family, then afternoons sitting with clients through vulnerable experiences, supporting people in understanding patterns that may contribute to overwhelm or disconnection, and helping clients build greater grounding, emotional awareness, and resilience.
One of the most rewarding parts of my work is witnessing people reconnect with themselves in ways that feel more authentic, compassionate, and grounded. The short and long-term relationships I’ve developed with clients are rich, meaningful, and professional. At the same time, this work can also be emotionally demanding. I think helping professions require us to pay particular attention to our own nervous systems and wellbeing. For me, this means I try hard to balance work and self-care: yoga, hiking, nature, and getting back into ballet.
Beyond academic knowledge, I would encourage students to develop emotional awareness, communication skills, adaptability, and self-reflection. Learning how to tolerate uncertainty, navigate relationships, and stay connected to yourself under stress are incredibly valuable skills in almost any profession. I also think real-world experiences matter deeply — internships, volunteer work, mentorship, community involvement, networking, and opportunities that help you better understand both yourself and others.
During the panel discussion, one theme that stood out to me was the idea that careers are not only about job titles or salaries, but also about the kind of life you want to build overall. I strongly agree with that perspective. A career impacts not only finances, but also relationships, creativity, stress levels, energy, mental health, and sense of meaning. Panelists discussed how to incorporate partners, children, hobbies, and friendships into life and that in later parts of our careers, we’ve been able to carve more space for those things than in earlier parts.
Many people become disconnected from themselves trying to meet external expectations of success. I think it’s important to ask not only, “What do I want to do?” but also, “How do I want my life to feel?”
Self-advocacy has absolutely played a role in my career, though it’s something I’ve continued learning over time. In helping professions especially, many people are socialized to prioritize others’ needs while minimizing their own. Learning to advocate for boundaries, compensation, workload, support, and alignment with my values has been an important part of both personal and professional growth. I think self-advocacy is deeply connected to self-worth and nervous system safety.
If I could offer one piece of advice to current college students, it would be to stay curious and allow your path to evolve. Many people feel pressure to have everything figured out early, but most careers unfold gradually and circuitously through experiences, relationships, and opportunities you often cannot predict ahead of time. Some of the most meaningful opportunities in my life came from paying attention to what genuinely felt meaningful and aligned rather than what simply looked successful externally.
As I walked back across campus after the panel, I found myself thinking about the version of me who once rushed across those same pathways worried about choosing the "right" future. If I could tell her one thing, it would be this: your path doesn't need to be perfectly planned to be meaningful. Stay curious, pay attention to what feels alive, and trust that much of the unfolding happens one step at a time. It felt meaningful to return years later, not because I had found the "right" path, but because I had learned to trust the unfolding of it.