Reinvention Without Permission | Volume 1, Edition 15

In this edition of Lead Anew: Insights & Growth, we’re talking about the courage to reinvent yourself without waiting for someone else’s green light. Too often, we hold back, hoping for approval or timing that never comes. The truth is, reinvention doesn’t require permission; it involves choice.

I used to think reinvention required an invitation.

A promotion, a new degree, a door swung wide by someone else’s approval. Something official that signaled, “Yes, you’re ready to step into the next version of yourself.”

But here’s the truth I eventually learned the long way: no one is coming to hand you a permission slip. Reinvention is not granted. It’s chosen.

For years I played the “waiting game.” I waited for the right timing. I waited for someone in leadership to notice the extra hours I was putting in. I waited for an email that would say, “We’ve been watching you, and we think you’re ready.”

And while I waited, life continued to move forward. My days were filled with work that looked good on paper but didn’t leave me feeling alive. I poured myself into teams, into goals, into the busyness that earned praise, but I ignored the quiet voice inside me asking, “Is this really the life you want?”

Here’s the hard part: sometimes waiting feels safe. It lets us believe things will eventually line up without us having to risk much. However, waiting for permission slowly drains the energy we need to actually make a change.

Reinvention is not something you receive when a new title appears on your badge. It isn’t the byproduct of an updated resume or a fresh LinkedIn headline. Reinvention is what happens when you decide the story you’ve been telling yourself no longer fits.

The story might sound like:

• “I’m too far in my career to pivot.”
• “I’ll upset people if I admit I want something different.”
• “What if I fail and it proves I wasn’t cut out for it?”

I’ve told myself all these stories. Each one kept me stuck.

But reinvention begins the moment you stop asking, “Am I allowed to change?” and start asking, “What do I want to create from here?”

Do you remember those slips of paper we had to bring to school, signed by a parent, to go on a field trip? That was about safety and accountability. As adults, we’ve somehow carried that idea into our careers. We wait for a leader, a mentor, or even society to “sign off” before we give ourselves permission to shift directions.

But here’s the difference: no one else is responsible for the journey you take next.

No supervisor, no industry trend, not even your well-meaning friends who tell you to stay where it’s comfortable. Reinvention is not about consensus. It’s about courage.

The only signature required is your own.

Midlife has a way of holding up a mirror and asking, “Is this it?”

Sometimes the reflection stings. We see the parts of ourselves we’ve muted to keep others comfortable. We see the roles we’ve outgrown, but we continue to play them because they feel stable. And we see the quiet longing for something different, something freer, something that feels like it was always waiting for us to claim.

Here’s what I’ve learned in this Second Season of leadership and life: reinvention is not betrayal of who you were. It is the fulfillment of who you were always becoming.

That truth takes away the guilt and replaces it with possibility.

Several years ago, I hit a point in my career where I had achieved the kind of stability many people hope for. Good job. Good paycheck. Good reputation.

But inside, I was restless. I knew there was something more aligned waiting beyond the walls of what I had built. I felt it every time I mentored someone and saw them light up. I felt it when I was invited to lead teams through change and realized the part I loved most wasn’t the spreadsheets or the strategy, but the people.

So, I started writing again. I began creating spaces where genuine conversations about leadership and growth could occur. I began to imagine a future where my experience and voice could serve differently.

No one gave me permission for that shift. No one said, “Yes, now you’re allowed to reimagine yourself as a coach, a writer, a builder of Second Seasons.”

I gave myself that permission. And once I did, the path began to appear.

Reinvention isn’t usually a single dramatic leap. More often, it’s a series of quiet, consistent choices that add up.

It looks like:

• Saying no to one thing so you can say yes to something truer.
• Carving out an hour a week to pursue a passion that keeps nudging you.
• Choosing to speak up with a new idea instead of holding back.
• Signing your own name at the bottom of that imaginary permission slip.

And yes, it can look like big shifts too: leaving a role, launching a business, returning to school, or rewriting your story out loud.

But it all begins with the decision that you don’t need someone else to tell you it’s time.

The risks of waiting? I’ve seen organizations lose brilliant talent because they couldn’t recognize value soon enough. And I’ve seen individuals lose years of potential joy because they kept waiting for a sign.

Here’s the truth: reinvention carries risk whether you choose it or not. If you resist it, the risk is stagnation. If you embrace it, the risk is uncertainty. But at least one of those risks leads to growth.

And I’d rather risk growth.

This week, I want to invite you to ask yourself:

• Where am I waiting for permission in my life right now?
• What’s the story I’ve been telling myself that no longer fits?
• What small choice could I make this week that would move me closer to the life I want to build next?

Remember, you don’t need a slip of paper to go on this field trip. Your life is yours to lead.

• Reinvention is not granted. It’s chosen.
• Midlife isn’t a deadline. It’s an opening.
• Waiting for permission is a slow drain on possibility.
• The only approval you need is your own.
• Small, consistent shifts add up to Second Season breakthroughs.

Reinvention without permission is not about rebellion. It’s about responsibility, the kind where you take ownership of your own growth, your own joy, and your own next chapter.

So, if you’ve been waiting for a sign, let this be it.

You’re allowed. In fact, you always were.

✨ Until next time, may you lead anew, with courage, clarity, and the freedom to write the story that feels true.

#LeadAnewWithKim #SoarWithPurpose #YourSecondSeasonRedefined #LeadAnewInsightsandGrowth

© 2025 Kimberly Weisner, All Rights Reserved