Jet Lag And a Different Future

How A Quiet Moment in Los Angeles Changed Everything.

I remember unpacking boxes in LA.

Me in my garden in LA

Jet lagged. Slightly disoriented. Surrounded by my life in cardboard.

London (the city I’d always called home) felt very far away. The light was different. The air was different. Everything felt unfamiliar.

I’d left a solid career in the music industry. Despite a few pandemic tangents, it was a career that, from the outside, looked successful. Good roles. Big brands. Sales targets. Results delivered.

If you’d looked at my CV, you’d have assumed I was exactly where I was meant to be.

But standing there, slicing through packing tape in a new apartment thousands of miles from home, I felt something shift.

I didn’t want to go back.

Not to corporate life.

Not to another sales target strapped to my back.
Not to navigating egos and calling it “just how it is.”
Not to spending the next decade working twice as hard to be taken half as seriously.

For the first time in years, I had space. And in that space, a question surfaced:

If not that… then what?

What I realised was surprisingly simple.

I wanted impact.
Not numbers on a spreadsheet.
Actual impact.

I wanted to help women in music achieve their goals.

To back themselves properly.

To stop shrinking in rooms they absolutely belong in.

And if I’m very honest, I also wanted autonomy. I wanted to build something of my own. To choose how I worked. To decide what mattered.

Now I live in New York and coach women in music four days a week. Fridays are for meetings, or an art gallery, or bird watching in Central Park with binoculars I never imagined I’d own. Sometimes it’s a long, boozy lunch with a brilliant woman in music putting the world to rights.

I never thought my journey would take me from London, to LA, to New York.

But that day with the cardboard boxes was the real beginning.

I think about it often.

Because clarity doesn’t always arrive as a grand plan. Sometimes it arrives quietly - in jet lag, in silence, in space you didn’t know you needed.