How to Trust Yourself When the Plan Falls Apart
Recently, I had a powerful conversation with a former colleague. They were frustrated, disillusioned, and unsure of what to do next. The job they accepted with high hopes had turned into something very different—routine, transactional, and uninspiring. To make matters worse, they felt more like a taskmaster than a respected contributor. No vision, no voice, just constant deliverables with no direction.
The company? It was undergoing a revolving door of reorganizations. Leadership changes, shifting priorities, and a thick fog of uncertainty had everyone watching their backs.
That conversation hit home.
Not long ago, I was staring down the same kind of crossroads. Another reorg was underway—which wasn’t unusual—but this time, something felt off. My business unit was being moved under a completely new leadership team with a different agenda and no real communication about what the future looked like.
My role wasn’t technically at risk, but the silence said everything. The position I held had been created under a leader who might not even have a seat at the table in this next chapter. No answers, no clarity, and across the company, NDAs were flying, and lips were sealed.
I knew the signs.
And I knew I had a decision to make.
My plan—my very specific 3½-year glide path to retirement—was suddenly at risk. Like my colleague, I had every intention of wrapping up my corporate career on my own terms, in my own time. But now? That plan was looking shaky, and I wasn’t prepared yet to execute a backup.
Or so I thought.
See, when you’ve weathered a few storms, you start realizing—you’re more prepared than you give yourself credit for.
I sat with the big question:
Do I stay and ride it out, hoping things eventually settle?
Or do I take the lifeline the company was throwing and get out now?
They were offering early retirement packages to anyone who met the criteria. It wasn’t part of my plan, but it was an option—a real one.
It was also a cold reminder that we don’t own what we don’t control.
Job security? That’s a myth unless you’re signing the paychecks or your name is on the building.
I decided to walk away.
Not because it was easy. But because staying didn’t feel aligned.
I ran the numbers. I prayed on it. I had real, raw conversations with my trusted circle.
And most importantly, I checked in with myself.
The decision had to feel right in my spirit—not just on paper.
And it did.
That’s exactly what I told my colleague. And now I’m telling you.
When everything feels uncertain, you start asking yourself the hard questions:
Do I stay on this ship and see what’s on the other side of the storm?
Or do I grab the lifeline while it’s being offered and leave on my own terms?
On paper, the offer didn’t align with my original plan.
But life has a way of rearranging your timeline whether you’re ready or not.
So I sat down with it. I mean, really sat down.
Wrote it all out—pros, cons, fears, options.
I looked at what staying would realistically look like. Could I find another role within the company that I actually wanted to do? And if I did, how stable would it even be, knowing reorgs were now an annual tradition?
That’s what being at a crossroads forces you to do—envision every possible scenario, not from fear, but from clarity. You need to see the whole picture to make a move with intention.
And if you’re not careful, fear will start writing your story.
You’ll start to believe that what you’ve been doing is all you can do. That there’s nothing else out there for you.
But that’s just false evidence appearing to be real.
Fear, dressed up like fact.
We stay in that belief system until something cracks—until the job we trusted isn’t what we were promised, or we’re treated like a number instead of a person with value.
And that’s when the disillusionment kicks in.
But sometimes, that’s what you need to finally see things clearly.
What makes it harder is that corporate culture has changed. And not always for the better.
Transparency? That used to be something leaders at least pretended to value. Now? People are being handed NDAs like it’s candy at a parade. Even the most honest, well-meaning leaders are being silenced. They’re bound by contracts that keep them from saying the very things their teams need to hear.
No one’s talking.
No one’s telling the truth.
And folks are expected to just “trust the process”—when there’s no process to trust.
The way I see it, companies aren’t built to protect your peace—they’re built to protect themselves.
And when things get unstable, the truth is the first thing to disappear.
So if you’re sitting there waiting for clarity, for some big announcement to make it all make sense—stop. That day might never come.
You have to make peace with the fact that no one is coming to hand you a roadmap.
You’ve got to build your own.
I know it’s scary. I’ve been there.
Making a decision without knowing what’s on the other side… wondering how it’s all going to work out… questioning if you’re making the right move. That’s real. But when you’ve done all the thinking, all the planning, all the praying—and the plan still falls apart—you’re left with one thing:
Faith.
And yes, I’m going spiritual on you—because when your environment is shaking, and everything around you feels out of your control, you have to go inward. Be still. Ask the higher power you believe in and your own gut what’s next.
Know that you are more than your job title or someone’s org chart.
If this chapter is closing, that only means something new is waiting to be written.
Walk if you need to. Run if you’re ready. Just don’t stay stuck where you no longer belong.
Faith doesn’t always show you the whole road. But it will carry you to the next right step.
