Four months ago today, I closed my corporate computer for the last time. After 14 years of working for someone else, basically my entire adult life since graduating from college, I was officially on my own. I felt relieved. I felt excited. And it also felt really freaking weird.

For 14 years, I knew what Monday looked like. I knew what was expected of me, where my paycheck was coming from, and generally what the next week, month, and year were supposed to look like. Then suddenly, I could do whatever the heck I wanted. Which sounds AMAZING… until you’re sitting there thinking, Wait. What day is it? What am I supposed to be doing today? And how the heck is it already September?!

The Structure Wasn’t the Problem

One of the biggest things I’ve learned about myself over these four months is that the structure wasn’t the problem. Who owned the structure was. Turns out, I actually like structure. I like knowing what I’m working toward, having things on my calendar, going places, meeting people, and working hard. The answer wasn’t a life without structure. What I needed was the freedom to create a structure around the life, work, and mission that mattered to me.

And the more I’ve thought about that, the more I’ve realized how closely it connects to the work I’m doing now.

I spent so much of my childhood trying to learn inside a box that wasn’t built for the way my brain worked. I literally wrote a book about it. About understanding ourselves, celebrating what makes us different, finding our voices, advocating for what we need, and breaking down the idea that there’s one “normal” way we’re all supposed to learn, work, think, or live.

Somewhere along the way, I realized I had created an adult life where part of me was still living inside a box. Not because those 14 years were bad. I don’t regret them. They gave me incredible relationships, lifelong friends, mentors, experiences, skills, and lessons that I carry with me every single day. But deep down, I knew there was more for me to do.

So four months ago, I finally trusted that feeling.

And I Kicked the Dang Wall Down

The part of me that dreamed about Different Ability®, speaking, writing, advocacy, storytelling, and making a difference wasn’t something I suddenly discovered when I left corporate. She had been there for YEARS, and I knew I was pushing her aside. That’s the part that hurt. The things that mattered most deeply to me were constantly getting my leftover time, leftover energy, and leftover brain space.

Heck, I wrote my first book on nights and weekends for eight months. And that doesn’t include the rest of the nearly two-year process, the editing, audiobook recording, publishing, and the approximately 500,000 other things that apparently come with writing a dang book. I always found the time because it mattered that much to me, but I also knew something eventually had to change.

Making Room for What Matters

Now, I have room. Room in my calendar, room in my brain, room to dream, and maybe most importantly, room to actually execute those dreams. Some of those dreams have been inside me for years. Others I didn’t even know existed four months ago.

I’ve walked into bookstores, coffee shops, boutiques, and libraries and introduced myself and my book to complete strangers. Funny enough, it reminds me of my early days in sales. Walking through a door, starting a conversation, learning about someone, and building a relationship. Except now I’m basically cold calling for my mission, and I freaking LOVE it.

I’ve said yes to long drives and conversations I probably wouldn’t have made room for before, and one of those Sundays planted the seed for something I never saw coming. I’ve also been able to work between Wisconsin and Colorado without asking permission to go anywhere or submitting a request to take time off. I just… go. And work from wherever life takes us.

Even Sundays Feel Different

But one of the biggest changes might actually be Sundays.

My husband told me recently that one of the biggest differences he’s noticed in me is my stress level. Before I left corporate, I did NOT want to talk about the upcoming week on Sundays. It had taken me years to get good at shutting my work brain off over the weekend, so if he started asking what I had going on the next week, I’d get cranky and tell him, “Don’t talk to me about my week. I don’t want to think about it.” I didn’t want Monday creeping into the little bit of weekend I had left.

Now, my husband and I literally have a meeting every Sunday morning specifically to talk about our week. We figure out what we’ve both got going on, who’s got Gauge, where we need to be, what our businesses need from us, and where we need to help each other. He has his business, I have mine, and now we have one we’re building together. I’m incredibly grateful for the way we’ve supported each other through different seasons while creating a life that gives both of us room to go after what matters to us.

And I actually look forward to Sundays now. Heck, I’m writing this on a Sunday, excited about tomorrow.

I traded knowing exactly what next week looked like and dreading it for not always knowing what tomorrow looks like… and being excited to find out.

That Doesn’t Mean I Have It Figured Out

That doesn’t mean every day is some magical entrepreneurial dream. HAHAHAHA. No. I’m learning patience, which, if you know me, you know is going VERY well. I’m learning to trust that building something takes time. And yes, self-doubt still shows up.

I always describe it like having the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other, arguing with each other. Every once in a while that little devil gets loud: You can’t do this. You’re crazy. What the heck are you doing? And I have to flick that sucker right off my shoulder and remind myself, “Ummm… you’re wrong. I CAN do this. I AM doing this. So freaking watch me.”

Because underneath those moments, I know what I’m capable of. I know there is more for me to do. And for the first time, the purpose I’ve felt deep inside me for years isn’t being pushed aside until I finish everything else. I’m paying attention to it. I’m fanning that flame every single day.

I feel lighter. My husband sees it too. He told me I seem happier, and I am. Not because I have everything figured out. Oh my gosh, I do not! But I don’t feel like I’m living two different lives anymore.

There was never actually a corporate Katey and a Different Ability® Katey. It was always me. But for a long time, one part of me had to wait while I handled everything the other part of my life required. Now all of me gets to exist in the same life.

Four Months Later

Maybe that’s why one of my very first experiences after leaving corporate hit me so hard. The week after I left, right before heading to Colorado, I went back to my hometown school to hand deliver books that my teacher, Mrs. D, purchased for her classroom. Yes, I write about her in my book. While I was there, I had the opportunity to speak to her students about disabilities, advocacy, confidence, and embracing who they are.

Afterward, I got in my car and cried as I drove to my parents’ house. Not because something was wrong, but because something felt so incredibly right.

And here’s the wild part. Tomorrow morning, four months later and right before we head back to Colorado, I’m going back to that exact same school, with that exact same teacher, to talk to this year’s class.

Four months isn’t very long, and I’m nowhere near having this all figured out. And let’s be real, I probably never will. But I’m incredibly grateful that I have the opportunity to figure it out as I go. I’m grateful I finally listened to that voice deep inside me that kept saying, there’s more for you to do. I’m grateful I trusted myself enough to kick the wall down. And I’m really freaking excited to see what I build on the other side of it.

Maybe September 13, 2027 Katey will come back and read this. I hope she smiles. I hope she’s proud of the woman who wrote it.

And knowing her, she’ll probably shake her head and say, “Dangit girl… you should’ve done this sooner.”

And I hope she’s right.