The Power of The Void

I was sitting on my sofa one night in London in 2009, watching Muriel’s Wedding—set in Australia—when a single thought rose up louder than the rest:

“I can’t do another winter here.”

I had arguably the best job in advertising globally—launching digital ad content at the coolest fashion magazine of the day. On paper, I was thriving. Free rein to build an industry that was still embryonic. Pushing the boundaries of creativity and tech. Endless posh lunches at London’s top restaurants. All the press day invites you could ever ask for. Viewing fashion collections before they hit the runways. Gifted the latest products to the point I had to give them away. Parties - oh the parties!

But behind the scenes, it wasn’t quite so glossy.

I’d been fighting invisible battles. The fiercest weren’t with competitors in the market, but with colleagues whose fear of change drove them to undercut, undermine, and, in one case, set me up in a legal situation that left me in tears for days. It was her word against mine. And they believed her.

Eventually, I was “pardoned.” The truth quietly came out. But it didn’t matter. The damage was done. My trust had cracks running through it. And I was left questioning why I was staying somewhere that was slowly draining the colour from my days.

So the next morning, post-Muriel, I handed in my notice.

Within hours, I was summoned to HR.

The Head of HR looked at me over her glasses and asked the question any corporate lifer knows:

“Why are you leaving so suddenly?”

I could have told her about the betrayals. The manipulations. The maniac boss.

Instead, I told her another truth.

Earlier that week, I’d been crammed on the tube on my way to the office on a hot summer day, - it was the tight black dress and heels era complete with heavy laptop bag and other peoples armpits in my face. Outside the window, I’d spotted a woman about my age. She was floating along in a loose summer dress and flat sandals, her hair billowing, carrying nothing but a glow on her skin.

And I thought:

“I want to be like her.”

That’s why I left.

I bought a one-way ticket to Australia. I arrived knowing no one, with nothing lined up. But I knew I had everything I needed to build something bigger, brighter, and more true.

I was offered, straight off the bat, a higher position—this time at the ultimate fashion magazine brand. My ‘big boss’ was one of the biggest names on the planet. I’d arrived!

It wasn’t all roses, but it was an evolution that expanded my vessel and bolstered my reputation and my ability to move on whenever and wherever.

Those who tried to sabotage me stayed where they were, too frightened to move. To challenge themselves. They continued to play the same hand in the same place.

But I moved.

And my life became wider, warmer, and infinitely freer.

Sometimes the bravest thing you’ll ever do is admit you want something different. Even if it’s as simple, and as profound, as wanting to feel the sun on your skin.

Oh, and the void I created with faith in the universe and belief in myself - that was all it took.