One Year Later

Written By : Hannah Corbett

I got a text last night.

Just a simple, “How are you doing since the move?” from someone I haven’t talked to in a long time. And it caught me, because it came out of nowhere, but also right on time.

This morning, I remembered why the timing felt eerie. One year ago today, I walked into my office for what I didn’t know would be the very last time.

I didn’t plan for it to end that day. I woke up, got dressed, made a TikTok of my outfit like I had so many mornings before. But when I walked into the office, something shifted. I told my boss I wasn’t happy. I gave my two weeks. And just like that, I was told, “No need. Today can be your last.”

And just like that, it was over.

I didn’t even sit back down. I packed up my things, we hugged, and I walked out.

No next step, no plan B. Just me. Alone with the decision I had just made, and this strange, undeniable sense of peace.

I felt scared, but also free.

The thing is, when you leave something that was never meant for you, the world doesn’t collapse. It expands.

Looking back, it wasn’t just the job I was leaving behind. It was everything.

That version of me was shrinking. I had poured so much of myself into the people around me, especially ones I wasn’t growing with. I had friends, sure… but I had stopped feeling seen. If I had clung to the job, the place, the people, out of fear or loyalty or comfort, I’d still be in a body that didn’t feel like mine.  

I thought I was building a life. But really, I was maintaining a version of it I had outgrown a long time ago.

And yet, I kept showing up, until one day I couldn’t.

A year later, I’ve built something from scratch that I’m more proud of than anything else I’ve ever done. Havens wasn’t just a project. It was a lifeline. It gave me purpose when I didn’t know where else to be.

Through it, I’ve landed jobs that actually reflect who I am. I’ve sat across from people I used to admire through my phone screen, and now, I call them friends. I’ve built a life that finally feels like mine. And none of it would’ve happened if I had stayed where I was, if I had played it safe, held on tightly, or convinced myself that being “comfortable” was enough.

Sometimes the people and places that claim to support you are actually what’s keeping you stuck. Not because they’re cruel. But because you’re trying to grow, and they’re not moving.

So when I got that message last night, asking how I was doing… I almost didn’t know what to say.

Because how do you explain that a year ago, I was a shell of myself? And today, I feel alive again? I think about the past, memories, history.. They are like this anchor. Some people need that, something stable and sure. But to me, it was holding me back. And to move on, you have to actually jump out of the ship that's not moving, to become who you will be.

And I think that’s exactly what I did. I jumped. More scared and unsure than I’ve ever been, but I did.

The other day, me and my best friend were driving home from a dream day of hers, and I was catching up with her, talking about something so exciting for havens and she just started crying. Because both of us were living something only 13 year old versions of us would dream about.

So if you’re sitting in a life that no longer feels like yours...
If you’re wondering whether it's too late, or too risky, or too far gone...

Here’s your sign:
Do it. Walk away. Take the leap. 

Because what’s waiting for you on the other side isn’t just a new chapter.
It’s you.