I know change. From seismic personal transformation to the never-ending transitions of my expat life, I’ve experienced plenty. And I know that change — even the good kind — can often be hard and sometimes scary.

(That’s why I became a coach.)

Would you believe me if I told you that I took a picture at the exact moment my life as I know it started?

It’s true; it hangs on my office wall.

On Friday, June 9th, 2017, I snapped a picture out the window of the Heathrow Express. In it, time stands still. The clock on the platform of London Paddington reads half-past nine. Exactly two minutes before the train will pull away from the station.

What you can’t see is the woman behind the camera: I am 34 years old. And I’ve just realized that I have a big decision to make. I can go back home to my good-on-paper life or I can listen to the small voice inside of me saying that there’s something bigger and better waiting for me if I only have the courage to say “yes.”

And you certainly can’t see what got me there: 23 days earlier, I had walked into the E.R. with critically-high blood pressure and all the signs of burnout. As I told the doctor assigned to my case, it wasn’t that I had thoughts of self-harm or wanted to die. I didn’t even want to throw away my newly-found sobriety. I just couldn’t see how I could keep going on as I had been. 

I was worn down. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually. It felt like the only things keeping me together were venti mocha mistos from Starbucks, MAC lipgloss, and the slowly fading hope that it’d get better. Somehow.

They discharged me that night around 2 am with a referral for continued mental health care and best wishes.

I took one day off before returning to work. It didn’t feel like I could take any more.

I spent the next weeks tender but psyching myself up for what was probably the biggest work meetings I had ever had: I’d be leading a team of design agency colleagues to London. 

The trip came and we touched down at Heathrow on Saturday, June 3rd. That very same evening, hell broke loose in Borough Market. And while we had all been safely back in our hotel rooms by the time the terrorists made their attack, I was shaken.

As much as I spent the next week trying to focus on business metrics and successfully delivering for my clients, I couldn’t help but question what the point of it all was. And as thrilling as it was to be at a seriously high point in my career, I knew something was missing.

So that Friday morning – after my colleagues and I had rushed from Kings Cross to Paddington and tumbled into our seats on the train taking us to our flight back home to Minneapolis – I slipped in my earbuds and looked out the window. It would have been easy to ignore the small voice inside of me but I was finally ready to listen.

I had come to a jumping off point: I could continue on a path that now felt like it would become a literal dead end or I could choose life.

As the doors closed, I snapped that picture before leaning back into my headrest. The wheels started turning and the train picked up speed while Florence + The Machine crooned into my ears “I’m gonna be free and I’m gonna be fine.” In that moment, I really believed it.

But it turned out to not be that simple or easy.

I had decided to leave my job and to focus on finding a life that would make me feel truly alive. But I still had a long way to go. 

It took me another two months to quit and many more months after that to really believe that I was running to something and not from something. I spent time in therapy and I worked with a career coach but the journey was still incredibly lonely.

I wish I’d had somebody beside me telling me that they had gotten unstuck too. To show me that there’s a way to get through the seemingly contradictory grief and joy of transition and transformation. To celebrate as I did make it through.

That’s why I eventually ended up training to become a coach. Because I wanted women to feel supported and know that they could tap into their own strength, courage, and creativity and they moved through transitions and transformations of their own.

Make Life Less Difficult Podcast: “Stories Saved Me. (Episode 54)” and “Authenticity, Transitions, and Recovery (Episode 86)” (2022)
Interviews with fellow coach and Foreign Service spouse Lisa Hope Tilstra.

You Can Make Friends: Episode 1. (2022)
An interview with Louisa Liska about making friends in adulthood.

The Unruffled Podcast: Episode 109 on Soundcloud. (2019)
An interview with Tammi Salas and Sondra Primeaux on creativity, recovery, and the intersection of the two.

An Unexpected Expat (2018 - present)
My musings on adventures & everyday life as a U.S. Foreign Service trailing spouse and mother of a young child living abroad.

THE OFFICIAL BIO

Emily Cornell is a storyteller, strategist, and coach. She helps Millennial and Gen X women tap into their courage, creativity, and strength during transitions (external change) and transformations (internal change).

Blending a co-creative and intuitive approach along with skills and knowledge gained from more than 15 years working in and for advertising/marketing agencies, startups, and nonprofits, Emily stays deeply rooted in strategic thinking. She holds a B.A. in English from the University of Colorado at Boulder, earned a Certified Professional Coach (CPC) certification through Int’l Coach Academy and has trained in trauma-informed space holding. She is also an International Coaching Federation Associate Certified Coach (ACC) and is committed to upholding the highest standards of the profession.

Emily has American Midwest roots and leads a globally-mobile life. Currently residing in New Delhi, she has also recently called Brussels and Santo Domingo home.

Her virtual practice supports her clients wherever they are in the world from wherever she is.