You Already Know What You Want
Why the wisest thing to do after redundancy is stop. And what fear has to do with it.
The house is quiet except for the hum of the coffee machine. You wait for it to finish and notice the mid-morning light pouring through the window. It's gorgeous. You never used to see this light — you were always at the office by now. Or stuck in your third meeting if you were working from home. You sit down at the dining table that's become your desk, open your laptop, and log into LinkedIn.
A month ago, you were made redundant. Or maybe your company is going through yet another reorganization and you know your role is at risk. You think: "This is my chance. I can finally find a job I actually like."
You scroll through the job listings, looking for something that excites you, something that gives you energy. Not like the last 10 roles you applied to — the ones where you secretly hoped they wouldn't call you back.
But still nothing you see feels worth the effort of once again waking up early and getting dressed up for. Nothing worth skipping the late morning yoga class you’ve started attending since gardening leave. Instead, you feel your stomach contracting, you start breathing faster. You want to slam the laptop shut and run away.
Except you can't. You have a mortgage, kids, or simply too many responsibilities.
So the next morning, you wake up, you make yourself a cup of coffee and you go again. Maybe today it'll be different.
But again, the thought of doing any of the roles you see makes you feel sick.
And slowly, in between the frustration and the panic, a thought arises:
"What if there are no other options?"
Sounds Familiar?
You've tried to fix this before.
Remember when you thought a more strategic role was going to save you, so you asked to switch? But once you were there, you missed the action, the pace of executional work. The rewarding feeling of seeing the result of your hard work in the market. Or maybe you changed company because you were done with the politics — only to find that, after a short honeymoon period, things felt exactly the same in the new one.
Every time, you had hoped it would be different. That finally, it would feel right.
But if you've read this far in this piece, I'm guessing it probably it wasn't. And now you realize:
I have been here before.
But this time, you can't let go of the feeling that maybe it's not about the job. Maybe it’s about you.
And this, my dear, is far scarier than not finding a job you like.
Because it's about your patterns, not the outside world.
And because you're not sure how one can change a pattern, you do the only thing that seems to make sense: you search again. So you scroll through more listings, send more applications, you take coffees with people who seem to have found their answers — hoping they would have some for you.
But the harder you look out there, the harder you try to think your way through this, the more lost you feel.
What if the answer was never out there?
What if the problem, amongst all these boring, itchy jobs staring you in the face… is that you've ultimately stopped being able to hear yourself?
Because you do already know what you want, in fact.
It’s just that you need to learn how to hear yourself again — and find the tools to walk the path.
Getting Lost.
How did you get lost in the woods? What happened in the last 10-20 years that made you forget how to listen to what you really want? As a child, you knew. You knew what you liked!
The recipe is pretty simple: add a cup of fear — fear of financial instability, fear of being judged, fear of making the wrong choice. Blend with a litre of conditioning — from your parents, your teachers, the shiny externally successful stories you see on Instagram. And add a sprinkle of beliefs you never stop for a moment to question — that you are not allowed to make mistakes, that others know best, that the Murphy's Law is real.
Then you have it.
I know this, because I too was a MasterChef of this recipe.
Twice, in fact, I tried to break free from a life that didn't fit. I left Italy at nineteen with a one-way ticket and a hunger to find my own path. But I felt lonely and started to worry: what if I can't support myself? What if I fail? So I went back to finish an engineering degree I picked simply because it supposedly meant a safe job. Two years later, I tried again — left for New Zealand with the same hunger, but unfortunately, the same fears too. Once again, I didn't know what I wanted — I just knew what I didn't. Both times I came back feeling not just lost, but like a failure.
So I gave up trying to find my own path.
I joined the road that everyone else seemed to be walking. I got a master's degree, landed a job, and started climbing the ladder. I spent a decade doing what looked right — getting promotions, fitting in, filling my calendar so I didn't have to feel the emptiness underneath.
I lied to others, but especially to myself. About what I cared, needed. About what I actually wanted from my life.
And in 2022, it all collapsed: a breakup I didn't see coming, my mother's cancer diagnosis, and an exhaustion that made me fear for my mental health.
I then had to admit: I didn't know how to do this thing called Life.
For the first time, I stopped running. I stopped trying to figure it out. I raised my hands and surrendered.
And that's when I finally started hearing myself again.
And through a series of consistent, deliberate choices — based on trust, patience, and following what felt right even when it scared me — I moved through my own redundancy and started creating a fulfilling life aligned with who I am, really.
That journey — from lost to listening — is why I do what I do now. And why I created my programme, The Journey.
And I sense you might be exactly where I was. Knowing something has to change, but not knowing how to go about it. Afraid that if you stop searching, applying for jobs, you'll lose time.
But how can you get what you want if you don't stop to find out what that is? Because if you're anything like I was, you know exactly what you don't want — all the things that don't work — but you have no idea what you actually want.
Why Now?
You might be tempted to think: "I'll figure this out later. I just need to find a decent job first, get stable, then I'll have time to reflect."
The challenge is that this phase you, as well as thousands of other women, are going through isn't a one-off. It's just one of the first waves.
In 2025, Dutch companies announced 42% more reorganizations than the year before. The UWV received 355 notifications — the highest in a decade. I was part of the 2024 layoffs myself.
And it's not just reorganizations. AI is reshaping the job market faster than anyone predicted.
By 2030, up to 14% of employees globally may need to switch careers entirely. And 41% of employers already plan to reduce their workforce in the next five years.
So you have a choice.
You can keep applying for the same stale roles, hope this time it'll feel different, and find yourself back right here soon. A couple of years older, more exhausted, more drained.
Or you can use this moment to stop, get clear on what you actually want — and intentionally choose a path that feels right.
The research is clear: more than 95% of people who make an intentional career change after redundancy report being happy in their new role a year later. Not because they left corporate or stayed. Because they chose deliberately.
This moment — as scary as it feels — could be the best thing that ever happened to you.
But only if you know how to get the best out of it.
Time To Do Things Differently.
Imagine you're lost in the woods. It's dark, the fog is thick, and you can't see the path forward.
What do you do?
You stop. You pause, take a deep breath, and let yourself calm down. You allow the fog to lift before taking the next step.
But when we're lost in life, most of us do the opposite.
We keep moving. We scroll, we apply, we take coffees, we ask for advice — hoping that by chance or luck, we'll stumble onto the right path. And the whole time, we feel anxious, stressed, and full of doubt.
What if we approached career change the same way we'd approach being lost in the woods?
This is the foundation of my STOP-LOOK-GO approach.
STOP. First, you learn to recognize the feeling of being lost — because you can't find your own path until you acknowledge where you are. You'll practice how to stay grounded when the fog is thick — and practical tools to lift it.
LOOK. Once you've cleared the fog, you'll finally see the paths available to you. Not the ones you've been running from, but the ones you actually want. Together, we'll map them based on your values, your needs, and who you are today — not who you were ten years ago.
GO. Then, I'll support you in taking the first steps. Through deeply personalized exercises, you'll build confidence, learn how to work with fear, and together we will prepare you for the obstacles along the way.
By the end, you won't have doubts about what to do.
Because you already know what you want. You just needed to learn how to listen to yourself again.
And that's my goal: to leave you with a process you can return to any time you feel lost. Any time you've stopped listening to yourself.
What Happens In The Journey?
The Head of Business Intelligence at a large corporate reached out when her position was at risk. She was spiraling down — applying to jobs she didn't want, learning skills for roles that made her feel sick.
When I asked her how fear has shaped her life choices, she told me:
"I've always gone the 'easy' way, following my abilities rather than what made me feel fulfilled, since I was primarily in need for financial stability. Fear of being in a financially unstable situation has had a deep impact on my happiness."
She confessed she believed deep down she was a lost cause, and that coaching felt like her last resort.
Later, she shared:
"I realized my purpose had always been there — just hidden under fear, self-doubt, and all those expectations we carry around."
By the end, she wasn't randomly job hunting anymore but building something of her own.
"Before, not only did it seem impossible — I had no idea myself that this passion could be something. And yet it had been there for over 20 years."
During our time working together, she learned the importance and what it looks like to stop — and that nothing is black or white. That building a new path means doing it slowly, step by step, and allowing things to coexist, at least for a while.
Not everyone leaves with a business idea. A Product Development Manager in the beauty industry came expecting to talk about her next career move — she was no longer happy at her organization, yet she was scared of leaving without a plan. By the end of The Journey, her anxiety had dropped significantly. She felt less stressed about the unknown and gained in self-confidence and trust. She realised that her desire to find a fulfilling job was stronger than her fear of jumping without knowing what to do next.
What everyone I work with leaves with, however, is a process. Concrete practices, exercises, and a repeatable approach they can come back to every time they feel lost.
They all find their own unique path — yet they started from the same point: they decided it was time to stop, and start listening.
Disclaimer.
Be aware: this is not your average career coaching.
You are a smart, ambitious, capable woman. You don't need my help to update your CV, prepare for an interview, or search for job opportunities (although those are all things we can do if really needed — they're simply not in the "curriculum" for The Journey).
You also don't need me to tell you what to do. I’m not your mother.
I believe the best use of our time together is helping you with what comes before of all that. How to go inward. How to listen to yourself. How to create a path that doesn't ask you to choose between stability and fulfilment — but gives you both.
And how to feel comfortable and confident during career transitions — a skill that becomes more valuable every year, in a world where change is the only constant.
How Does It Feel?
So, what is your gut feeling telling you right now? Before you analyze it. Before you start listing the pros and cons. Before you paint the worst-case scenario.
You already know what you want. You just need to learn how to hear yourself again — and practice the tools to walk the path.
If you've read this far, you already know what’s next.
When you're ready, I'm here.
I chose trust, not fear. You?
I'm Ambra. I help corporate women facing redundancy, restructuring, or a moment they know something has to change — to figure out what they actually want next, and finally walk their own path.
