Beyond the Exit: Finding Yourself When Success Feels Empty

Yesterday, I read an article about a couple who sold their company for $745 MILLION and said they felt completely numb afterward. A friend sent me the CNBC article because this is literally what I help people navigate. And while their story made headlines, I'm seeing this everywhere. And not just with people selling their companies.

Here's the thing nobody talks about: Getting your big exit can feel like stepping off a cliff into... nothing.

The Question That Broke a 70-Year-Old Man

A few months back, I gave a talk called "Who Are You Without Your Business?" (Yeah, I know, heavy stuff.) The next morning, this distinguished gentleman in his seventies pulled me aside.

"I couldn't sleep," he said. "I've built three businesses. THREE. And I have no idea who I am without them. How am I just asking this NOW?"

I wanted to hug him.
Been there.

When Your Work Becomes Your Whole Damn Personality

Over the course of my career, someone would ask what I did for fun and I'd literally say, "I love my work!"

Eye roll at past-Melanie.

It wasn't that loving my work was bad. It was that work had become EVERYTHING. My identity. My worth. My reason for getting up. Everything.

Then 2020 happened and punched me right in the face.

Rock Bottom In My Wedding Dress

Let me paint you a picture of peak dysfunction: In the three weeks before my wedding, I did NINE speaking gigs. NINE. The day my parents flew in for our pre-wedding party? I was speaking in Destin, FL before racing home to Denver, CO to see them and the rest of the family.

Looking back at the photos, I see the absolute beauty and the magic of the day, but I also see a woman who was:

• Killing herself at the gym to fit into that dress

• Completely overworked

• Carrying the weight of everyone's paychecks while ignoring her own needs

• Exhausted and still adding things to her schedule

Then, a few months later, COVID hit.

Retreats? Canceled. Speaking fees? Refunded. My entire business model? Poof.

And there I was, staring at myself in the mirror thinking, "Who the hell ARE you?"

Sometimes Getting Knocked On Your Ass Saves Your Life

It took me over a YEAR to realize that pandemic pause was exactly what I needed. My nervous system was fried. Toast. Done.

I had to find joy that had absolutely nothing to do with making money. Revolutionary concept, right?

Fast forward to today, and my life is unrecognizable (in the best way):

I live in a place people wait to retire to. A little island off the coast of Florida where the weather is nice year-round.

I garden. Yes, I actually get dirt under my nails and talk to my plants. Past-Melanie would've laughed at me.

I sit on the beach with friends instead of collapsing in front of Netflix after grinding all day.

My mornings are sacred. Coffee, journaling (Morning Pages), incense, quiet music. I actually listen to what my soul needs instead of immediately checking my phone. Sometimes that means walking the beach at sunrise with a new friend.

I take walks with my husband through our neighborhood park–brainstorming and dreaming and just... being.

I geek out over nature. Resurrection ferns unfurling after rain? I'm there for it. Thunderstorms? I literally cheer.

I have actual friendships. Not networking relationships. FRIENDS. We sit on my lanai, we WhatsApp each other ridiculous memes, we show up for each other's lives.

I LOVE being silly. Dancing around the house, snuggling with my Warmie (he's a Mushroom named Mellow. Get it? A Mush Mellow? teehee), and making videos of loud off-key songs about nothing.

Even when work gets intense, I know who I am beyond my business.

2019 Melanie couldn't have imagined this life. But she's the brave badass who asked the question that made it all possible.