The freedom you craved is here. So why does it feel scary?
Image created by Canva AI for a post that I might not publish about anxiety, inner gremlins and planetary retrogrades.
You thought it would feel better than this.
You worked so hard to get here. Maybe you raised the kids, and they're finally independent. Maybe you've built a business that now runs smoothly without you hovering. Perhaps you've reached a level of financial security where you can finally breathe a sigh of relief. Or maybe, for the first time in years, you have space in your calendar that isn't colour-coded and triple-booked.
You craved this freedom. You fantasized about having space to breathe, to rest, to maybe even figure out what you actually want when no one else's needs are dictating your days.
But now that it's here? It feels... strange. Unsettling. Like you should be doing something more important than whatever this is.
Here's what no one tells you about getting what you want
That restless, slightly anxious feeling creeping in? It doesn't mean you're broken or ungrateful. It means you've entered the space after achievement—the part of the story that doesn't make it into the success narratives we're fed.
There's no roadmap for this territory. No productivity hack or five-step framework. No clear "next milestone" lighting up on your internal GPS. Just... space. And if you're someone who's been in constant motion for years, that space can feel like standing at the edge of a cliff.
Your nervous system is essentially asking: "Wait, what are we supposed to be optimizing for now?"
The productivity trap that got you here
Here's the thing about high-achieving women, and many men: we've been beautifully and systematically conditioned to earn our worth through usefulness.
Be indispensable. Stay three steps ahead. Anticipate everyone's needs. Keep all the plates spinning while making it look effortless.
Our value has been measured by how much we can handle and how smoothly we can make everyone else's lives run.
When that machinery suddenly quiets down, we're left sitting with an uncomfortable question: Who am I when no one needs me to fix, manage, or optimize anything?
This isn't a character flaw. It's what happens when you've spent years tying your identity to your productivity, and now the external validation loop has gone quiet.
The liminal space between who you were and who you're becoming
What you're experiencing has a name: liminal space. It's the threshold between your old life and whatever comes next. It's supposed to feel disorienting because you're literally between identities.
The person who got you here—the one who could juggle seventeen things while solving everyone's problems—did her job. She got you to freedom. But she might not be the version of you that knows what to do with it.
And that's exactly as it should be. This is your life stage.
Freedom doesn't feel expansive right away. First, it feels empty because you're not just gaining space in your calendar; you're being asked to reimagine what success means.
The questions that change everything
If you're reading this from that strange in-between place—where everything looks fine on paper but something feels off in your bones—these questions might help:
What do I want now that I didn't have permission to want before? Not what you think you should want, but what makes you curious or lit up when no one is watching.
Where am I still trying to earn my rest? Notice the subtle ways you might be creating busy work or taking on unnecessary responsibilities because sitting still feels too vulnerable.
What would I do if I trusted that I'm already enough? This one might feel impossible to answer right now, and that's okay. Just notice what comes up.
What kind of freedom feels safe to me right now? Maybe total openness feels too overwhelming. Perhaps you need a balance of freedom and structure, or space with gentle boundaries.
This is not a problem to solve
Here's what I want you to know: you don't need to figure this out quickly. This liminal space isn't a layover you need to rush through to reach your true destination. It is part of the journey.
Your restlessness isn't evidence that you're doing something wrong. It's evidence that you're ready for something different. Something that honours not just what you can achieve, but who you are when you're not achieving anything at all.
The woman who craved this freedom was wise. She knew you needed this space, even if you don't know what to do with it yet.
Trust her. Trust the process. Trust that not knowing what comes next doesn't mean you're falling behind—it means you're finally free enough to find out what you actually want, instead of what you think you should want.
You're not broken. You're not ungrateful. You're not doing it wrong.
You're just... free. And learning what that means is its own kind of work—the most important kind you might ever do.
Key Takeaways
If you're feeling restless after achieving a major goal:
This discomfort is normal and doesn't mean you're ungrateful
You're in "liminal space"—the threshold between old and new identities
Your nervous system is adjusting to life without constant external validation
Freedom feels empty before it feels expansive
You're not falling behind; you're in an important transition
Signs you're ready for the next phase:
Questioning who you are when no one needs you to "do" anything
Feeling guilty about resting or creating unnecessary busy work
Sensing that your old definition of success no longer fits
Craving something you can't quite name yet
FAQ: Navigating Post-Achievement Restlessness
Q: How long does this "liminal space" last? A: There's no standard timeline. Some people move through it in months, others take years. The key is not rushing the process but learning to be comfortable with not knowing what comes next. This is midlife. If you’re into astrology, I can tell you that the Chiron return happens between the ages of 49-51, when we all experience the culmination of what Chiron, known as “the wounded healer” has been trying to teach us. It’s a journey.
Q: Should I make big life changes right now? A: Generally, it's wise to sit with the discomfort for a while before making major decisions. Use this time to explore what you actually want, not what you think you should want. Divorce at this life stage is common. It may be right for you, or it may not.
Q: What if I never figure out what I want? A: The goal isn't to have a perfect answer. It's about developing a different relationship with uncertainty and trusting that clarity emerges through exploration, not analysis.
Q: Is it normal to feel guilty about having this "problem"? A: Absolutely. Many successful people feel like they should just be grateful and move on. But dismissing these feelings keeps you stuck. Your restlessness is information, not ingratitude.
Get a downloadable worksheet version of the questions that change everything here⤵️
