I was always the good kid. The one other parents held up as an example. At school, I worked to be the best student, get the highest grades, and earn a place at a top university. And it worked: a top-tier high school, an undergraduate degree at Renmin University, then admission to its master’s program through academic recommendation. During my master’s, I won a full scholarship from the China Scholarship Council for an internship at Standard Chartered Bank in the UK.

Then came the rules of working life: do your job well, deliver results, build a good relationship with your manager, and play by the rules. The first few years went smoothly too. After my internship at Standard Chartered, I joined an international management trainee program, rotating across offices around the world. In 2014, on another full scholarship, I got into ESMT Berlin, one of Germany’s top business schools, for my MBA. After my MBA, I entered the German corporate world, working on compensation and performance strategy for senior executives. I believed that if I followed the plan, I would eventually reach the C-suite.

Over the years in Germany, I worked at a major energy company, put in the hours at a tech startup, and worked at the German headquarters of a US company. Add in my time in Shanghai, and altogether I’ve spent over 15 years in HR and talent strategy. You can see the full picture of my career and education here.

Even now, when I think back to my corporate years, one image stays sharp:

By day, I sat with senior leaders and the C-suite, deep in discussions about talent strategy, promotions, pay rises, and leadership. I earned a five-figure monthly salary. From the outside, I’d made it. I felt important, too: my calendar was full, there were endless documents to read, and I often travelled around the world to meet leaders and employees, discussing strategy and putting it into practice.

By night, I lay awake. Night after night. This wasn’t the work I really wanted to do. The discussions, reports, meetings, and advice all felt like a performance: I was playing the part my job required, rather than doing something I cared about. I could feel my energy draining away. Yet if I left corporate life, what would I want to do? What else could I do? On those nights, I would move to the living-room sofa so I wouldn’t wake my husband.

The next morning, I would get up, pull myself together, and tell myself: “You can do this. Keep going a little longer. If other people can do it, so can you.” So I kept going to work. Kept playing the game. Until I burned out and took six weeks of medical leave.

Today, I do work I believe in and love, with clients I deeply respect. They inspire me, and their feedback means a great deal to me. As I help them achieve their goals, I find purpose in my own life. I once told a client, “I’m deeply happy with the life I have. I wouldn’t trade it for anyone else’s.” Perhaps this is what it feels like when your gifts and your sense of purpose come together. Sometimes I wonder how much our upbringing and social expectations have taught us that there is only one way to succeed. No wonder choosing our own path can feel uncertain, even frightening. But what if living in harmony with life means finding our own North Star and doing all we can to become fully ourselves? Perhaps outward success can follow as a by-product. That has been my experience. When I commit to the path that feels truly mine, it can feel as though the whole universe is helping me along.

My hope for our work together is that you find your own version of this: a career you wholeheartedly believe in, one that supports the life you want. A life in which you can be fully yourself. Waking up with joy at the work ahead, and recognising and valuing your own vitality and creativity.