It Still Fits | Returning to Yourself After Years of Growth, Change & Reinvention

There was once a version of you that moved without hesitation. A version that trusted herself before burnout, grief, survival mode, and life slowly pulled her away from who she used to be.

In the very first episode of Elevate Within, Sandy Davis shares the deeply personal story behind her journey through corporate burnout, identity loss, grief, healing, and rebuilding her life from the inside out. This is an honest conversation about what happens when high achievement, survival mode, and unresolved pain force you to confront the version of yourself you lost along the way.

This episode explores:
• Burnout and emotional exhaustion
• Identity loss and personal reinvention
• Grief, healing, and rebuilding after loss
• Learning to reconnect with yourself after survival mode
• Rediscovering your voice, confidence, and inner peace
• Navigating major life transitions as a woman

Elevate Within is a transformational podcast for women navigating burnout, healing, entrepreneurship, emotional wellness, self-worth, and personal growth through honest conversations about the “messy middle” of life.

If this episode resonates with you, subscribe and share Elevate Within on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and YouTube for more conversations centered around healing, rebuilding, and rising from within.

Connect with Sandra Davis:

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@ElevateWithinAlways
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/sandra-davis-abb21236/
Website: https://elevateopsadvisory.com/

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:01

Hello, and welcome to Elevate Within. I'm your host, Sandy Davis. This is something I've been wanting to do for a while now. And honestly, I didn't want to overthink it. I just wanted to start. This space is for real conversations about what it actually takes to rebuild, to grow, and to come back to yourself. Personally and professionally. And today, I want to start by something that's been sitting with me. I wrote something recently, and instead of just leaving it on the page, I wanted to share it here in my voice. Because sometimes you need to hear it. Part one, before I put her away. There was a version of me who didn't hesitate. She didn't wait until she felt ready. She didn't ask if it would work. She just moved. New York, I'm in my late twenties. By day, I worked in investment banking, structured, predictable, responsible. By night, I was building something on my own. Sassy's entertainment. I didn't know what I was doing. But I didn't need to, because I trusted myself enough to try. There's a kind of freedom in that where you don't overthink, where you don't second guess every step. When you're not waiting for permission, you just go. And I did. I made mistakes, a lot of them. But I learned as I moved, I adjusted, I figured things out in real time. And most of all, I kept going. That version of me was fearless. Not because nothing could go wrong, but because I wasn't afraid to find out. And then life shifted. Not all at once. Was gradual, subtle. So cow, I'm in my early thirties to forties. You start paying attention to the room. You learn when to speak and when not to. You figure out what works and what doesn't. And without realizing it, you start adjusting, not completely, just enough, enough to move smoother, enough to avoid friction, enough to fit. And I told myself that was growth, that it meant I was evolving. And some of it was, but some of it was me setting parts of myself aside, not throwing them away, just putting them somewhere safe for later. I didn't think I was losing anything. I thought I was becoming who I needed to be. But little by little, I stopped reaching for certain parts of myself until I forgot they were even there. And I didn't realize how much I had to put away until I went back to look for it. Part two, the moment I stopped negotiating with myself. The shift didn't come with an announcement. No big moment, no dramatic turning point, was quieter than that. I woke up one day and something in me felt different. The fear was there, was still there. But it wasn't in charge anymore, and for the first time in a long time, I wasn't trying to talk myself out of what I wanted. That's when I noticed it. How often I had been negotiating with myself. Maybe later, maybe when things settled down. Maybe when it makes more sense. Instead, I started trying on different versions of myself, different voices, different ways of showing up. Some were quieter, some were more polished, some were easier for certain rooms. I'd wear one for a while, then switch it out for another, never really stopping to ask, is this actually me? And I didn't take care of them. I didn't slow down enough to sit with any of it. I just kept adding more and more versions, more and more expectations, more ways to fit until one day none of them felt quite right. So I stopped. I got honest with myself. I stayed in places for too long. I stayed in spaces that I no longer fit. I made myself smaller when I knew I didn't have to. I chose comfort over what felt right more than once. Not because I was weak, but because it felt easier at the time. But I'm not in that place anymore. So I made a decision quietly, without needing anyone to agree. I'm not staying here, not in this version of life that requires me to shrink, not in spaces that not only work if I make myself smaller. And with that decision came release of expectations, of roles, of versions of myself that were never meant to last. And yes, even some people, not with anger, not with blame, just with understanding. I can love you and still choose a different direction. So this is where I exit. No announcement, no apology, just a different move. Part three. It still fits. So Cal. I'm in my early fifties. I didn't go looking for it at first. But something told me to open that door. The closet was full, packed. Different versions of myself lined up across the rack. Ones I had picked over. Ones that I had decided, yeah, this was my favorite, but wasn't. Ones I wore depending on the room I was in, some looked right, some worked for a while, but none of them felt like home. And then I noticed something in the back, covered like clear plastic. I hadn't touched it in years. And then I remembered that was mine. The one I had set out to be cleaned when I left New York to move to Cali. The one I told myself I come back to. And I never did. See, I got used to wearing everything else. Even when it didn't fit. I convinced myself it did because it looked right, because people approved, because that was a style. Damn. I forgot about it. My signature piece. My original voice. My authentic self. I stood there for a moment, just looking at it. Because I wasn't sure if it would still fit. Had been years. Life had changed me. Loss left me in pieces. Torn. Experiences had shaped me. So I pulled it out slowly. Took the plastic off and tried it on. And the moment I did, I knew it still fits. Like a glove. Not forced, not adjusted, natural. Like I never should have taken it off in the first place. And that's when it hit me. I didn't lose my voice. I just stopped choosing it. I got distracted by what made sense, by what felt safer, by what fit in the moment. But this was always mine. And this time, I'm not putting it back. I'm not rotating through versions of myself anymore. I'm not adjusting depending on the room. I'm showing up as myself fully. Not because it's easy, but because it's right. And I trust myself again to move, to build, to figure things out along the way. Done it before, and I'll do it again. Just this time as me, my authentic self. Some people will call it starting over. I don't. I call it coming back to myself. If any part of this resonates with you, you're not starting over. You're returning to a version of yourself that you're finally ready to choose again. That peace, that peace came from a very real place for me. There have been moments in my life, especially recently, where I had to stop and ask myself, who am I? What still fits? Because growth and healing and life, it changes you. And sometimes the things that used to fit, the roles, the expectations, the way you showed up, they don't anymore. And I think especially for women and for women in leadership and business, we don't always give ourselves space to acknowledge that. We just keep going. We keep performing. We keep showing up. Even when sometimes things internally have shifted. And for me, the season has been about recognizing that I don't have to hold on to the versions of myself that no longer feel aligned. Even if they've worked before, even if they've made sense before. And I know I'm not the only one. I've been having conversations with so many women lately who are successful, capable, strong, but quietly asking themselves, does this still me? So if you're in that space right now where something feels different, where you're questioning what still fits, I want to say this to you. You're not lost. You're evolving. And it's okay to let go of what no longer feels like you. Step into what does. Thank you for being here, for listening, and for allowing me to share this with you. This is just the beginning of Elevate Within. I'll see you in the next episode. Elevate Within.