The Gift of the Third Kick: Trusting Intuition at the Crossroads

When life gives us a final push we can't ignore, we have a choice: cling to comfort or leap into the unknown.

So many of us find ourselves standing at a crossroads. Institutions are crumbling, systems are shifting, and any sense of security feels like a distant memory. Perhaps that sense of security was never real—just a well-worn illusion.

I’m one of over 10,000 nonprofit professionals laid off since January 20th, alongside tens of thousands of former federal employees now wondering what comes next. But instead of fear, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

Let me explain.

By nature, I’m adaptable and optimistic. I’m the kind of person who sticks things out. But that endurance has sometimes come at the cost of missing subtle clues—whispers from life that it’s time to move on. And if you ignore the whispers long enough, the universe eventually sends a kick.

I’ve now received three of these “kicks”—all startlingly similar—and by the third, I finally understood the message: the test will keep coming until I choose differently.

Each of these moments happened in a professional setting where I couldn’t seem to please a superior, no matter how hard I tried. The environments were high-stress, expectations unclear. I asked questions. I gave my all. But still, I received criticism that shook my confidence—something I wasn’t used to. I’ve always been the bridge-builder, the de-escalator, the person who fills in gaps without expecting praise. I was used to being appreciated.

But comfort, I’ve learned, can be a trap.

I stayed at my first organization for 14 years. I didn’t leave until I was fired. And I am so grateful for that experience—because without that disruption, I might never have left. That “kick” opened the door to work with two incredible organizations, to stretch and grow, and to meet people who forever changed my life.

The second kick came, and I recognized it more quickly. I quietly made plans to move on—only for the challenging supervisor to leave first. I took that as a sign to stay. Again, I chose comfort.

And then came the third kick. This time, it felt like a kick and a slap. I knew what it was. I responded differently.

I voiced my boundaries with clarity and calm. I stated plainly that I would not continue working under someone who didn’t trust me. I gave the situation one final shot, but when verbal aggression followed, I acted. I made my exit plan, fast.

And again—I feel only gratitude. I was held in kindness and support by my colleagues. I modeled for my children that no job is worth compromising your self-worth. I learned that even in beautiful workplaces, we are all replaceable. But when we stand in our truth, doors open.

Leaving wasn’t a logical decision. I need income. I need health insurance. I loved that job. But this is not a moment for logic.

This is a moment for listening. This kick was not a punishment—it was an invitation to step boldly into the unknown.

So here I am.

There are jobs I could do, jobs I’d enjoy, jobs that would feel safe. But instead, I’m choosing to follow a business idea that came to me in a dream over two years ago. I’m embracing the discomfort of this moment and letting my intuition lead.

Coincidentally—or perhaps not—the focus of this business is to help others do the same: to trust their intuition and live in alignment.

It feels only fitting to call upon Hecate, the Greek goddess of crossroads, as my guide in this next chapter.

She stands where the paths diverge, holding the torch that lights the way.

And I’m choosing to walk toward the flame.