Hello again, dear readers!

If you’ve read my first post ,you know that at the end of 2024, I made a massive shift. I walked away from a stable, well-paid job as an engineer in a large CAC40 company to pursue my dream of becoming an artist and building my own business. It’s been a wild ride, filled with moments of self-doubt, excitement, and—well—let’s be honest—panic. But, you know what? I’ve never felt more alive.

So why did I make this leap? What was so alluring about becoming an artist, abandoning all that financial stability, and following my dream (spoiler: with all its uncertainty and messy bits)? Well, that’s what I want to talk about today. I’m going to pull back the curtain a bit and share what this decision looked like for me. I’ll talk about the challenges I faced, the doubts that crept in, and why, in the end, I decided that following my heart was worth it.

Grab a cup of tea (or wine, no judgment here), and let’s dig into this.

What was holding me back (and what wasn’t)

For 8 years, I worked in a big corporate company as an engineer. The paycheck was reliable. The path was clear: work hard, get promoted, and keep living a life of predictable comfort. Honestly, it wasn’t bad. I had job security, a solid career trajectory, and—let’s not forget—benefits. Who doesn’t love benefits?

But, if I’m being honest, while I was comfortable, I wasn’t fulfilled. Sure, I was good at what I did, I was intellectually challenged, but It was often frustrating. I did enjoy the work itself, but there was a huge disconnect between my personal values and the reality of working in such a massive organization. When you work for a top-down decision-making structure with little room for personal input, so much inertia in every change, and decisions made without any real consideration for those on the ground level, you end end up yearning for something else—something more. At least I did.

The truth? I wanted to do work that felt right—work that aligned with my values, my vision, and my creativity. And I had to accept that the corporate world wasn’t for me anymore. The more I stayed, the more I felt stifled, and the more I realized I couldn’t continue living this life when my heart was pulling me in an entirely different direction. I was craving creativity. I was craving freedom. I was craving the ability to express myself through art.

But here’s where the guilt crept in. Leaving my job wasn’t just about giving up the financial security or the predictable path. It was about saying goodbye to a team I cared deeply about. By leaving, I was abandoning my team. I always tried to be a leader they could count on, someone who would always have their back. So when I handed in my resignation, it felt like I wasn’t just walking away from my job—I was walking away from people I truly cared about. And with it came the questions: Did I really have the right to choose myself? Was it fair to prioritize my own dreams over the well-being of the team I had worked so hard to support?

But here’s the thing I’ve learned: We can’t build a life we love by constantly sacrificing ourselves for others. There comes a point when you realize that if you don’t take care of yourself—if you don’t make yourself a priority—you’ll end up living a life that isn’t really yours. And when that happens, everyone around you suffers, too.

I had to accept that I wasn’t just choosing art over engineering—I was choosing myself. Did I felt selfish? Yes. Does it mean that I was? No. We can’t build the life we’re meant to live if we’re always putting others first. And that doesn’t mean being selfish—it means being honest with ourselves about what we need to feel fulfilled.

The Voice of Doubt: “But Are You Sure You Can Do This?”

Of course, guilt wasn’t my only companion on this journey, doubt was there too (the more, the merrier, right?). The reality of leaving behind that comfortable job in exchange for nothing—because let’s be real, art doesn’t always pay the bills at first—was scaring. I had a constant battle in my mind. On one side: the safety of my job. On the other side: the uncertain, messy, and wildly exciting world of being an artist. It felt like jumping off a cliff without knowing what was waiting at the bottom. Spoiler: I still don’t know. But that’s okay. Why?

Because comfort is safe, but safety doesn’t always lead to happiness.

Sometimes, staying in that “safe zone” means you’re not growing. And let’s face it, growth? It’s scary. It’s uncomfortable. It’s risky. But it’s also where the magic happens.

The fear of failure is a big one, and let’s be honest, it stops a lot of people from chasing their dreams. I mean, what if I wasn’t good enough? What if I was just fooling myself, thinking I could be an artist when I’ve spent my entire career in a steel-making plant? What if people didn’t like my work? What if they didn’t even care? What if I was just pretending to be something I was not? What if I wasn’t legitimate? What if I never sell a single painting? What if people don’t take me seriously?

But here’s the thing I’ve learned: Imposter syndrome doesn’t disappear by itself. The only way to move past it is to act anyway. You have to take that first step even when you feel like you don’t belong. Because the reality is: you are worthy of following your dreams, no matter how big they are. (You got it girl!)

And anyway, what’s worse than failing? You got it: never trying and staying stuck in a life that isn’t fulfilling. No amount of security would ever replace the peace I’d feel knowing I followed my heart. I could have stayed in my safe engineering job for years, but would I have ever felt truly happy? Probably not.

The truth is: We don’t grow by staying comfortable. We grow by pushing ourselves, by challenging our limits, by taking risks, by being vulnerable. And let’s be real—if we never take a risk, how can we expect to know what we’re capable of? I’ve got Brené Brown to thank to realize that vulnerability wasn’t weakness but a true sense of courage. Reading her books and watching her TED Talks was like a lightbulb moment for me. I realized that by pretending I didn’t have fears or doubts, I was blocking my own growth. And the real breakthrough came when I understood that it’s okay to not have everything figured out—in fact, the magic happens when you don’t have everything figured out, but you do it anyway.

The Peace of Following Your Heart

Here’s the part that’s really important—and the part I remind myself of every single day: there is peace in following your heart. Yes, it’s terrifying. Yes, it means dealing with failure and uncertainty. But every time I sit down to paint, I feel more alive, more me. There’s a kind of quiet joy that comes from knowing you’re doing something that resonates with your soul, even if it’s not always easy.

The truth is, I’m still figuring it out. Some days, I have no idea what I’m doing. Other days, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. But either way, it’s my journey. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

I chose to bet on myself. I chose to take the risk of failing — I’ve realized that taking risks — whether it’s in business or in life—isn’t about being fearless. It’s about being brave enough to keep moving forward even when you’re scared.

And as scary as it is to leave behind everything I knew, I’ve never felt more at peace. My art, my business, and the life I’m building are mine. They’re the result of choices I’ve made for myself, not for anyone else. And there’s something incredibly freeing about that.

So, to Anyone Thinking of Taking the Leap…

If you’re reading this and you’re on the edge of your own leap—whether it’s to pursue your passion, quit your job, or just take a risk—I want to tell you: it’s worth it.

Yes, you’ll feel scared. Yes, you’ll have doubts. Yes, you might even question your decision along the way. But the truth is: you’re never going to know what you’re truly capable of unless you take that first step.

And remember: vulnerability is not weakness. It’s a form of courage. It’s the courage to show up, even when you’re not sure you’ll succeed.

So, take the leap. Be vulnerable. And if you fail? Well, at least you’ll have learned something. If you succeed? You’ll have created a life that’s yours—one that reflects who you are, what you love, and what you believe in.

Let’s do this together. I’d love to hear your thoughts—your fears, your dreams, your experiences. Drop a comment below or share your story. Let’s make this journey a conversation.

Until next time, with all my vulnerability and courage,

Coline