I usually write about marketing and professional experiences and thoughts. Since 2025 is the year I turn 40 years old, I thought I should do a trip down memory lane to see my last decade’s journey. Some might call this a mid-life crisis or a written therapy session, I call this a celebration of becoming the me I am today.

Some numbers

Lots happened in the past 10 years:

• 6 role changes in my career.
• 3 redundancies, each teaching me resilience.
• 1 successful business venture with friends.
• 3 Product Marketing Alliance (PMA) certifications.
• 3 Chartered Institute of Marketing (CIM) certifications.
• 2 higher education language degrees achieved pro-Covid19 era.
• Certified Six Sigma Lean professional status.
• Successful completion of the McKinsey Forward Program for future leaders.
• 5 international trips (excluding Greece).
• Married twice—to the same person, because My Big Fat Greek Wedding, that’s why.
• Survived the infamous Greek bureaucracy twice—an experience I don’t recommend!
• 2 cats adopted and countless walks with a borrowed dog.
• 2 pregnancies, with the loss of our precious twin girls and 1 beautiful survivor.

Just listing all of those feats it makes all the years flash before my eyes: the stress, the happiness, the depression, the achievements, the anxiety, the fulfilment. It makes me wonder why I did all these things – or why they happened the way they did. It’s easier to focus on the numbers than the “why”. Numbers feel tangible, measurable, like a snapshot of progress or success. But behind every bulletpoint lies a story; some chapters that are exciting, some that are heartbreaking, and some that felt at that time like they’d just never end. But each milestone holds a story and a lesson.

When I changed roles six times it wasn’t just about updating my LinkedIn profile. Each transition brought its own set of challenges: learning curves, new team dynamics, and moments of questioning whether I was good enough. I assume that other people questioned whether I was good enough, too, and some may have wished I wasn’t. I learned to embrace growth and reinvention not because it was easy but because it was necessary. Every role, every interaction, every argument, every problem faced and every solution I found added a new layer to my professional identity and, more importantly, to my resilience as a marketer.

Have I been a good colleague throughout all those roles? I believe so, although I am sure that I have evolved because of the past mistakes I made. I learnt that being a good colleague doesn’t always mean just putting your head down and getting the job done, even though you should be measured in outcomes. You need to actually like the people and the environment you are in to be able to build relationships and have meaningful interactions. Some of the people I worked with were dryer than wall paint, others were manipulative and liars, but there were some interesting (at least to me) people that I still keep in touch with and enjoy being around. I also figured out that even if you are a good colleague, not all your colleagues will be good to you or others. This is where work life is not fair, even if you are trying to be fair with everyone around you. At the start of the decade I had a colleague that got promoted and got credit for someone else’s work. I didn’t find that right and I spoke up for the person that was treated unfairly; that made me automatically “the bad guy”. They have also taken my ideas that they mocked and presented them for theirs to the business, getting credit for it, too. Something that could contradict all that in those people’s eyes is that I have been told by managers that came after that I am “too nice” and I need to stop. I didn’t understand what they meant until I figured out that I was being taken for granted. Lately, a colleague took a business idea I had and wanted to build upon and presented it to her masters course at Harvard as hers without my permission. The same colleague threw me multiple times under the bus to senior stakeholders for work not being done and decided to stop talking to me when I defended myself and put a boundary on the gaslighting. So sometimes you have to be the “bad guy” because you shouldn’t move your boundaries to accommodate other people’s disrespect.

The three times I was made redundant? That’s a tough one to unpack. I remember crying for a week the first time it happened, thinking that my world has come to an end. “I just turned 30 and that is my birthday present? Really?” Each redundancy felt like a failure at first, like the universe was trying to tell me I wasn’t cut out for this. But anyone who knows me knows I am stubborn and I will act on what I believe is right for me. Now, with a little distance, I see those moments as turning points. They forced me to take stock of what I truly wanted and pushed me to pursue opportunities that aligned with my ethics and values. It is no coincidence that some of my most meaningful career milestones and growth happened after those setbacks.

Certifications from PMA and CIM weren’t just about building credentials; they were stepping stones toward expertise in marketing and strategy. Becoming a Six Sigma Lean professional taught me efficiency, not just in processes but in life. And the McKinsey Forward Program reminded me that leadership is as much about asking the right questions as it is about delivering results.

And then there’s the softer side of this decade: the weddings, the travelling, the pets. But parenthood, in all its rawness, has been the most profound experience of all. Losing our twin girls before they took their first breath of air scarred me for life. The way my then manager treated the situation at work was just plain wrong. And where others were shopping for a cot and baby clothes I was shopping for a coffin. The heartbreak of losing two children before welcoming my third reminded me of the depths of human resilience and the beauty and anxiety of holding on to hope. And also that parenthood should be celebrated every day in all its forms: tiredness, happiness, sadness, satisfaction, and pure joy.

So what did I learn the past 10 years?

The overall lesson of the last ten years is this: life doesn’t come with a roadmap. I’ve had to navigate plenty of twists and turns and more times than once I’ve found myself off-course. What’s kept me going is a deep sense of curiosity and a belief that things happen in life when they are needed and there’s always something new to learn from every experience.

In my 40s I’m not going to focus on ticking more boxes or chasing the next milestone. Instead, I’m focusing on what truly matters: relationships, growth, and the courage to show up authentically and unapologetically me, both in life and in work.

To my fellow travellers in this journey of becoming: cheers to the twists, the turns, and the endless possibilities ahead. Here’s to the next decade of curiosity, reinvention, and celebration.

Let’s do this.