“Sometimes you have to lose who you were to become who you are.”
There’s something intoxicating about the idea of reinvention. It’s the montage moment in every rom-com: the closet overhaul set to a Lizzo anthem, the hair transformation that shocks everyone at the office, the vows to “find yourself” that start with buying way too many candles. But in real life, reinvention isn’t quite so tidy or Instagram-worthy. It’s messy. It’s uncomfortable. And sometimes, it starts with ugly crying on your bathroom floor after a breakup. (Don’t ask me how I know.)
The good news is: reinvention is possible. It’s not reserved for characters in movies or celebrities who dramatically delete their Instagram accounts and emerge months later as “new.” Reinvention belongs to all of us—whether it’s after heartbreak, a career pivot, or the quiet decision that you refuse to stay stuck.
Let’s talk about the beauty of transformation and why starting over isn’t a failure—it’s a flex.
The Catalyst: Every Messy Ending is a Fresh Beginning
Reinvention is often born out of necessity. Maybe your ex hit you with a “We need to talk” text that you never saw coming. Maybe you’ve been staring at the same four walls for too long, drowning in monotony. Or perhaps it’s more subtle—a creeping feeling that the life you’ve built no longer fits, like outdated skinny jeans you swore were timeless.
For me, it was a combination of heartbreak and a harsh reality check during my late 20s. I had spent so much of my life fitting into other people’s expectations—earning the “right” degrees, dating the “right” kinds of people, and chasing the “right” kinds of success. But somewhere along the way, I felt like I’d lost myself. Sure, I had a curated resume and a photo-worthy smile, but under all that? I felt hollow.
Cue the messy ending. A relationship I thought was headed for the long haul dissolved over an argument I can’t even remember anymore. And before I knew it, I was back in Dallas, staring out of my childhood bedroom window, wondering how a woman with two degrees and a closet full of blazers (an overcorrection after too many rom-coms) could feel so untethered. That’s the thing about reinvention—it doesn’t knock politely. It steamrolls in and demands you do the work.
Step One: The Art of Letting Go (of Who You Were)
Here’s the deal: reinvention isn’t adding layers. It’s peeling them back. Before I could figure out who I wanted to be, I had to let go of all the identities and expectations that weren’t serving me—and let me tell you, that’s no small feat.
- That picture in your head of the “perfect life”? Rip it up. The job, the partner, the 5-year plan—it’s okay to let those dreams shift. Life doesn’t reward rigidity.
- Stop blaming yourself. Relationships end. Friendships fade. Careers pivot. None of these things are personal failures—they’re redirects.
- Say goodbye to perfectionism. Your reinvention will not be flawless, and that’s fine. Spoiler alert: nobody knows what they’re doing.
Letting go feels unnatural at first, like stepping out in the cold after a long, cozy winter. But once you release the pressures and personas you’ve outgrown, you create space for something better.
The Rebuilding Phase: Shedding the Old, Trying the New
Here’s where things get spicy—reinvention is full of experimentation. It’s a little like dating yourself. You figure out what you like, what you need, and what you never want to revisit.
When I started over, I took an approach borrowed from Beyoncé (who else?): I got in “formation.” For me, that involved three non-negotiables.
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Makeover Your Mindset
The start of a reinvention journey is as much about unlearning as it is about learning. I ditched the “what will they think?” filter I’d been living through and started asking better questions: “What do I think?” “What brings me joy?” “What am I afraid to try?” Therapy helped, obviously (#TeamGrowth), but so did journaling daily—like my own little pep talk on a page. -
Find a Passion Project
I leaned into storytelling. Writing wasn't just cathartic, it became a lifeboat. I crafted messy little essays about heartbreaks and joy, wrote terrible poetry I’ll never share, and, slowly, started finding my voice again. For you, this might be taking up painting, finally learning how to salsa, or, heck, getting into composting if that speaks to your soul. The point is to try. -
Shake Up Your Circle
Let me be brutally honest: some people in your life are chapters, not constants, and that’s okay. When I started over, I realized some of my friendships were tied to outdated versions of myself. It hurt to let them go, but the space they left allowed for deeper, truer connections—with people who loved the “me” I was becoming.
Setbacks Are Part of the Story
I know what you’re thinking: “Ebony, this sounds amazing, but I’m not that girl. I can’t just ‘reinvent’ on a whim.” Trust me, I said the same. And guess what? I tripped—a lot. Change isn’t a straight line or a string of perfect montages. It’s trial, error, and a lot of awkward moments in between.
Like the time I tried yoga and fell—spectacularly—while in Warrior II pose, knocking over someone’s water bottle. Or when I thought bangs would be my big “new me” moment and wound up looking like Tina Turner in Mad Max (God rest her soul). Reinvention will humble you, but it will also stretch you. One misstep at a time, you get closer to the core of who you are.
Reinvention in a World That Likes to Label You
Let’s face it: society isn’t always kind to people who start over. You’ll hear whispers: “Why is she doing that?” or “What happened to her old life?” Resist the urge to explain yourself. Reinvention is a love letter to yourself, not a press release for others.
The truth is, we live in a world that thrives on labels. But those labels? Honey, they’re just stickers. Not tattoos. People will try to box you in, but you don’t owe anyone permanence.
Closing the Chapter: Reinvention as an Ongoing Journey
Here’s what no one tells you: reinvention isn’t a one-time event. It’s not something you do just because you went through a breakup or ugly cried watching Eat Pray Love (no judgment here). It’s a lifelong process.
You are allowed to evolve. To rediscover. To become the best—and most authentic—version of yourself, over and over again. Reinvention isn’t the end of the road; it’s just the beginning of a new one. And the best part? That road is only yours to walk.
So if you’re standing at your own messy crossroads wondering if it’s too late to change, let me leave you with this: transformation doesn’t require permission. You don’t need to wait for a Monday, New Year’s, or any “perfect timing.” The perfect time to start over is whenever you decide it is.
Go ahead. Reimagine yourself. Beyoncé’s probably working on her next era, too.
