There’s something undeniably magnetic about a fresh start. For some, it’s shedding an outdated wardrobe. For others, it’s moving cross-country, a dramatic haircut, or even just saying, “That’s enough,” to people or habits no longer serving you. Reinvention comes in waves, big and small, propelling us toward new versions of ourselves—versions that fit a little better, breathe a little deeper, and bring us closer to the life we’ve been dreaming of. If Beyoncé can drop her “Lemonade” era and emerge fiercer than ever, surely we can, too.

I’ve had my share of reinvention moments, some intentional, others not. Growing up on the Navajo Nation, identity was a collective effort—it was woven into stories, shared meals, and ceremonies. While I cherished that grounding, when I left for Vermont for college, I realized how much of “me” was still unformed. For the first time, I wasn’t surrounded by aunties reminding me who I was. It was freeing and terrifying in equal parts, like stepping into a pair of new moccasins—exciting, but a little stiff until broken in.

Transformation is a process, one we often resist until we’re practically dragged into it (looking at you, 2020). But when we approach moments of reinvention with intention and open hearts, they become sources of growth and resilience. Here’s how to recognize and embrace those defining “start over” moments, based on what I’ve learned between the mesas of home and the coffeehouses of Portland.

1. Pay Attention to the Nudge

Let’s be real: reinvention rarely comes out of nowhere. There’s usually that quiet nudge, or sometimes a full-body shove, telling you something needs to change. Maybe it’s a relationship that’s lost its spark, a career that’s turned into an energy drain, or a creeping feeling that you’re living small when life is begging you to go big.

For me, one of those nudges came in the form of a bad breakup during my first semester in Vermont. My then-boyfriend was part of the crunchy backpacker set—the kind of guy who would carve a spoon out of driftwood and think it was romantic. We played house, and by “house,” I mean we shared a studio apartment with questionable plumbing and a mouse problem. It turned out that while I loved the idea of a cozy partnership, I deeply resented having to chase wildlife out of my oatmeal.

When the relationship fell apart, so did I—briefly. But in the midst of my ugly cry phase, I felt a shift. Without realizing it, I’d been holding onto a version of myself that felt safe but didn’t leave room for growth. That breakup was my nudge, the spark to start redefining what I wanted in both a partner and myself.

2. Start Small—Think Tweaks, Not Overhauls

Reinvention doesn’t mean burning your entire life to the ground (unless you’re starring in a Taylor Swift album, in which case, carry on). Often, it’s about the little shifts that make the biggest impact. You don’t need to quit your job and open a llama farm (though if that’s the vibe, go for it). Instead, think small, intentional tweaks:

  • Try out a new morning routine. For me, reconnecting with tradition meant starting my mornings with Navajo prayers again—a grounding reset that reminded me of home.
  • Declutter one corner of your life. Physical spaces often reflect mental spaces. I finally tackled my inbox, unsubscribing indiscriminately. It was like a digital exorcism—highly recommended.
  • Say yes to one thing outside your comfort zone. Back in Vermont, I joined a martial arts class despite being profoundly uncoordinated. Half the time, I was on the floor laughing, but I also learned the power in pushing past my own fear of looking ridiculous.

3. Let Go of What No Longer Serves You

Here’s the tough-love moment: reinvention often requires a clean break from old habits, toxic relationships, or self-doubt. Think of it as a Marie Kondo-style purge—if it no longer sparks joy, it’s got to go.

When I left my job as a cultural liaison to pursue writing full-time, it felt reckless, even impossible. I was leaving a steady career, one that many friends and family viewed as sensible, for the unstable life of a writer. I won’t romanticize it—my first year freelancing looked a lot like that scene in “Eat Pray Love” where Julia Roberts cries on her bathroom floor. But slowly, something clicked: I finally felt aligned with my purpose. Saying goodbye to what wasn’t fulfilling me cleared the path for real growth.

Here’s a tip: When letting go feels scary, write a ceremony around it. Burn that old journal full of breakup angst. Host a “moving on” dinner party. Turn release into an event—one that celebrates the open space it creates.

4. Seek Out Community

Reinvention doesn’t have to be a solo endeavor. In fact, it’s often at its most powerful when done with the support of others. When I returned to Arizona for a season after college, my family wrapped me in their version of tough love (and a lot of frybread). My aunties offered their brutally honest advice: “Maybe stop dating guys who look like they only own flannel shirts.” Fair.

Whether it’s through friends, therapy, or a new hobby group, surround yourself with people who uplift and challenge you. Choose companions who see your potential, not just your past. Their stories will inspire and encourage your own.

If you don’t know where to start, think about the spaces you already inhabit. Have you always been curious about a salsa class? Is there a local book club begging for fresh perspectives? Community grows where you tend it.

5. Celebrate Who You’re Becoming

One of the misconceptions about reinvention is that it’s all about shedding old skin and starting new. But true transformation isn’t rejection—it’s integration. It’s about honoring who you were while embracing who you’re becoming. Every version of yourself deserves acknowledgment and celebration.

When I finally built up enough confidence to call myself a writer, the first thing I wrote was a love letter to my younger self. It wasn’t anything profound—more like, “Hey, kid, you’ll be fine. Also, you don’t need bangs; trust me on this one.” But it reminded me that every awkward, unsure phase of my life still played an essential role in building who I am today.

So here’s your homework: Take yourself out on a “new you” date. Dress up, order your favorite meal, and toast to your evolution. Find joy in this messy, magical process of becoming.

Transformation isn’t a one-time event. It’s a series of chapters, each written with courage, laughter, and a little vulnerability. So whether you’re swapping beige cubicle walls for freelance freedom, finally cutting ties with the “situationship” of doom, or just mastering the delicate art of saying no, know this: You are allowed to reinvent yourself. Again and again.

Because life, much like love, is a process. And the best relationships—the ones we have with others and, most importantly, with ourselves—are built on our willingness to grow, stumble, and rise. Start where you are. The rest will follow.