When my children were young my husband had a good and secure job and I did not need to work. I often wished to be a person who was satisfied with what I had. Why couldn’t I just take care of our kids, our home, go to the gym— maybe take up tennis?

That would have been so much easier.

But that kind of life was never meant for me.

For brief periods I found growth in my everyday. I mastered complicated recipes, created a precise budget, and drafted the cotillion carpool spreadsheet—my single greatest legacy of the elementary school years. I learned to run and explored new forms of yoga. I served on boards and held part-time jobs.

I learned to write novels (kind of) and got fairly good at service and memoir writing. Good enough to make a living, not a great living but certainly respectable by publishing standards.

And yes, I did try tennis, but one must be realistic about the natural gifts one has been or has not been endowed with, including hand-eye coordination.

I needed more. More accomplishment, more meaning, more of whatever was just out of reach. All that requires more growth.

Could I possibly be satisfied to enjoy where I am without continuing to press for what’s next?

Could I hit pause on my learning and evolution?

Could I be content to believe that everything I need to know I’ve learned by now?

The answer, of course, is no.

It’s an annoying personality trait, this need to keep pushing forward. But it’s mine.

Now that I’ve passed a most terrifying milestone birthday, my commitment to growth seems to be getting stronger. I had worried that I’d become stuck in my advanced age. Admit that I let my age intimidate me feels painful and petty and shallow. But it’s true.

Nevertheless, here I am. Leveling up my digital strategy skills, mastering the marketing funnel for Portfolio, and stepping up to the responsibility of the leadership positions I’ve accepted. Even when those roles immerse me into situations I’m not ready for. From learning how to run Facebook ads, to taking action for racial equity, to supporting people who do not value or define growth the way I do.

It’s exhausting or energizing. That’s my choice.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

If you too are obsessed with growth, I can help.