It was late summer of 1994 and I was wearing a beautiful dark orange suit (skirt suit – because women weren’t allowed to wear pants to work then!), perfect for the upcoming Fall weather. I thought I looked sharp as I entered the office of the consulting firm where I had started working. I was feeling confident and chatting with the others in my start group when the executive in charge of our training entered the room, looked me up and down, and said, "Suits needed to be of conservative cut and color", and proceeded to send me home to change. 

That experience influenced my wardrobe selections for the next 25 years. I had a work uniform of dark, conservative suits and separates. It worked for me and made things easy. Everything was interchangeable (Think: Garanimals for adults) so getting dressed during the week was a breeze and weekend wear consisted of jeans and t-shirts. I never had to think too much about what I was going to wear that day. But more than just making my morning routines easy, my clothes became a large part of my identity - the clothes we wear or the armor we don can say a lot about who we are and our place. And not just how others see us, but how we feel about ourselves.

Now that I no longer have that career – that identity – I find I struggle with how to choose what clothes will represent who and where I am now. Some days I am at a university campus, other days at a horse farm or in a board meeting, so the days of those suits and heels are on hold, at least for now.

When I started exploring my next chapter last year, I set out a simple set of goals and objectives to help guide me (you can take the girl out of consulting, but you can’t take consulting out of the girl). As I take stock of my progress and experiences, I have been pleasantly surprised by some and challenged by others. The clothing struggle is a minor, albeit humorous one, but one that makes tangible the changes I am making and how I feel about and present myself. I haven’t figured it all out yet, but I am getting more comfortable with the many sides of my identity and purpose.

Oh, and while I occasionally look longingly at my fabulous heel collection in the closet, my feet couldn't be happier!