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Most of us are very familiar with our inner critic.We know exactly what it sounds like. We know its favourite lines. And we know how quickly it shows up when we try to do something new at work or in life.You’re not ready. You’re going to make a fool of yourself. Who do you think you are?For many professional women, this voice becomes the background noise of everyday life. It shapes decisions, keeps ambitions small and quietly chips away at confidence.&nbsp;But what many people don’t realise is this: the inner critic is rarely alone.There is usually another voice present. Quieter. Less dramatic. Easier to miss.I like to call it the inner champion.<h3>1. Two voices, one decision </h3>I first became aware of my own inner champion during my coach training in 2022.We were doing an exercise about inner voices, and I volunteered to be coached in front of the group. The issue I brought was one that had been circling in my head for months: When will I feel ready to call myself a coach?I was already in the training, already practising, already doing the work. But a part of me kept thinking: Not yet. You need more experience. More qualifications. More PROOF.My tutor asked me to listen for the different voices that appeared when I thought about stepping into that identity.The first one was familiar. A strict, demanding voice that pushed me to do better and never quite let me rest. I recognised her from therapy. She became known as Miss P (Miss Perfect) – my inner critic.But there was another voice too. Softer. Steadier. It said:You can do this, Carmel. You can do anything you put your mind to.When we explored where that voice came from, the answer surprised me.It was my maternal grandmother.&nbsp;She had always believed in me. Quietly, consistently. Her message had never been dramatic. It was simply: Do your best.She died the year before I moved to Madrid, but her voice – and her belief in me – stayed with me.&nbsp;<figure id="figure-y3og6avsdmlp08vmx" class=""><img id="y3og6avsdmlp08vmx" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/5t4dwqyiMnO9z97O06a6LBwh1d238i8Ug8l1338NdhaNmbCdVaspPkGyhg7MIe0e.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/5t4dwqyiMnO9z97O06a6LBwh1d238i8Ug8l1338NdhaNmbCdVaspPkGyhg7MIe0e.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure>(This is such a random photo but it's the best one I can find of Grandma - this is my first meal at home after 9 months backpacking around the world aged 19. Grandma and I are clearly both very happy to be reunited 💖 My little brother is less convinced &nbsp;🤣).&nbsp;<h3>2. Why the inner critic is louder </h3>If we all have both voices, why does the inner critic usually dominate?Partly, it’s how our brains are wired. We’re built to notice threats more than encouragement. Psychologists call this the negativity bias — the brain’s tendency to focus more on what might go wrong than what is going well.The critic feels useful. Protective. Sensible. Especially for high-achieving professionals who have built their careers on standards, performance and responsibility.The inner champion, by contrast, can sound naïve. Unrealistic. Even embarrassing.And for many women, that voice has been quietly discouraged over the years. We’re taught to be humble, to downplay our achievements, not to appear too full of ourselves. Over time, the critic becomes the default setting. The champion fades into the background.<h3>3. What the inner champion voice actually sounds like </h3>One of the things I love about working on these voices with clients is how different everyone’s champion voice is.It’s rarely a motivational speaker. It’s rarely dramatic. And it’s almost never cheesy.For one client, her champion voice took the form of Elsa from Frozen.Not the dramatic, ice-castle moment. But the quieter message underneath: Let it go. Good enough is good enough.She had spent years in a high-pressure environment where perfection was the baseline. That Elsa voice became a way of reminding herself that she didn’t have to carry everything all the time.For another client, a former Netflix employee, her champion voice was shaped by that company’s co-founder, Reed Hastings. She’d been deeply inspired by his leadership style and belief in people.Her champion voice sounded simple, almost understated:You’re capable. Trust your instincts. If it doesn’t work, you’ll adjust.No drama. No overthinking. Just calm confidence. And that was exactly what she needed to build confidence in her next career move.<h3>4. The difference it makes at work and in life</h3>The inner critic and the inner champion don’t usually disagree about facts.They disagree about interpretation.The critic says: You’ve never done this before. You’ll probably fail.The champion says: You’ve never done this before. You’ll learn as you go.Same situation. Completely different outcome.When the critic is in charge, we stay small. We delay decisions. We wait for the perfect moment that never comes. We stay in jobs we’ve outgrown or hold back from opportunities that could stretch us.When the champion is allowed a seat at the table, things shift. Not overnight. Not dramatically. But enough to create momentum and a different quality of decision-making.&nbsp;<figure id="figure-cymz2amlmnmlp10078"><img id="cymz2amlmnmlp10078" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/614012698/photo/i-am-a-strong-woman.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=xi73m0Xv6hQ4b9mAWJnfGTOYa0MJVTujRDmDwn5g4lo=" alt="I am a strong woman!" title="I am a strong woman!" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/614012698/photo/i-am-a-strong-woman.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=xi73m0Xv6hQ4b9mAWJnfGTOYa0MJVTujRDmDwn5g4lo=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>&nbsp;5. How to strengthen your inner champion </h3>Your inner champion isn’t something you invent. It’s something you recognise and strengthen.Just like any voice, it gets louder the more you tune into it.For me, that meant paying attention to the way Grandma used to speak to me. The calm confidence in her tone. The sense that things would work out because I would figure them out.Now, when I’m about to do something that scares me — like stepping into a new professional chapter, or delivering my first ever Facebook Live — I try to dial up the volume of her voice.Not the critic’s.Hers.And this week, I’ll be doing exactly that.On 18 February 2026 at 13:00 (Madrid time), I’ll be hosting my first ever Facebook Live inside the IWBB community. And I can already feel both voices preparing their speeches.The critic is sharpening her lines. But this time, the champion gets the microphone.<h3>6. A practical way to fuel your inner champion </h3>There’s also a very practical side to this work.Our brains have a natural bias towards what went wrong. Psychologists sometimes refer to the reticular activating system — the part of the brain that filters what we notice. If we’re not careful, it becomes very good at spotting mistakes, awkward moments and perceived failures, and very bad at noticing what went right.In other words, the inner critic gets a steady stream of evidence. The inner champion… not so much.That’s why I often suggest clients create what I call a “trumpet folder” — a place where you actively collect small wins, kind words, positive feedback and moments you felt proud of yourself.It doesn’t have to be elaborate. It could be:<ul><li>a folder in your email</li><li>a note on your phone</li><li>a page in a notebook</li><li>an album of screenshot</li><li>or a physical folder on your desk</li></ul><figure id="figure-r8my0fbtujmlp0ydex" class=""><img id="r8my0fbtujmlp0ydex" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/dzv7cMluzdDHtHPiQ2a45owlKAgiCnbrLdtWh7FlheiQzvpg6Zvbi3OKROgTwqvh.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/dzv7cMluzdDHtHPiQ2a45owlKAgiCnbrLdtWh7FlheiQzvpg6Zvbi3OKROgTwqvh.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure>I even have a weekly reminder in my calendar to do this. And if I’m honest, I still don’t always manage it. What I do have is a simple note on my phone where I jot down small wins — a kind message from a client, a session that felt meaningful, a special parenting moment.Nothing dramatic. Just evidence.Over time, those small pieces of evidence give the inner champion something to work with. Instead of speaking in vague encouragement, it can say:Remember that session that went well? Remember the feedback you got last month? Remember how you handled that situation?The critic collects its own data automatically. The champion usually needs a bit of help.<h3>7. A short reflection </h3>If you pause for a moment, you may be able to hear your own champion voice.It might sound like:<ul><li>a parent or grandparent</li><li>a teacher who believed in you</li><li>a friend who always has your back</li><li>a former boss or mentor</li><li>a younger version of yourself</li><li>or simply a quieter, steadier part of you </li></ul>Ask yourself:<ul><li>When have I felt most encouraged in my life?</li><li>Whose voice gave me confidence?</li><li>What does my inner champion actually say? </li></ul>You don’t have to invent this voice.You just might not be listening yet.<h3>8. A gentle invitation </h3>If your inner critic has been running the show for a while, you’re not alone. Many of the professional women I work with arrive in exactly that place — capable, experienced, but held back by self-doubt or the fear of getting it wrong or upsetting others or the status quo.&nbsp;Coaching isn’t about silencing the critic completely. It’s about strengthening the champion as a natural counterbalance.If you’d like to explore what your own inner champion sounds like — and how to give it more space in your decisions — I’d love to support you.I offer a free 30-minute discovery call where we can work on it together.You can book a time that suits you here: 👉 https://calendly.com/carmel-drake/discovery-callBecause the critic will always have something to say. The question is: which voice do you want running your life?

Pipe down, inner critic. Speak up, inner champion

Rear view of simple workspace with laptop on wooden table at home.

January has a particular energy. The new year, a clean diary, all that talk of fresh starts. And yet for many, the return to work feels exactly the same as it did in November. Same inbox. Same meetings. Same low-level frustration you’ve learnt to live with.You don’t hate your job. You’re good at it. You’re respected. But something has shifted, and you can feel it.<h3>&nbsp; 1. My unexpected return to an old life</h3> My own return to work after Reyes this year was slightly unusual. I was asked to take on a translation project – over 8,000 words. Not small, not huge. Just enough to properly step back into a world I lived in for 13 years.For the first ten years, I genuinely loved it. It played to my analytical brain. I enjoyed the problem-solving, finding the right word in the right tone for the right context. I still do. There’s comfort in it.You know how long it will take. You can plan your time, measure your output and see progress clearly. There's a real sense of satisfaction in sending the finished document back to the client. And when I started the job last week, I felt myself relax. It felt safe. Familiar. A part of me thought, Here we go. I know how to do this.<figure id="figure-shkh46pautmkl1i0ei"><img id="shkh46pautmkl1i0ei" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1254993875/photo/cropped-image-of-business-woman-hand-working-laptop-computer-in-home-office.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=dXlt5Sy-zVNYNHJDWD43vAibnweAqxEoDhO8QZPLtMY=" alt="Cropped image of business woman hand working laptop computer in home office" title="Cropped image of business woman hand working laptop computer in home office" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1254993875/photo/cropped-image-of-business-woman-hand-working-laptop-computer-in-home-office.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=dXlt5Sy-zVNYNHJDWD43vAibnweAqxEoDhO8QZPLtMY=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>2. The knowing that never quite goes away </h3>But here’s the truth I’ve always known: translation was never my forever job.Even when I enjoyed it. Even when I was good at it. Even when it paid well. I knew.And you probably do too. That quiet voice that says, I want to do something different. You might ignore it, rationalise it, tell yourself to be grateful – but it doesn’t go away.For years, I told myself I’d make a change “one day”. After the next job. After the summer. Once things were calmer. When I'd chosen a coach training provider.Then my second daughter was born and something clicked. I realised I was already halfway through my working life. All those “one days” might never come. If I didn’t act now, I probably never would.What's more, with two children in tow, my priorities were very different. Working nights, weekends, “from anywhere in the world” – suddenly didn’t fit.So I did something that had been sitting in my body for years. I retrained. At the age of 42 and a half. Not to do something sensible or predictable, but as a coach – a role that certainly plays to my real strengths: listening, empathy, critical thinking, challenge, working with people. It’s been a much bumpier, less predictable ride than I ever had as a translator – and honestly, there are days I miss the certainty. But despite that, I now know I’m on the right path.&nbsp;<h3>&nbsp; 3. The moment it became clear </h3>As the translation days went by, something shifted. Quietly. I realised how much I missed people. The conversations, the energy, the depth, the “aha” moments.Coaching isn’t tidy. You can’t measure progress in word count. There’s no formula, no hourly output. And yet, when I look at my values – connection, courage, making a difference and nature – coaching fulfils three of them, and sometimes all four when I run walking sessions in Retiro. Translation, for me, fulfils none.That doesn’t make it a bad job. It just means it stopped being my job. And that’s the distinction many struggle to make.<h3>4.&nbsp;What it looks like when you do listen </h3>I see this with clients all the time.One woman came to me as an architect. Highly skilled, super successful – but bursting with a creative energy that had nowhere to go. Through our work together, she slowly gave herself permission to explore that side of her. She’s now illustrating children’s books one day a week. It didn’t replace her career overnight, but it reconnected her with a part of herself she’d quietly parked for years.Another client was a senior finance executive with two decades of experience behind her. She didn’t want to throw that away – but she no longer felt aligned with the sector she was in. She ended up moving to work for a Fundación (a philanthropic organisation in Spain), channelling everything she knew about finance into something she actually cared about. Same skills. Completely different meaning.Neither of these women “blew up” their lives.They listened. They explored. They made considered shifts. Small at first. Then braver. That’s what growth actually looks like.<figure id="figure-1l84yrm1gmkl1m73z"><img id="1l84yrm1gmkl1m73z" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1138167292/photo/skillful-young-woman-in-apron-painting-pottery-at-workshop.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=OpofWKMKBaQ7zy18B4edOYaotLxV_co0wc8qvGjdpng=" alt="Skillful young woman in apron painting pottery at workshop" title="Skillful young woman in apron painting pottery at workshop" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1138167292/photo/skillful-young-woman-in-apron-painting-pottery-at-workshop.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=OpofWKMKBaQ7zy18B4edOYaotLxV_co0wc8qvGjdpng=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>5. Why you stay (even when you know)</h3>If you’re honest, you probably know you’ve outgrown your role. But knowing doesn’t automatically lead to change.Because you’re comfortable. Competent. Paid well. People respect you. Change feels irresponsible. You’ve invested years here. You don’t know what you’d do instead.So you stay. And you tell yourself it’s fine. It’s not that bad. Plenty of people have it worse. All true – and also irrelevant.Because the real question isn’t, Is it terrible? It’s, Is it still right for me?<h3>&nbsp; 6. The danger of doing nothing </h3>January is when this thought creeps in: If I make no changes, then this year will be: Same work. Same frustrations. Same compromises. Not forever. Just… again.And that’s where the quiet panic lives. Not in dramatic career moves, but in the slow realisation that time is passing and you’re not using it how you want to.<h3>&nbsp; 7. I’m not telling you to quit </h3>Let me be clear. I am not suggesting you quit your job, retrain as a yoga teacher or book a one-way flight in the January sales. This isn’t about impulsive change.It’s about stopping the shutdown. That moment when the knowing voice appears and you silence it. Again.What if, instead, you listened? Just a little. What if you explored what feels heavy, what drains you, what lights you up, what you secretly envy in others, what you’d do if fear wasn’t running the show?With me. Or on your own. Curiosity, not action, is the first step.<figure id="figure-mt5smrnevmkl1p64f"><img id="mt5smrnevmkl1p64f" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1924410005/photo/focusing-on-a-forest.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=hDxonW3obGGLR4-LGZRp2nTQheFmW5gQoukn7Eotimw=" alt="Focusing on a forest" title="Focusing on a forest" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1924410005/photo/focusing-on-a-forest.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=hDxonW3obGGLR4-LGZRp2nTQheFmW5gQoukn7Eotimw=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>8. A question for January </h3>As you settle back into work, ask yourself: if I change nothing, how do I feel about that? And if I made one small change? Or two?Not a life overhaul. Just movement. That’s often where clarity begins.<h3>9. A gentle invitation </h3>If you’re in that in-between space – not desperate, not fulfilled, just quietly restless – you’re exactly the kind of person I work with.I offer a free 30-minute discovery call where we can explore what’s really going on for you and what you might want from the next chapter. No pressure. No selling. Just clear thinking.Book here if it feels right: 👉<a data-mce-href="https://calendly.com/carmel-drake/discovery-call" href="https://calendly.com/carmel-drake/discovery-call"> https://calendly.com/carmel-drake/discovery-call</a>Because you don’t have to hate your job to outgrow it. And you don’t have to leap to start moving.

When You’ve Outgrown Your Job — But You’re Not Ready to Admit It

Earlier this month, I led a workshop for <a data-mce-href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/aidaramosmartinez/" href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/aidaramosmartinez/">Aída Ramos's</a> "New(ish) in Madrid" community on identity - and the conversation highlighted just how complex it becomes when you move abroad.A room full of women from different countries, careers and cultures sat together.&nbsp; Our stories were different, but the same themes kept surfacing.You build a life - a career you’re proud of, friendships that sustain you, roles that make sense… and then you move abroad and everything changes. All at once. Your routines, your networks, your status, even the way you introduce yourself.You arrive in a new city and suddenly you’re not sure who you are anymore.That’s the quiet cost of international moves that often gets overlooked.<h3>1. The identity gap no one talks about </h3>What came up again and again was this: so much of our identity is tied to what we do for a living.<figure id="figure-wczsiagm9vemi7lsawz" class=""><img id="wczsiagm9vemi7lsawz" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2223235819/photo/indian-entrepreneur-manager-businesswoman-using-pc-for-communication-learning-at-workplace.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=uIwlG7ObC2nWn3-OBB3GBx2YND0YIPeuj5YLcjRrU3g=" alt="Indian entrepreneur manager businesswoman using pc for communication, learning at workplace. Focused latin hispanic young business woman working on laptop computer sitting at office workplace desk" title="Indian entrepreneur manager businesswoman using pc for communication, learning at workplace. Focused latin hispanic young business woman working on laptop computer sitting at office workplace desk" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2223235819/photo/indian-entrepreneur-manager-businesswoman-using-pc-for-communication-learning-at-workplace.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=uIwlG7ObC2nWn3-OBB3GBx2YND0YIPeuj5YLcjRrU3g=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure>Back home, your work gave you rhythm and purpose. It told you where to be, what you were good at and how you contributed. It shaped how you saw yourself - and how others saw you.When you relocate, especially as an accompanying partner, that part can disappear overnight.You move for your partner’s role. And whilst everyone, yourself included, assumes the time off will feel like a gift, it rarely does. Your visa doesn’t allow you to work locally. And even if you can work remotely, that sense of being cut off from the team - from your in-person professional identity - hits harder than expected.A client said to me recently: “I know I should feel lucky - I don’t have to work here, and part of me enjoys the break. But without my job, I don’t recognise myself.”&nbsp; She’s not alone. Many of the women I coach carry a quiet guilt: “I should be grateful… so why do I feel unanchored?”Because work isn’t just work. It's identity.<h3>2. What identity is really made of</h3>Identity isn’t one thing — it has four parts:<ul><li>What we do -&nbsp;the routines, responsibilities and work that structure our days (e.g. your job, daily rhythm).</li><li>What we value - the principles that guide us (e.g. independence, contribution, creativity, stability etc.).</li><li>Who we are in relation to others - the roles we play (e.g. partner, parent, friend, colleague).</li><li>What we’re good (or not so good) at - the strengths and skills that shape our confidence (e.g. communicating well, organising life, making friends easily — or struggling with admin, uncertainty, or social situations in a new language).</li></ul>When you move abroad, all four can shift at the same time.<figure id="figure-bpfs83q67smiczzd4j"><img id="bpfs83q67smiczzd4j" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1358643526/photo/four-puzzle-pieces-standing-3d.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=t3RDXNkuIuIUrS_f3RDj8OA3Oxb4nSxCXyyNxFl8K_4=" alt="Four puzzle pieces standing 3D" title="Four puzzle pieces standing 3D" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1358643526/photo/four-puzzle-pieces-standing-3d.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=t3RDXNkuIuIUrS_f3RDj8OA3Oxb4nSxCXyyNxFl8K_4=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure>A change in one area is manageable; a change in all four can feel like the ground has quietly moved beneath you.This is why the feeling of “I don’t recognise myself anymore” is so common — and so unsettling.<h3>3. Even when life looks better, identity can still wobble</h3>There’s also the cohort of women and families who move to Madrid on digital nomad visas - many from the US. On paper, the move brings clear benefits:<ul><li>lower cost of living</li><li>safer neighbourhoods</li><li>brilliant food</li><li>gorgeous weather</li><li>public transport that actually works</li></ul><figure id="figure-f59u9ncormiczqzs3" class=""><img id="f59u9ncormiczqzs3" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1484854336/photo/woman-in-el-retiro-park-in-madrid.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=-sQuO6od72B3bZD6ITgC9DOStD5VDCbvRWvdUuETZUk=" alt="Woman in El Retiro Park in Madrid" title="Woman in El Retiro Park in Madrid" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 30%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="50%" data-positiony="30%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1484854336/photo/woman-in-el-retiro-park-in-madrid.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=-sQuO6od72B3bZD6ITgC9DOStD5VDCbvRWvdUuETZUk=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 30%;"></figure>And yet, the identity challenges remain. The overwhelm of building a new community. The lack of family support. The cultural surprises that catch you off guard.Like discovering there’s no nursery provision in August, or the shift from car-based life to buses and metros, or realising your neighbours operate on an entirely different timetable.These things aren’t problems - they’re just different. But difference shapes identity.<h3>4. Why roles alone aren’t enough</h3>Another theme from the workshop was the recognition that roles like wife and mother may be deeply meaningful — but they aren’t enough on their own.Most women need something that’s theirs. Something that gives a sense of agency, curiosity or competence.&nbsp;And it doesn’t have to be a job. It can be:<ul><li>a running club</li><li>a yoga class</li><li>a language course</li><li>a volunteering role</li><li>the New(ish) monthly meet-ups</li><li>a creative project</li><li>a community you see regularly </li></ul>Something consistent. Something that reminds you who you are outside your relationships. Something that gives you your own space - even for an hour a week.The relief in the room was noticeable when women said this out loud. The recognition was immediate: Wanting something for yourself isn’t selfish. It’s healthy. It’s human.Identity isn’t fixed. It’s shaped. And reshapable.<h3>5. A new chapter - yours to write </h3>I ended the workshop with a quote from Michelle Obama:“If you don’t get out there and define yourself, you’ll be quickly and inaccurately defined by others.”Moving abroad gives you a blank page - whether you asked for one or not. But a blank page isn’t a demand to reinvent yourself. It’s an invitation to pause, reassess and redefine what matters within the reality of your situation: your visa, your childcare responsibilities, your partner’s schedule, your energy.These constraints are real. And yet, within them, identity can evolve.It’s still your chapter to write.<h3>6. Reflection </h3>A few questions to ask yourself this month:<ul><li>Which parts of my identity have felt “on pause” since moving abroad?</li><li>What do I miss most about the person I was before the move?</li><li>Which routines or communities here could support the identity I want to grow into?</li><li>What’s one small thing I could do weekly — just for me?</li></ul>Small questions. Big clarity.&nbsp;<h3>7. A gentle invitation </h3>If reading this brings up something for you - if you’re feeling unanchored or unsure who you are without your old career or community - you don’t have to figure it out alone.I offer a free 30-minute discovery call where we can explore what’s feeling off, what you’d love to rebuild and how to start shaping a life here that feels like it belongs to you again.Book a time that suits you: <a data-mce-href="https://calendly.com/carmel-drake/discovery-call" href="https://calendly.com/carmel-drake/discovery-call">https://calendly.com/carmel-drake/discovery-call</a>Identity isn’t something that just happens. It’s something we shape - through reflection, intention and small, steady steps.

The Woman Behind the Move: Redefining Yourself After an International Relocation

Alone we’re weak,together we’re strong

During my first few years in Madrid, I worked in an office. Every morning around 11, we’d head down to a local bar for breakfast — colleagues chatting over coffee and pinchos of tortilla. I’d nod along to conversations I half-understood, playing what I can only describe as conversation tennis: turning my head from one speaker to the other, desperate to follow every word (without success) and rarely joining in. Everyone was warm and welcoming, yet I felt like I was watching my own life from the outside. I laughed in the right places and yet I still had that deep sense of being unseen — like a friendly hanger-on rather than a real participant.That’s the paradox of living abroad. You can be included, yet feel invisible.I recently listened to an episode of The Imperfects — a podcast hosted by three Australian blokes who have honest, often funny conversations about the struggles and imperfections of life. The August episode, “<a data-mce-href="https://podcasts.apple.com/es/podcast/dr-emily-were-longing-for-belonging/id1476501557?i=1000720507091" href="https://podcasts.apple.com/es/podcast/dr-emily-were-longing-for-belonging/id1476501557?i=1000720507091">We’re Longing for Belonging</a>” explores our fundamental human need to feel part of something. In it, Dr Emily Musgrove, the show’s resident psychologist, explains that belonging isn’t just a pleasant emotion; it’s essential. As Maslow’s hierarchy of needs reminds us, once our basic physical and safety needs are met, belonging sits at the very core of what it means to be human. It shapes our sense of identity, self-worth and wellbeing. Listening to Dr Emily, I realised how easy it is — especially for those of us living abroad — to mistake fitting in for truly belonging.<figure id="figure-obbgwfhr5mh0bc1rk"><img id="obbgwfhr5mh0bc1rk" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/3b5JJ1ZWt54IrbdVe36g8GbpyjdgYuYpFEUxK9mLr6Z8xz4zx132CBvlsL3DBaCU.png" alt="Maslows hierarchy of needs, 3d rendering" title="Maslows hierarchy of needs, 3d rendering" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 50%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="50%" data-positiony="50%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/3b5JJ1ZWt54IrbdVe36g8GbpyjdgYuYpFEUxK9mLr6Z8xz4zx132CBvlsL3DBaCU.png" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 50%;"></figure>For many women who’ve relocated to Madrid for their partner’s job, that distinction is painfully real. You’ve given up your career, your social circle, perhaps even your sense of purpose — and now you find yourself in a life that looks lovely on paper, yet feels slightly hollow. It’s a kind of quiet loneliness that doesn’t come from being alone, but from not feeling like you belong.<h3>1. Belonging vs Fitting In</h3>The Imperfects episode captured this difference perfectly. Fitting in is about adapting — changing yourself to be accepted. Belonging is about being accepted as you are. When we chase fitting in, we risk abandoning parts of ourselves in the process. True belonging requires vulnerability — letting people see us, even when we’re unsure if we’ll be accepted.For anyone who’s moved abroad, this lands hard. When your surroundings, language and daily rhythm all shift, it’s easy to lose sight of who you are and what anchors you. That identity loss after moving can leave you searching for belonging in places that never quite feel secure.<h3>2. Belonging and Connection: Similar but Not the Same</h3>Listening to the podcast also made me reflect on the difference between connection and belonging. Connection is about relationship — the conversations, shared laughs and fleeting moments of understanding that remind us we’re not alone. Belonging runs deeper. It’s the quiet certainty that we’re accepted as we are, that we’ve found a place where we truly fit.You can have plenty of connection without ever feeling belonging — but you can’t have belonging without connection. When I first moved abroad, I built plenty of connections: dinners out, weekends away, hikes in the sierra (it helped that I was in my late 20s). But real belonging took longer. It required time, vulnerability and mutual acceptance.<h3>3. The In-Between World</h3>Once you’ve lived abroad, belonging becomes more complex. You start to straddle two worlds. When you visit your country of origin, you realise you’ve changed — you see things differently, you don’t quite fit the old mould. But in your adopted country, you’re still marked as different.It’s a strange kind of limbo — rooted in two places, but never fully at home in either. At first, I found this unsettling. Now, I genuinely see it as richness. Living between cultures gives you perspective, empathy and adaptability. It’s taught me that belonging abroad isn’t about geography. It’s about authenticity — being grounded in who you are, wherever you are.&nbsp; <figure id="figure-3kf7se6tjqmh0bl1nt"><img id="3kf7se6tjqmh0bl1nt" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2192606526/photo/feet-straddling-the-prime-meridian-at-greenwich-london.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=2Qg20uwjoBnRQUnGQQPvGSqRscRRKurnc8lngQ6vHWQ=" alt="Feet straddling the Prime Meridian at Greenwich, London." title="Feet straddling the Prime Meridian at Greenwich, London." class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2192606526/photo/feet-straddling-the-prime-meridian-at-greenwich-london.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=2Qg20uwjoBnRQUnGQQPvGSqRscRRKurnc8lngQ6vHWQ=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>4. How to Rebuild Belonging Abroad</h3>If you’re feeling on the sidelines of your own life right now, these ideas might help:<ul><li>Start small. Look for micro-moments of connection: a familiar face at the café, a short chat at school pick-up.</li><li>Lean into your difference. Your accent, background and story make you interesting. Belonging doesn’t require sameness.</li><li>Challenge your narrative. If your inner voice says “I don’t belong here”, notice it — and ask whether it’s really true.</li><li>Create belonging for others. When you make others feel seen, you build genuine community.</li><li>Stay patient. True belonging takes time. It grows through consistency, not intensity.</li></ul>These small steps may not change everything overnight, but they lay the groundwork for how to feel at home abroad in a way that’s authentic and sustainable.<h3>5. Reflection</h3>I’d love to invite you to pause and reflect for a moment. Next time you're out for a walk or in the shower, have a think about:<ul><li>What does belonging mean to you?</li><li>When have you felt most at home in yourself or your surroundings?</li><li>What helps you feel part of something bigger?</li><li>How has living abroad shaped your understanding of belonging?</li><li>And what might “home” mean to you now?</li></ul>These aren’t quick questions. But reflecting on them is often the first step towards rebuilding a stronger sense of belonging — both to place and to self.<h3>6. A Gentle Invitation</h3>If you’d like support to reconnect with yourself and shape what this next chapter looks like for you, my Belonging Abroad coaching program might be a good place to start.It’s a 4-session one-to-one program designed to help you rebuild confidence, find clarity and start creating a life here that feels genuinely yours. The programme is currently available for €299.If you’re curious, the best next step is to book a free 30-minute discovery call - a chance to talk about where you are now, what you’d like to change and how coaching could help.<a data-mce-href="https://calendly.com/carmel-drake/discovery-call" href="https://calendly.com/carmel-drake/discovery-call">Click here</a> to book a time that suits you.&nbsp;Because belonging isn’t something that just happens. It’s something we build — through connection, authenticity and small, intentional steps 💪🏼✨

Belonging Abroad: Why Life Can Feel Lonely — and What You Can Do About It

I share my reflections on my last twelve months to inspire you to look back on yours; and to plan for the year ahead.As the year draws to a close, it's a perfect time to pause and take stock of how far we've come. The busyness of life, coupled with our tendency to focus on what's still left to do, often makes us overlook our achievements and learnings, and even take them for granted. But taking a moment to reflect can be incredibly rewarding. Here’s a glimpse into my year—not as a blueprint, but as an invitation for you to consider your own journey.<h3>Reflecting on 2024 </h3>This year has been full of personal and professional milestones for me, and each one holds a story. I've selected a few to share here:1️⃣&nbsp; Moving into Our Renovated Home: The reno itself was a chaotic and highly stressful experience, and the move was hectic, but six months into living in our new home and it now feels worth it! What big changes or projects have you tackled this year? 2️⃣ Youngest Starting School: This was a bittersweet milestone. Inevitably it was more of a big deal for me than it was for her. I'm not a huge fan of babies so I've been looking forward to her reaching this stage but now my baby is such a big girl! What transitions have defined your year?3️⃣ Logging 100+ Coaching Hours (in Two Languages!): Supporting more clients and working in both Spanish and English has given me a real confidence boost and sense of pride and satisfaction. And I'll be sitting the final exam to obtain my ICF ACC accreditation in January. How have you stretched yourself professionally? 4️⃣ Delivering My First Webinars: Transforming nerves into opportunities to connect and grow has been terrifying. But receiving positive feedback and witnessing the shifts participants make in such a short space of time has been wonderful! How have you stepped out of your comfort zone?5️⃣ Developing A Group Coaching Program for Expat Spouses: Creating, getting feedback on and preparing to launch something new for a community I deeply care about has been emotional and exciting. What new initiatives have you been working on? Reflecting doesn’t mean only celebrating wins—it’s also about acknowledging learnings. After working on my own as a translator for so long, one lesson I’ve learnt this year is the power of collaboration, which leads me to…<h3>My Word for 2025: Networking</h3>For years, networking was something I absolutely dreaded. Rocking up to a venue where I knew no-one to work the room always felt smarmy and very un-me. But this year, I discovered the joy! Teaming up with Emma at <a data-mce-href="https://www.momentum-coaching.co.uk/" href="https://www.momentum-coaching.co.uk/">Momentum Coaching</a> and attending more events both in person and online through the <a data-mce-href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/iwbbabroad" href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/iwbbabroad">IWBB in Madrid</a> and <a data-mce-href="https://www.igcompany.co.uk/" href="https://www.igcompany.co.uk/">In Good Company</a>, has proved fun and incredibly valuable. In fact, I now have plans to organise networking events of my own together with Samara of <a data-mce-href="https://madridconpeques.com/" href="https://madridconpeques.com/">Madridconpeques</a> fame in 2025! Watch this space for details...<h3>Looking Ahead to 2025 </h3>In the meantime, here are a few of my goals for the year ahead:<ul><li>Launching my Group Coaching Program for Expat Spouses in Q1 2025.</li><li>Running more webinars and getting to grips with email marketing to offer genuine on-going value to existing and potential clients.</li><li>Being organised and focused enough throughout the year to take six weeks off over the summer to be with my girls during their school holidays (well half of them...yes, we really do have 11 week summer holidays in Spain!).</li></ul><h3>Your Turn: Reflect and Refocus </h3>Now it’s over to you. As you read this, I invite you to grab a pen, pour your favourite drink and take some time to reflect, even if it's only 15 minutes on your commute. Look back through your calendar, photo reel, journal (if you keep one 😇) for inspiration and reminders of what you've actually done.&nbsp;Here are a few prompts to get you started:<ul><li>What’s the one achievement from 2024 that you’re most proud of?</li><li>What was the biggest challenge you faced and what did it teach you?</li><li>What’s one thing you want to focus on in 2025? </li></ul>If you’re ready to set meaningful goals for the year ahead, let’s talk. I’d love to help you make 2025 your most fulfilling year yet. <a data-mce-href="https://calendly.com/carmel-drake/discovery-call" href="https://calendly.com/carmel-drake/discovery-call">Book a discovery call now</a> for the new year and let’s explore what’s possible.And if you want to find out more about the programs you could embark on with me, check out <a data-mce-href="https://carmeldrake.com/work-with-me/timetothink" href="https://carmeldrake.com/work-with-me/timetothink">Time to Think</a>, <a data-mce-href="https://carmeldrake.com/work-with-me/wings-to-fly" href="https://carmeldrake.com/work-with-me/wings-to-fly">Wings to Fly</a> and <a data-mce-href="https://carmeldrake.com/work-with-me/own-your-journey" href="https://carmeldrake.com/work-with-me/own-your-journey">Own Your Journey</a> here. I work together with each client to co-create their coaching program to suit their experience, needs and desires 🫶🏼

From 2024 to 2025: Reflect, Review, Refocus

At the start of 2024, I decided to follow the trend of choosing a single word to guide my year. My word? Play. For me, play is about bringing fun, laughter and experimentation into everyday life – a deliberate attempt to balance out the many responsibilities that come with work, family and adulthood. My progress has not been linear and there's still scope for me to be even more playful, but ten months on, I’m loving the new lightness and energy this focus on play brings to my life.<h3>Why Play Matters</h3>As adults, it’s easy to get stuck in routines and lose the spontaneity we had as children. I chose play as an antidote to the structure and seriousness of everyday responsibilities, and simply to bring a smile to my face. I see this with my clients, too; we often neglect fun in favour of productivity and feel guilty about setting aside time for ourselves. But PLAY IS ESSENTIAL – it gives us energy, boosts creativity, and enhances our well-being.This year, I’ve noticed that even small pockets of play can create a big difference. Making time for a weekly date night with my husband, for example, has been a simple but impactful way to reconnect and have fun. Some weeks, it’s just a walk or a quick drink; other weeks, we try something new, like a gallery or an outdoor activity. These moments remind me that play doesn’t have to be grand – it just needs to be intentional.<h3>Bringing Play Into Work </h3>Another revelation has been that play can be part of my professional life, too. After connecting with a successful coach here in Madrid who emphasises curiosity and fun, I’ve tried to bring a lighter approach to my work. Hosting my first webinar and sharing my face more on social media, for instance, were experiments that pushed me out of my comfort zone and brought a surprising sense of enjoyment.Integrating play into my work doesn’t mean being unprofessional; it’s about allowing room for creativity and embracing a more spontaneous, flexible mindset. I encourage my clients to do the same – to see challenges from a fresh angle and make work feel a little less rigid. In fact, this energy is something I aim to bring into my coaching sessions, showing that personal growth doesn’t have to be all serious and heavy.<h3>Ideas to Be More Playful</h3>If you’re looking to incorporate more play into your own life, start small. Here are a few ideas that have worked for me or that I’m eager to try:Try something creative: Whether it’s book folding, painting, cooking or sewing, exploring a new hobby can really shake things up. For me, a Friday morning workshop at <a data-mce-href="https://www.instagram.com/hollyalbert.art/" href="https://www.instagram.com/hollyalbert.art/">Holly Albert</a>’s studio is the perfect way to disconnect and experiment - Holly is a talented British artist based in Madrid who teaches even the most uncreative amongst us to produce artistic masterpieces!Shift your routine: If your days feel repetitive, even a small change – like switching up your breakfast or taking a new route on your morning walk – can make life feel fresher and more open.Inject play into your day every day: Look for little opportunities for fun. Play a song you love while you're putting your makeup on, have a five-minute dance break or leave a note for a loved one.Let yourself say “yes” more: This doesn’t mean overcommitting but rather giving yourself permission to explore new activities or accept an invitation you’d usually turn down. Play is often about being open to the unknown. &nbsp; By inviting play into our lives, we allow ourselves to experience more freedom and joy, even amid the hustle and bustle of life. So, what’s one playful thing you’ll do this week? Send me a message through the contact form – I’d love to hear your ideas!And if your idea of play involves trying something new, then check out my post from last month: <a data-mce-href="https://carmeldrake.com/blog/doing-something-for-the-first-time" href="https://carmeldrake.com/blog/doing-something-for-the-first-time">Doing Something For the First Time? 🍒</a>

Carmel Drake | Executive & Expat Coach in Madrid

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Pipe down, inner critic. Speak up, inner champion

When You’ve Outgrown Your Job — But You’re Not Ready to A...

The Woman Behind the Move: Redefining Yourself After an I...

Belonging Abroad: Why Life Can Feel Lonely — and What You...

From 2024 to 2025: Reflect, Review, Refocus

Rediscovering Play 🙃