Last month, my youngest, Carter, finished high school. Not one week left, not counting down the days. Actually finished.
After eighteen years of school routines, packed lunches, pick-ups and all the moments that make up raising children, an entire chapter of our lives has closed.
I didn’t expect it to hit me quite the way it did. The last school lunch. The last pick-up. I’m so excited for him, and quietly heartbroken at the same time. Nobody teaches you how to feel both at once.
And it’s given me a moment to reflect on the paths my three children have taken, and everything they’ve taught me along the way.
Flynn has always marched to the beat of his own drum. He has a natural drive to go after what he wants, even when the path looks different from what others might expect. Our role, as parents, has often been about helping him discover what lights him up, then giving him the space and encouragement to pursue it. Watching him has reminded me that sometimes our job isn’t to hand someone a map, but to help them find their own direction.
Taya approached things differently. She has always had a plan, an ability to work out where she wanted to go and the determination to make it happen. Through her, I’ve learned so much about the next generation of women, and how important it is to encourage them to trust their own judgement, make deliberate choices and believe they can shape their own futures. We talk a lot about empowering women, but that work starts long before they walk into a boardroom or build their first business. It starts when we teach them that their ambitions matter, and that they don’t need anyone’s permission to pursue them.
Then there’s Carter, who has always known what he wanted, even when the path towards it was anything but certain. Since he was three years old, his dream has been to play professional rugby and, one day, wear the Wallabies jersey. And he hasn’t let go of it. He keeps putting in the drills, works relentlessly to improve and sticks to the routines it takes to get better. Some of the traits that could make life challenging for him elsewhere – his drive for perfection, his need for consistency and routine – have become strengths in the environment he wants to succeed in.
A while ago I asked Layne Beachley, seven-time world surfing champion, what you do when your child has a dream that big. She told me that at four years old she’d already decided she was going to be world champion. Her advice? Encourage the dream. Whether he ends up playing or not, the likelihood is he’ll find his way into the sport he loves.
That stuck with me. Because it’s not just true for our kids.
Watching each of mine find their own way has reinforced something I believe deeply. There isn’t one right way to build a life. The path that makes perfect sense for one person might be completely wrong for another. Yet so much of what we’re taught, particularly as women, nudges us towards the sensible option, the expected milestones, security over what truly matters to us.
This is where my personal life and my work collide. My business exists for the people who want something different. The ones prepared to question the conventional definition of success and build a life around what matters most to them. Sometimes that means leaving a secure corporate career to build a business. Sometimes it means redefining success, working differently, or having the courage to pursue something other people don’t quite understand.
I don’t believe everyone needs to take a traditional path. I certainly don’t believe everyone needs to take a radical one. I believe we all deserve the freedom to choose the path that’s right for us, not the one that simply makes sense to everyone else.
As my kids head into their next chapters, I’m reminded that our greatest contribution isn’t always to show people the way. Sometimes it’s to help them find the confidence to walk their own.
Because a life that looks different isn’t a life that’s harder or less successful. It might just be a life that’s more authentically yours.
Janine x