Seven Years Later

Apparently That's How Long It Takes to Reinvent Myself

They say life moves in seven-year seasons.

I first heard that during yoga teacher training, where we talked about the idea that every seven years we transition into a different phase of our lives. Whether that's rooted in science, philosophy, or just a handy way to explain the “seven-year itch,” why we suddenly want a new hairstyle, or maybe even a cross-country move, I can't say for sure.

But when I look back over my own life... it's kind of uncanny how well it fits.

I first started at Inside Information two years after it started, in 1997. (Yes kids, the 1900s.) I was “just the babysitter” and the office was a single room in John and Julie’s split-level ranch, right next to the garage.

Over the years, Inside Info grew in size and employees. And I grew from babysitter to mail processor to survey scanner, to graphic designer and survey results maker. But eventually life took me in a completely different direction. As part of a series of life-changing decisions, I moved from KC back to Iowa, had a baby, and helped my family run a bakery and cafe. So I traded designing mail pieces and surveys for waiting tables, making cakes and more decorated sugar cookies than any human should ever experience.

I spent seven years there. Then, seven years ago this month, life shifted again and I found my way back to Inside Information.

Looking back, I realize I didn't come back as the same person who left. Helping run a small business (and being a parent) teaches you a lot—about customers, relationships, flexibility, and solving problems on the fly. As it turns out, those lessons fit this job pretty well, too.

And now... here we are again. Another seven-year milestone. Another new chapter. This one comes with a new title: Client Success Specialist.

While that's what my new email signature will say, the bigger change isn't the title itself—it's how I get to spend my days.

I’ll be doing less production design and more of the part of my job I've grown to love the most. So that means fewer hours nudging pixels into perfect alignment and instead, more conversations, brainstorming sessions, and monthly project meetings.

It will also provide more opportunities to learn what's happening in your communities before the creative work even begins. More helping clients connect the dots between strategy and execution.

One of the things I've always loved about Inside Information is that we've never wanted to be "just another vendor." Our mission is to be an extension of your team. This transition gives me even more opportunities to do exactly that through forging those relationships, and I'm genuinely excited about where it's leading.

As I was thinking about all of this, I started noticing the number seven everywhere. Maybe it's confirmation bias, or maybe life has a funny sense of humor.

Just a couple of weeks ago I saw my honorary nephew Dre (who was also our donut maker) — he’s technically my nephew's brother, which makes explaining our family tree unnecessarily complicated. Especially since my nephew is the seventh son on his father’s side. Dre is now back in Iowa and brushing up against seven feet tall.

My son, Hunter, has been spending the last few weeks in Iowa and has somehow managed to grow more than another inch himself. At this rate he'll be towering over me before high school starts. Iowa corn isn't the only thing growing this summer.

Maybe that's the real lesson behind these seven-year seasons.

Growth doesn't always announce itself. Most of the time, it's so gradual you barely notice it's happening. Then one day you look around and realize you're standing in a place you couldn't have imagined seven years earlier.

Seven years ago, I was overwhelmingly grateful for the chance to return to a company I loved.

Today, I'm grateful that I get to grow in new ways, work alongside an incredible team, and build even stronger relationships with the clients who make this job so rewarding.

I'm looking forward to what's next—and I hope you'll come along for the ride.