Dear Gentle Readers,
There is something we don't talk about enough when we speak about growth: the uncomfortable middle.
We celebrate beginnings. The excitement of a new opportunity, the courage to take the first step, the energy that comes with starting something new. We celebrate endings, too. The promotion, the achievement, the successful transition, the moment when everything finally comes together.
But what about everything in between?
The moments when you have outgrown where you are, yet cannot quite see where you are going. When the familiar no longer feels right, but the unfamiliar feels intimidating. When you know something needs to change, but haven't yet found the words, the confidence, or sometimes even the courage to make it happen.
A few years ago, I found myself in a place I couldn't quite explain. On paper, everything was going well. I had built expertise, earned recognition, received promotions, and was rewarded for the work I did.
I knew my consulting role inside out. I could prepare a client presentation in 15 minutes, deliver solutions almost instinctively, and anticipate customer challenges before they arose. I often joked that I could consult for my clients in my sleep.
But somewhere along the way, the work that had once excited me became predictable. I had reached a ceiling, and although I was doing well, something was missing.
I was thirsty for more, but I couldn't quite articulate what that more looked like. I wanted new challenges, a different kind of fulfilment, and perhaps, most importantly, a better sense of balance. Ironically, my desire for more was beginning to frustrate the very work life balance which I found and was trying to maintain.
Have you ever been in a place where everything looks right from the outside, but something inside you is quietly asking for a change?
That was me.
I knew I had outgrown where I was, but knowing that and doing something about it were two very different things.
Like many women navigating professional spaces, I had to learn that growth doesn't always follow a straight line. Sometimes, it means stepping away from what you have mastered to explore something you have never done before.
And that is exactly what I did.
I took on a fellowship. It was a rewarding experience, and I learned a great deal. However, it gave me the clarity to understand not only what I wanted, but also what I didn't want.
Sometimes, you have to take a different road to realise which direction feels right.
Yet, even with that clarity, one challenge was obvious, I had to start again.
We are often comfortable being recognised for what we already know. We have spent years building credibility, earning trust, and establishing ourselves as experts. There is a certain confidence that comes with knowing your subject, being the person others turn to, and having the answers.
But what happens when you step into a space where you are no longer the expert? When you have to ask questions, learn new things, and perhaps even make mistakes in front of people who don't know what you have already achieved?
Are we willing to trade the comfort of being established for the uncertainty of becoming something new?
I had to ask myself that question.
Beginning again does not necessarily mean starting from zero. It means bringing everything you have learned into a new environment. It means allowing your experience to travel with you, even when your title, role or responsibilities change.
For some women, it may mean entering technology without a traditional technical background. For others, it may mean moving from technical expertise into leadership, building a business, returning to work after a break, or finally pursuing an ambition that has been waiting patiently in the background.
Whatever the transition looks like, one thing remains true: we cannot always wait until we feel completely ready.
Sometimes courage is simply taking the next step while still carrying the questions.
And perhaps that is what we need to remind ourselves more often: uncertainty does not disqualify us from moving forward.
While navigating my own journey of beginning again, I had the opportunity to meet the women of Black Women in Tech DACH. I remember admitting how limited my professional network was at the time. Ronke challenged me to do something about it. She didn't just offer advice; she immediately introduced me to two contacts and encouraged me to start building those connections.
Looking back, I realise how much I needed this community myself.
I needed women I could talk to, women who understood the nuances of navigating professional spaces, and women with whom I could share both my ambitions and my uncertainties without having to explain every detail.
There is a particular kind of confidence that comes from being in a room where you feel understood. I drew strength from those connections, from the conversations, the encouragement, and the realisation that I wasn't the only one figuring things out.
And as my confidence grew, so did the opportunities.
I found myself interviewing with companies like Amazon, Microsoft, and Google, before eventually deciding to stay right where I was. A journey may take you through unexpected doors, ,not necessarily to lead you somewhere else, but to help you recognise where you truly want to be.
What I learned during that period of transitioning from the middle was the delicate balance between patience, confidence, acceptance, and boldness. I had to learn to embrace uncertainty while allowing myself to feel the excitement of new possibilities. I discovered that the two can coexist: the fear of the unknown and the thrill of what might lie ahead.
Community gives us something that individual ambition cannot always provide: perspective & support.
Leaning on another person's support helps us recognise possibilities we had not considered for ourselves. A simple conversation can open a door and give us the confidence to take a step we have been postponing.
This is one of the reasons community building has become so meaningful to me.
As we prepare for the Black Women in Tech DACH 2026 event on Nov 20th in Berlin, I find myself returning to this idea of the uncomfortable middle.
Our theme, "Navigating What's Next," resonates deeply with me because it acknowledges something we don't always give ourselves permission to say: we don't have to have everything figured out.
What does the next chapter of our careers look like? especially in the AI world. How do we remain open to opportunities we cannot yet see? How do we navigate change without losing sight of who we are? And how can we support one another as we find our way?
These are not questions with one-size-fits-all answers. They are conversations worth having together.
On 20 November, we will bring women across career stages and professional backgrounds into one room for an evening of conversations, connection, and empowerment.
Through our keynote, main panel, interactive empowerment session, and networking opportunities, we hope to create a space where women can reflect, exchange ideas, and leave with new perspectives on what is possible.
Not because we will have all the answers, but because sometimes the most valuable thing we can offer one another is the reminder that we don't have to figure everything out alone.
And who knows? A conversation that evening might be the beginning of someone's next chapter.
If you find yourself in the uncomfortable middle right now, I want to leave you with this:
You are allowed to change your mind. You are allowed to outgrow old ambitions. You are allowed to start again, even when others don't understand why.
You are allowed to be experienced and uncertain, confident and curious, accomplished and still becoming.
Your next chapter does not need to look like anyone else's. You don't need to have the entire journey figured out to take the next step.
And you certainly don't have to walk that journey alone.
Sometimes, the courage to begin again is the most important thing we bring into the room.
I hope to see you in Berlin. Let's navigate what's next, together.
With gratitude,
Chioma