The Path to Transformation: Letting Go to Grow

Charlotte Jukes shares the uncomfortable cost of going all in on her podcast and new coaching work: the identity loss and grief of stepping away from nursing after 37 years. She describes how being a nurse provided instant respect, external validation, competence, certainty, and the comfort of being known, and how leaving forced her to become a beginner again, tolerate uncertainty, and release the need to be liked, understood, or agreed with. 
Charlotte connects this to nervous system safety, explaining how the unfamiliar can trigger fear and resistance, like a pickleball player resisting a coach’s changes. She emphasises integrating—not discarding—past identities, offers a brief guided reflection on releasing and integrating, and reframes grief as a sign of real transformation, inviting listeners in transition to seek support and keep becoming.

00:00 All In Transformation

02:47 Leaving Nursing Identity

04:48 Losing Validation

05:39 Beginner Again

09:25 Becoming Unrecognized

11:17 Integrating Past Self

13:39 Podcast Vulnerability

14:49 Voice And Perfectionism

18:32 Pickleball Change Lesson

21:13 Nervous System And Grief

24:07 Six Things To Release

28:05 Guided Release Practice

31:09 Grief Means Growth

33:08 Loose Grip Metaphor

35:15 Closing And Support

Pickleball & Partnership Facebook Page
Please jump on over and say "Hi" - I would love to hear from you...

email: cejukes@gmail.com

 https://www.facebook.com/conejukes

https://www.facebook.com/groups/848118700833703

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/pickleball-partnership/id1775742795

Get your FREE Top 10 Tips for Playing Pickleball with Your Partner subscribepage.io/Top-10-Tips-Partner-Pickleball

Music: Purple Planet Music
Thanks to Purple Planet Music for Pickleball & Partnership Intro and Outro music Purple Planet Music is a collection of music written and performed by Chris Martyn and Geoff Harvey. 

Transcript

Speaker 0:00

Last time I told you about my one year experiment, about going all in on this podcast about committing fully about what transformation looks like when you stop dabbling, and I meant every word. There's something I didn't tell you, something I left out because, well, quite honestly, it's uncomfortable because it's tender because most people don't want to hear it. Going all in on who I'm becoming meant letting go of who I was for 37 years. See, I was a nurse. I am a nurse. And that's not just what I did. It's who I was. It was my identity, my worth, my purpose. It was how I introduced myself at gatherings, how I saw myself in the mirror, and when I made the decision to step away from that, to build something different, to step into a new identity, to become someone new. I didn't just lose the job that I had. I literally lost myself, or at least I lost the version of myself that I had known for, well, nearly four decades. And nobody tells you that part. Nobody tells you that transformation isn't just about becoming more, it's about releasing. Who you've been, even when that identity served you, even when it was noble, even when everyone respected you for it. Welcome to Pickleball and Partnership, where we talk about the game and the life that teaches us who we really are. Today we are talking about the cost of commitment that nobody mentions, the identity loss, the grief, the integration of who you were with, who you're becoming, because. If you are going to go all in on something new, and maybe that's a different career or a new version of yourself, or a life that doesn't fit that old container, you need to know what it's actually going to cost. And that's not to scare you, but it is to prepare you so that you don't quit when the grief hits.

Charlotte J 2:38

If that sounds like your cup of tea, pull up a chair, grab your paddle and join me Charlotte Jukes, as we dive in.

Speaker 2:47

So let me tell you what it actually looked like to step away from nursing after 37 years because I had to let go of knowing who I was. When somebody asked, what do you do? I had the answer. I had a great answer, one that made people nod with understanding and respect and admiration. I'm a nurse. Three words that told people I'm competent. I am caring. I help people. I matter. And when I stepped away from that, when I began building this new thing, my coaching, my podcasting, my complete transformation, this new work that doesn't fit into a neat box, and all of a sudden I didn't know how to answer anymore. And I found myself saying I am a, well, I, I used to be a nurse, but now I'm kind of, well, I do coaching and I have this podcast about pickleball but it's more than pickleball and oh my gosh, I stumbled over my own identity because for 37 years I knew exactly who I was and suddenly I didn't, and I had to let go of that external validation, letting go of knowing how people were going to respond to me, because being a nurse comes with that built in respect. People, thank you. They call you a hero. They trust you with their lives, with their pain, with their most vulnerable moments. And I didn't realize how much of my worth was tied to that until I didn't have it anymore. When we are building something new. When we are podcasting or we are coaching, we are creating, we are transforming. That validation doesn't come automatically anymore. And there are some weeks, nobody listens, nobody responds, nobody says, thank you for saving my life. And I found that I was just well creating. Without proof that that mattered and I had to learn to reconnect to my true self-worth and the path that I was now following, not in the recognition of what I was doing. And honestly, that was harder than I expected. I had to let go of competence. I was really good at being a nurse and I, really mean that I loved my job, whatever job, whatever role I had, whether it was working in ICU, the community, whether it was working in a doctor's office or I worked for Procter and Gamble. I was on the road. I was one of their area representatives. I worked in palliative care, I worked with pediatrics. I mean, 37 years means you know what you're doing. I could handle a crisis. I could read a patient before they even told me what was wrong. I could teach the new nurses. I was the expert. And then. Something happened that changed all of that. Something happened that took me away from nursing, and that was when I started to question everything. I started to question my path moving forward, and was this really what I wanted to do for potentially, potentially the next 40 years? And that was when I started looking at. Different opportunities expanding my vision, stepping outside of that box, and all of a sudden I didn't know what I was doing. I stumbled over words. I didn't know how to start a podcast. I didn't know how to edit a podcast. I didn't know how to put my services out there as a coach. I didn't know what to say to people. I wasn't sure what to say and I wasn't sure how to say it. All of a sudden, at the age of 50 something. I was a beginner again, and honestly that felt. Humiliating after decades of being the expert of decades, of having my ego stroked of showing up and feeling so confident in everything that I did, and I really had to release my attachment to being good at things and take on. The persona of being a learner, again, I had to let go of certainty about where I was going and connect instead to the certainty of my inner knowing. I was still confident in myself. I still connected to my self-worth. I knew my true value. That was what I was certain of because nursing gave me a structure. It gave me a schedule, it gave me a paycheck. It gave me a very clear path and transforming and changing, and. Building this new life. Well, there was no roadmap. All of a sudden, there were no guarantees that it would work. There was no safety net, no certainty that any of what I was doing truly mattered. I had to let go of knowing where I was going and trust that I was being led somewhere meaningful. Being led by honestly a power greater than myself that was connected to this incredible power within. Even when I couldn't see it yet, I had to let. Go of that version of myself that everyone knew because, I mean, my family knew me as a nurse, my friends, all of my friends were nurses. Really until I started playing pickleball. And then I had my pickleball friends too, but even my pickleball friends knew me as Charlotte, who plays pickleball and is a nurse. My whole community knew me as a nurse and when I started. Changing when I started talking about things like the nervous system and emotional patterns and transformation and inner child work and our capacity to grow and stretch and transform some people. And I would honestly say most people didn't recognize me anymore. I didn't recognize me anymore. They used to say, oh, you used to be so practical and now you are so woo woo. And I don't think I took that as a compliment in the beginning, and I certainly don't think they meant it as a compliment. And I felt this part inside of me cringe and shrink and contract. Whenever I heard somebody say, oh my gosh, you're so woo. And I had to choose, do I stay small so that other people feel comfortable or do I become who I'm meant to be? Even if it's confusing, even if it's confusing to them, even if it's confusing to me at times. And quite honestly, I chose becoming but it cost me the comfort of being understood. So here's what I need to say very clearly. I didn't throw away 37 years of nursing. I am not discarding any part of myself. What I'm doing is integrating it because those 37 years taught me how to hold space for people in pain, how to stay calm in a crisis, how to listen for what's not being said. How to see the human being underneath the words, the symptoms, the story, all of that. It's in this work now. It's in how I coach, how I podcast, how I show up in my relationships, how I show up in my marriage, how I show up for my children, how I show up for all my friends. But it's not who I am anymore. It's part of my foundation, but it's not my identity, and that's the difference. You don't have to erase who you were to become who you are meant to be. We can never erase. Parts of ourselves, and I really want to stress that because I see that with clients over and over again, they have this sense of resisting younger parts, resisting the parts that are irritating them or frustrating, and that's not what I'm suggesting, what I am embracing. What I am embodying is a new way of being, of embracing and embodying all of our parts, of leaning into the wisdom of all of our parts, because each one of them makes up who we are. You have to let it be integrated, woven into the fabric of who you are becoming without letting it define you. And that's the work. And yes, it is tender and it does take time. And then there was the podcast itself. So going all in on this, on showing up every week on speaking My truth. Asked me to release things too because I had to let go of caring what people think of me in nursing. I knew the script. I knew what to say. I knew how to say it. I knew what was appropriate. I knew what I was going to say. Two paragraphs before the client knew where I was going. But in this podcast, I'm sharing things people don't talk about. I'm sharing things I've never talked about before. I'm being honest in ways that I know make some people uncomfortable, and I had to release the need for everyone to like me. Some people think I'm too vulnerable. Some people think I'm not clinical enough anymore. Some think that I've changed and I had to be okay with all of that. I had to let go of caring how I sound, and this is a big one for me because I will share this with you. I may have mentioned it in previous podcast episodes, but when I was 10 years old. 10, 11 years old I moved. From one city to another in England, and it was a fair distance, but it was far enough that where I moved to people spoke very differently and all of a sudden. I was the outsider. I didn't fit in, and this was at a time where I moved into secondary school. So at the age of 11, you moved to a different school and all of a sudden you are surrounded by some of your friends, but a lot of people that you didn't know before. Well, I suddenly was surrounded by nobody that I knew and nobody understood me, and people laughed at my accent because I sounded so different. I was bullied, I was verbally bullied, and I was physically bullied, and it was a really, really difficult time in my life and I learned to stay quiet. I learned not to speak up, not to speak my truth, to observe, to watch what was going on, to listen to what was being said, but I couldn't trust myself to speak my truth well, I was gonna say, I never knew the reaction I was going to get, but I did. I knew the reaction I was going to get would be negative. And so when I started the podcast, this was huge for me because all of a sudden it's my voice that I am sharing with people I know and with strangers. And so at first, I would record episodes or I would record segments because I stumbled over a word or my voice cracked. Because I didn't sound professional enough, but I had to release that perfectionism because perfectionism was just fear dressed up as standards, and so I really lent into allowing myself to sound human, which is imperfect and real. And I had to let go of needing people to agree with me because I say things in this podcast that challenge beliefs that go against conventional wisdom, that truly make people feel uncomfortable. And not everyone agrees. Some people argue, some people unsubscribe. Some people think I'm wrong, and that's okay, but I had to release the need for. A majority consensus. Because what I know is truth is more important than agreement, and my work isn't to make everyone feel comfortable. It's to tell the truth as I see it, to tell the truth kindly in a way. That allows other people to feel into, yeah, actually that's how I feel too. Or that's how I've been seeing the world and I had to trust that it will reach the people that it's meant to reach. And that's not everyone. And if that's not you, that's okay. I have to bring this back to pickleball of course, because it's such a huge part of my life. But here's what I see on the pickleball court all the time, and maybe this equates into some area in your life too. So someone wants to improve their game, so maybe they hire a coach, they commit to getting better, to improving their play. But when the coach says, maybe you need to change your grip or your footwork is wrong. They resist, not because they don't want to improve, they do. They hired the coach in the first place, but because changing means letting go of the way that they've always done it, even if the old way doesn't work. Even if the old way keeps them stuck at the same level because it feels safer to hold onto what's familiar than to release it and try something new. And I really want you to hear this because this is not a flaw. This is being human. Our nervous system is set up this way to hang on to what's familiar to keep us in that feeling of safety. And so when we challenge our nervous system and we attempt to expand and increase our capacity, the ego, the mind jumps in and says, oh, hang on. Alarm bells. Alarm bells. Literally the amygdala in the brain. A alarm. Sets off an alarm and says, this is unfamiliar, this is not safe. Go back to the normal, go back to what you know. Maybe that person on the pickleball court, maybe they dabble in that new technique. Maybe they try it for a few games, but when it gets uncomfortable, they go back to the old grip or the old footwork. And of course they stay exactly where they are. Because you cannot transform while gripping onto something that's keeping you stuck. You have to let go. You have to let go of that old technique, that old identity, the old way of being, even when, especially when it feels uncomfortable, because even when that old way served. Me for 37 years. That was the cost of growth. Here's what I think most people don't understand about change. Your identity isn't just how you see yourself, it's how your nervous system knows that it's safe. So for 37 years, my nervous system knew I'm a nurse. That's stable, that's valued, that's who I am. And when I stepped away from that, my nervous system panicked. Those alarm bells went off. Who are we now? Are we safe? Do we matter? Because to my nervous system, the known, even if it's limiting me, even if it's keeping me small. The known feels safer than the unknown. So when I try to become someone new while still hanging onto that old identity, my nervous system got super confused. It didn't know what the heck was going on. It's like trying to fill a cup that's already full. There's no space, so you actually have to pour something out of the cup to make room for what's coming in. And that pouring out the analogy of the cup, pouring some liquid out, that's identity loss. That's grief because you cannot become someone new while you are still defining yourself by who you used to be. And that's why career transitions are so hard. It's why retirement feels like a death for some people. Why stepping away from a role that you've had for years, for decades, even if you're choosing, it can feel like you're losing yourself because in a way you are, you're losing that version of yourself that your nervous system recognizes as safe. And even though that new version. Feels more aligned because I know the new version of me definitely felt more aligned. It felt more authentic. It certainly felt more alive. But it was still unfamiliar and unfamiliar, feels dangerous, so my nervous system resisted it said to me, go back, go back. Go back to being a nurse. It flooded me with all this doubt and fear and grief, and what I did was gently and compassionately, and with practice and dedication, I had to teach my nervous system. I am safe in the becoming. I don't have to stay who I am to matter. So if you are going all in on something new, and maybe that is a different career, maybe it is a new version of yourself. Perhaps it's a life that doesn't fit your old container, a new relationship, maybe. Here's what you might need to release. So 1. is the Identity that you've carried, who you've been. Is not who you are becoming. And that old identity, even if it was respected and successful, may not fit anymore. And so really allowing it to integrate and honor it and thank it, but you don't have to stay defined by it. And secondly, External Validation. When you step into something new, the applause stops. It does believe, you me, I have experienced this, and you have to then find that self-worth within you and in the new work that you're doing, but ultimately it comes back to you, to that connection, to your own worth. That's the shift from external validation to the internal knowing. And 3. Competence and Expertise because you might be really good at what you've always done. I was a really good nurse. I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew exactly what to say. I loved my job and I loved my patients, my clients. But becoming someone new means being a beginner again, and that's uncomfortable and honestly it's humbling and sometimes it's embarrassing too. You have to release the need to be the expert and really embrace being in the messy, as Cathy Heller says, being the C grade student again. And 4. Certainty and Security. The old path had a map, and it's a map. You knew very well. It's a map. I knew I didn't even need to look at the map. I had it memorized down to the most minute detail. The new path doesn't have a map. You have to let go of knowing exactly where you are going and trust the unfolding. And honestly, that requires faith. It requires connecting to something more powerful than yourself. And yes, it is a little scary, but it's also exciting at the same time, 5. Other People's Understanding, because when you change, some people won't get it. They'll honestly be confused. They'll be concerned for you, and they'll be super hypercritical of you. I've experienced that too. You have to release the need for other people to understand and trust that you know only you know what's right for you. And 6. the Comfort of Being Known because there is safety in being recognized in people knowing who you are and what you do. And when you become someone new, you lose that. You become unknown. You become undefined. You are in this transition period, and you have to sit with the discomfort of not fitting into a neat category anymore. You leap outside of the box and all of a sudden labels don't fit anymore. So let's do something together right now. If you are able to find a quiet space, close your eyes or soften your gaze. Place one hand on your heart and one hand on your belly. And take a deep breath in through your nose, holding it for a moment, and then exhale slowly through your mouth. Now I want you to think about the identity you are releasing. Maybe it's a career you've held for decades. Maybe it's being the strong one or the helper, or the perfect one. Maybe it's an old version of yourself that doesn't fit anymore. See that identity clearly feel it in your body. And now with compassion, say Thank you. Thank you for keeping me safe. Thank you for giving me purpose. Thank you for serving me when I needed you. And now imagine gently placing that identity to the side, not throwing it away, not discarding it just. Setting it down, creating space, and notice what that feels like in your body. Maybe there's relief, maybe there's some sadness. Maybe both. Allow yourself to feel all the emotions and there's no wrong way to do this. Now bring your awareness to who you are becoming. You don't have to know exactly who that is yet. Just feel into the energy of it, feeling more aligned, more authentic, more alive, and say quietly to yourself or out loud if you are able. I honor who I was. I welcome who I'm becoming. I integrate the wisdom without the identity. And now let's take another deep breath. And as you exhale, imagine the old and the new weaving together. Not erasing anything, not discarding anything. Truly intertwining and integrating. And when you are ready, gently open your eyes and if you need to, you can write this down. What are you releasing and what are you integrating and who are you becoming? Here's what I need you to understand. If you are stepping into a new version of yourself and you feel loss, that's not a sign you're doing it wrong. It's actually a sign that you're doing it right, because real transformation always involves grief. You are leaving behind an identity, a way that you have been known, and a sense of certainty. And even if that old identity was limiting you, it's still yours. It was still familiar and it still matters. So it's okay to feel sad. It's okay for me to grieve the nurse that I was, even as I become the coach and creator that I'm meant to be. It's okay to miss the certainty, even as I trust the unfolding. It's okay to feel the loss of being easily understood even as I become more fully myself, and that grief doesn't mean I made the wrong choice. Grief means I'm human, and it also means that what I'm doing matters. Because if it didn't matter, I wouldn't feel anything. so what if the depth of your grief is proportional to the significance of your transformation? So feel it, honor it. Let yourself cry if you need to, and then take the next step, because on the other side of this release is the life you've been trying to build. It's the life you've been dreaming about. It's the version of you that's more aligned, more authentic, more alive, and that person is worth every single thing you had to let go of to find. Your new person. On the pickleball court, the best players know something crucial. You can't hit a powerful shot while gripping the paddle too tightly. You have to hold it firmly enough to control it, but loosely enough to let it move. And in fact, that reminds me of. Perhaps the one and only golf lesson I've ever had, but a golf pro said to me, hold the club as though you're holding a baby bird. And whenever I take a golf shot, which is not too often, because I have to be honest, I'm not keen on the game, but whenever I am in the moment of taking a powerful shot in pickleball, I have that in my mind. Hold it like a baby bird. Firmly enough to control it, but loosely enough to let it move. There's a release in every powerful shot, and life works the same way. You cannot create something new while you are white knuckling the old identity. You have to release your grip and let go of who you were so that you can become who you're meant to be. It's integrating the wisdom without carrying that definition. And yes, it will hurt. Yes, there will be loss, and yes, you will grieve, but you will also grow. And I know this because I hurt. I felt loss. I grieve and I have grown. And the person that you're becoming is worth every single thing that you had to let go of to find them. So go all in. And when it asks you to release an identity you've carried for years or decades, trust that. Because transformation isn't just about what you gain, it's about what you're finally brave enough to let go of, to integrate. So thank you for being here today for sitting with the uncomfortable truth, that becoming someone new means, releasing who you were for being willing to look at what you might need to let go of. If this episode brought up grief or loss or recognition, please know you're not alone. I am in it too. I'm still integrating. I'm still becoming, and I know I always will be, and you don't have to do this work alone. And if you are in a transition, maybe it's leaving a career, stepping into a new identity, becoming someone that you don't fully recognize yet, and you want support. You can find me on Facebook or Instagram or send me an email or a text. I'd be honored to walk with you through this, and if this episode resonated, share it with someone who's standing at the edge of a transformation but doesn't know what it's going to cost. Give them the gift of being prepared. Until next time. Keep releasing, keep integrating, and keep becoming because who you were was beautiful and who you are becoming is beautiful too.