This week I didn’t travel at all. I never left the Grand Forks, North Dakota city limits. And yet this week has been impactful, because this week marked the end of a major chapter in my life. This week has been a time of personal reflection and forward movement. These last seven days, this one week.

Sometimes seven days are all we need to turn it around, or to start anew. I spent over an hour this morning on the phone with one of my closest friends. We talked about what we’re doing now, what we’re planning to do next… and how darn far we’ve come.

We talked about how we are always one decision away from changing the trajectory of our lives.

A little more than 20 months ago I made one of those choices. Late at night, two weeks before the holidays and with no notice to family and friends, I ended a six year relationship. I left in a hurry, with only two bags of belongings. I had nowhere to go, no plans. I knew only that I had to leave. For the first couple of weeks I survived on the generosity of friends (and their boyfriends & spouses) who let me sleep in bunk beds, on couches, eat their food, and steal the affection of their pets. A few days before Christmas I reconnected with an old friend who let me move into her guest room, use her furniture, towels, toiletries…

I think of that Christmas all the time. I got to my parents’ in the morning and tried to put on a happy face in between hurtful incoming phone calls from my ex. At the end of the day, when I arrived back at my new place in Wilmington, my roommate was gone (as were her pets). I lay on her guest bed in a room full of her things, still with just those two bags of my own possessions, and I wondered what I was doing. I felt lost. I wondered why I was there instead of in my home, with my two dogs and rabbit, with my belongings, celebrating the holiday the way I had for the last six years of my life. I was alone, with little more than nothing, and I didn’t have a plan. All I’d been told for those six years was that I wasn’t capable — of maintaining relationships, of being successful, of doing it on my own. I believed it.

After I left I lost friends who felt forced to choose sides, I heard of the rumors being spread. I heard the hurt in my mom’s voice when she told me the names she & my dad had been called by my ex; someone to whom they’d only ever shown kindness. I responded by refusing to participate. I told my once friends who said they couldn’t be in my life that I understood. I kept quiet; I offered no reply to the accusations.

But I did get angry — at me. I decided that as soon as I finished my contractual obligation to my job at the time, I’d be leaving Wilmington. I didn’t know how or to where, only that I needed to go. I needed to change my mind about myself. Needed to push my career (which had been stunted by my prioritization of that relationship over myself) forward, needed to stand on my own. Needed to never put myself or the people I love in that position again. Needed to start believing in me.

Not even one year after that Christmas, I secured the job I have now. I secured it on my own, somewhere where I didn’t have any connections to win me the job. I didn’t have anyone help me find a place. I used the money I’d saved from my job as a statistician to pay my deposit, and first month’s. I didn’t have a car when I got here, & I drove around in the Penske truck comparing cars before settling on one (… with the help of my mom, dad, & uncles).

And now — I haven’t even been here a year. I’ve become good friends with some really great people. I’ve explored this part of the country. I’ve completed two presentations at a major international evaluation conference in Montreal, and been accepted to present in September in Australia. I’ve contributed to manuscripts that are currently in the peer-review process, and I’ve been working on two pieces for which I’m the first author. I’ve gotten a promotion and two raises at the University, a promotion and two raises in my part-time position. I’ve had an offer to co-own an evaluation firm with one of my bosses. I’ve identified the schools whose PhD programs I’m interested in, I’ve set a date for taking the GRE to start the application process.

And this week I started my own firm.

All of this, in less than two years. And here’s the thing — I know my story isn’t unique. I’ve watched as so many of you have made similarly hard decisions, overcome the worst of situations, survived (and thrived) after enormous personal loss, made the best when you’ve had little.

What I’ve learned from this experience is that each of us is all so much more capable than we might believe. Sometimes all it takes is one moment, one decision, one week. One opportunity for us to change our mind. Your best life might be on the other side of that lonely Christmas night.