A compelling cover letter doesn't start with you—it starts with them.

There are two stories about why you're applying for the job. The first story starts with you—it's your internal story.

The second story starts with them—it's the external story.

To be sure, it's important to be clear on both of these stories as you pursue a position. And they're not drastically divergent—they both stem from the same place. Both stories say the same thing, but they say it differently. The first story is about persuading yourself that this is a good move. The second story is about persuading them.

Read more to see these two stories in action and learn a subtle change in approach that will make all the difference.

Last weekend, I talked with a new client who has worked at the same company for 22 years. She told me that she feels like she’s been climbing up a mountain, and her boots are getting heavier and heavier. She hasn't felt a sense of purpose or connection to her work in a long time. And it’s exhausting.

She wanted to know: How do I start over after investing so much in my current path?

I’ve talked with so many people who, like her, visualize their work as a mountain. They chose their field and steadily scaled upward over the years. What happens, then, when you suddenly look around and think, “Oh no! I’m on the wrong mountain!”—or when your industry shifts the terrain shifts beneath your feet?

It’s daunting to think about starting all the way at the bottom again—going back to school to earn a new degree or seeking out an entry level job. It often comes with sinking regret that we’ve wasted our time or resources on a path that wasn’t the right one after all.

We need to throw out this mountain metaphor all together. Not only is it an image that keeps us trapped, it’s not true to how the world works now.

Pivoting is not making a mistake. It’s not starting over. It’s a normal part of career development.

Here are four ways to pivot into a new career path—without starting over.

Like so many leaders this year, Alex has been through the wringer. He’s the director of a small museum in northern Vermont, and even before the COVID crisis led to the closures of cultural heritage organizations, he was charged with inspiring a small team to do more with less.

When he joined a Leadership Lab session back in March, he shared some of the challenges he was facing, as well as how pandemic added layer upon layer of complexity and urgency to an already stretched role. Through his little Zoom box on the screen, I could see the heaviness of this charge weighing on his shoulders.

In that session, Alex realized: “I was ignoring the classic signs of burnout. I knew that my exhaustion ran deeper than simply shifting my schedule or delegating a project. I needed to look at my own priorities, to set new boundaries, and to redefine my purpose in order to serve my career and my community.”

As mission-driven leaders, we are taught to be martyrs to the mission—to put ourselves last, to give and give and give. But what happens when you give everything you have to the cause? You are all used up.

If we shift how we relate to our work, we can show up with energy that naturally refuels itself. We can cultivate sustainable leadership practices.

So many of us are carrying the weight of our own cloud of questions, hoping that the answers will come clear at some point. But at the end of the day, when we get a chance to finally sit down and think them through, we feel overwhelmed and exhausted. We turn on Netflix. Here’s what we can do instead.

Two years ago, when I sat down to write my personal Strategic Career Compass, I identified that one of the key ways that I feel fulfilled and successful is through maintaining something called creative tension.

Creative tension is a simple but powerful concept that was formed by Peter Senge, a professor of organizational learning at MIT's Sloan School of Management…

One of my clients recently landed a great new job, and as excited as she was about what’s to come, she came to our next coaching session weighed down with guilt and dread about leaving her current organization.

She wanted to know: How do I tell my manager that I’m leaving? How much notice do I give? How do I make this transition in a way that doesn’t put too much of a burden on my team?

It’s no wonder this was gnawing at her—she told me that her manager regularly joked that, You’re never going to leave me, right? If you do, you have to give me a year’s notice!

While it’s great to know that your boss values your contributions (to the edge of dependency?), no one wants to feel trapped in their position like this.

Here’s what I know to be true…

I have a new puppy / sidekick / coworker named Rosie. She's an adorable, quickly-growing, rescue beagle/terrier mix, and she is my first dog ever. What does having a dog have to do with leadership? As it turns out—everything.

So many of us think about finding a job as one thing: the all-in-one, full-time position where you use your skills and get your full pay.

Here's the truth: There are many different types of jobs for many different types of situations—and they are all legitimate choices.

I started sketching out job types, and created a taxonomy here…

I've seen so many mission-driven leaders dive headfirst into new jobs in a hurry. If their last day at one organization is on a Friday, they'll start the new job on Monday. And why not? They're excited to step into new challenges and the organization needed them there yesterday.

But something I've noticed during is that these rapid transitions don't give us what we truly need. Here’s why it’s essential to take time off between jobs.

Everyone has a mean voice in their head—a voice that tells you things like:
- You're not ready—don't try.
- You'll embarrass yourself and be a complete failure.
- Who do you think you are?
- No one will care what you have to say.

At first glance, it may appear that this voice—sometimes referred to as the inner critic or gremlin—is a jerk trying to keep you down. But actually, your gremlin is just misunderstood.

He or she showed up in your head sometime when you were young. Maybe you read a poem to the class and someone laughed at you, or you got new glasses that you thought were snazzy but the other kids teased you about. And this voice appeared to protect you, telling you to play it small—stay safe, don't stand out, don't take chances, don't put yourself out there—at every turn…

In these first months of 2019, I'm adding a new piece to my work: the role of Interim Executive Director of Youth in Action, a youth development nonprofit in Providence.

I'm excited—taking the helm of an organization is a new challenge for me, and the specific needs of an interim role feel suited to my skillset.

Between this new role, developing Penney Leadership, working with coaching and consulting clients, board service, motherhood, homeownership, and all of my other roles—I have a lot of responsibilities.

That's what it is to be a leader, right? Over the years of growing as a professional, climbing the ladder through successive job titles and taking on increasingly more and more responsibilities.

Early in my career, I looked at the leaders around me and wondered how they could juggle so much responsibility (and why would they want to?). 

I've learned that there's a whole different way of approaching responsibility and leadership—a mindset that's not anxious and draining but instead sustainable and whole. 

Here's the secret…

Last week marked one year since Penney Leadership went live! Many of you have asked about my transition into entrepreneurship and what it's been like to own my own business. Today I'm pulling back the curtain to look behind-the-scenes.

The last year has completely exceeded my expectations—it's been so fun, meaningful, and exciting. I've gotten to build a life and a business around my personal mission, values, natural strengths, and the kind of success that I find most meaningful.

Someone asked me this morning about the most surprising thing about my experience thus far. This is it…

Here is a photo of my amazing mentee, Miriam. We were connected through a formal mentoring program at Brown University called Women's Launch Pad; it pairs female juniors and seniors with Brown alumni women to support the transition to life after college. (Oh how I wish I had the program when I was a senior!) 

When Miriam first reached out to me, she wrote me one of the most professional emails I'd ever received in my life. It was my first time in a formal role as mentor. It was her first time building a professional relationship with someone who wasn't a professor. We were both a little intimidated by each other.

It's been four years since then, and she's moved through a few steps in her career already. Through all of that, we've kept in touch—sharing updates and questions as we find ourselves at crossroads again and again. 

Last week, we were invited back to our alma mater for the kickoff panel for this year's program; we got to reflect on our time together and share our tips for making the most of a mentoring relationship.

Here are some of our favorites…

Navigating your career path and leadership development is hard. And it can be really lonely.

You may wonder if you're the only one facing the challenges before you...

...the only one losing sleep over the stresses of being a manager caught in the middle of the higher ups and your direct reports...

...the only one dealing with a toxic boss that makes you question whether you're putting up with abuse or you’re just not tough enough...

...the only one who is feeling lost and directionless because your career path is full of twists and turns and you're terrified of choosing the wrong next step...

...but I've got a bird's eye view, and I hear from a lot of clients who feel the same way.

I'm here to tell you this: You are not alone.

Here are just some of the issues that came up with my clients this week. Maybe you're facing one, too, and you think you're the only one…

About three months ago, I sat down for lunch at a Thai restaurant in Connecticut with a woman named Anne.

She is the managing partner of Fio Partners, a nonprofit consulting firm that I've been following for about three years: I'd hired them to facilitate staff retreats for my former organization, connected with everyone I knew who knew them, and had informational interviews with nearly every member of the six-person team about their lives as consultants. 

This meeting was less of a job interview and more of a conversation. It just felt right. I would join the team. I would complement my individual coaching at Penney Leadership with organizational consulting through Fio Partners. I would bring together my coaching expertise with my nonprofit management experience and tools to serve a wide variety of organizations. And the coconut soup was delicious.

It's what I've wanted for years. 

In the car on the way home, I called my best friend to share the news. She flipped, squealing, "ARE YOU SO EXCITED RIGHT NOW?" But I wasn't jumping out of my seat with elation—instead, I felt a total calm and coherence. It was a kind of deep knowing that my whole life had led me to this moment.

How do I know that? Here’s how…

A friend of mine recently started a nursing job at a new hospital. As part of the standard orientation plan, she was assigned a preceptor to show her the ropes and acclimate her to the hospital's policies.

But instead of being a supportive and encouraging leader, the trainer was constantly looming over my friend's shoulder, speaking over her during report-outs, and making unnecessary stylistic corrections to her written reports.

Instead of feeling confident and at home at the new hospital, my friend—an experienced and wonderful nurse—felt distrusted, incompetent, and frustrated. After just two shifts, she was going out of her mind. And the training period was six weeks long!

Each time I saw her, she was pulling her hair out, venting, and counting down the days. As we sipped gin and tonics on the porch after one particularly rough shift, I asked her:

What if, instead of seeing this as a frustrating and demoralizing situation, there was another way of looking at it?

Learn about the top benefits of working with me as your coach in this short video.

Achieve. Excel. Prove. Strive. Progress. 

These are all words that I would use to describe my approach to my career path in my first decade out of college. In a job interview along the way, one of the panelists asked me to what I attributed the "meteoritic rise" detailed on my resume. Me, a meteor! The question took me by surprise because I thought the answer was so obvious that it wasn't worth asking. Isn't that what the world wanted from me? Isn't that what I've been taught my whole life to be aiming towards? Rise to the top. Go to the best school. Get the best grades. Perform. Strive. Achieve. 

This is a sense ingrained in many young professionals today. We expect to advance quickly, to rise within our organizations, to display an impressive job title on our LinkedIn page.