Finding My Way Back to Purpose

After years of chasing startup dreams in San Francisco, I burned out hard and moved back to Wales.

This is the story of hitting pause, getting unstuck, and figuring out what I actually want next.

For the first time in years, I’ve stopped pretending I know where I’m going.

For most of my twenties, I had a plan. A big one.

Graduate from university. Move to San Francisco. Build something world-changing. Easy, right?

And somehow, I actually did it - the move, the startup, the whole Silicon Valley dream.

It was chaotic, thrilling, and occasionally delusional. I loved it. Until I didn’t.

The Startup Years

Back then, everything felt possible.

We built a product, pulled endless all-nighters, and convinced ourselves we were one feature away from “making it.” Spoiler: we weren’t.

After years of grinding, chasing investors, and riding the emotional rollercoaster that is startup life, we finally pulled the plug in December 2019. It felt like ending a long relationship - part grief, part relief, and a weird kind of freedom.

We pivoted. Started a small contracting business. Built apps for other startups. No more fundraising or chasing unicorn dreams. Just good, honest work that paid the bills. It was stable, creative, and even fun at times.

But somewhere in all that, something in me quietly burned out.

The Crash (That I Didn’t See Coming)

Burnout doesn’t hit like a brick wall. It’s more like quicksand - one day you realize you’re sinking.

I thought I was just tired. Turns out I was completely empty.

For years, I’d built my identity around doing. The next launch, the next goal, the next all-nighter. When that drive disappeared, I didn’t know who I was without it.

Then came 2023 - a rough year in more ways than one. By the time September 2025 rolled around, I packed my things, left the city, and moved back to my hometown in Wales.

The same place I bolted from at 18, convinced life only happened somewhere else.

The Pause

Moving back wasn’t part of the plan. (Then again, I didn’t have a plan anymore.)

Now I work remotely, still building products with our small team, but the pace is different. Quieter. Slower.

And honestly? That’s been weirdly uncomfortable.

When your whole adult life has been defined by chasing something, it’s unnerving to stop running. But I needed it. I needed to sit in the silence long enough to remember what I actually want - not what I should want.

The Realisation

Here’s the truth: I don’t have a grand new vision. No “next big thing.”

What I do have is curiosity again - the faint spark that comes back when you finally stop forcing it.

I’m learning that not every chapter needs a big narrative arc or a five-year plan.

Sometimes it’s enough to wake up, make good coffee, do work you don’t hate, and see where that leads.

I’m starting from scratch - not rebuilding, just re-rooting.

What's Next?

This post kicks off a small series I’ll be writing over the next year - check-ins on this strange in-between phase. Not a comeback story, just a real one.

Because honestly, the “figuring it out” stage deserves more airtime.

It’s messy, slow, and full of detours - but that’s where most of us actually live.

So here I am, back in Wales, doing my best to listen instead of hustle.

No idea where this goes next. But for the first time in a long time, that feels like progress.

TL;DR: I chased a dream, burned out, came home, and now I’m learning how to want things again - slowly, deliberately, and on my own terms.