Why Successful Professionals Feel Stuck in Their Careers – An Interview with Pippa Rauch
Pippa Rauch is an Industrial and Organisational Psychologist and Coach who supports ambitious professionals to navigate change, uncertainty and the often uncomfortable space between who they have been and who they are becoming. Her work combines psychological insight with a deeply human approach to understanding identity, self-trust and meaningful transitions.
In this interview, Pippa explores why even successful professionals can feel stuck or disconnected from their careers, the emotional complexities of change, and why finding the “right” next step is not always the answer. She shares how slowing down, developing self-awareness and taking small, courageous steps can help people navigate uncertainty and create more meaningful careers and lives.
Pippa Rauch, Industrial Psychologist and Transition Coach
What tends to bring someone to you when a successful career no longer feels like the right fit?
Often, there is a disconnect between how someone’s life or career looks from the outside and how it feels on the inside.
Many of the people I work with have done everything they thought they were supposed to do. They have worked hard, built successful careers, taken on more responsibility and reached goals they once really wanted. Yet, at some point, something stops fitting.
They might describe feeling stuck, burnt out, restless or disconnected from their work. Often, they assume the answer is simply to find another job or career. But when we slow things down, the conversation frequently becomes much bigger than that.
The person who built this career may have changed. Their priorities may have shifted. A life transition may have altered what success means to them now. Or they may be realising that they have spent a long time following expectations without asking what they actually want.
That is why I see career questions as deeply human questions. Sometimes, “What should I do next?” is really asking, “Who am I now, and what matters to me from here?”
How do you help clients distinguish temporary frustration from a deeper shift in identity, values or direction?
I encourage people not to rush to solve the discomfort. When something feels wrong at work, our instinct is often to immediately ask, “Should I leave?” I prefer to slow down and become curious about what the discomfort might be communicating and revealing to us.
We explore when the feeling began, what has changed, what emotions are present and what they notice in their body when they talk about different aspects of their work. We also pay attention to the internal narratives, such as the “shoulds”, expectations and beliefs they hold about who they need to be.
Sometimes we discover that the role itself still fits, but the person is exhausted, under-supported or navigating a particularly demanding season. Sometimes there are changes that could make their current work feel very different. Sometimes we realise that something more fundamental has shifted.
The goal is not to remove uncertainty as quickly as possible. It is to understand it. When we create enough space to notice what is happening beneath the frustration, the next step often becomes much clearer.
Why does self-trust often become harder, rather than easier, for high-achieving professionals facing major change?
High achievers often become very good at succeeding within structures where the markers of success are relatively clear. For example, work hard, perform well, get the qualification, then earn the promotion and take the next opportunity. Major transitions can remove those markers. Suddenly, there may be no obvious “right” answer, and that can feel incredibly uncomfortable. Someone who is used to feeling competent can find themselves in unfamiliar territory where research, achievement and hard work cannot guarantee certainty.
This is often when people start looking outward. They ask more people for advice, consume more information, compare themselves with peers and try to think their way towards the perfect decision. Ironically, the more external noise they gather, the harder it can become to hear themselves.
For me, self-trust is not about always knowing the answer or feeling completely confident. It is about developing the belief that even when I do not know exactly what comes next, I can listen to myself, make a thoughtful choice and trust my ability to respond to what follows.
What do workplaces still misunderstand about the emotional side of career and leadership transitions?
We often treat workplace transitions as logistical events when they are also deeply emotional experiences.
A promotion, restructure, return from parental leave, move into leadership, or organisational change may look straightforward on an organisational chart, but psychologically, something much more complex can be happening.
Transitions often involve identity. A first-time manager, for example, is not simply learning a new set of leadership skills. They may be letting go of an identity built around being the expert individual contributor and now learning how to create success through other people. Someone returning to work after becoming a parent may be returning as a person whose priorities, values, identity, and relationship with ambition have shifted.
When we experience change, there are almost always experiences of grief, even in positive change. Moving towards something new often means leaving something familiar behind. It is important for organisations to understand and acknowledge this grief while also validating that it is part of the transition process.
I think workplaces could support transitions far better by creating space for both the practical and human dimensions of change. People do not leave their emotions, identities, and uncertainty at the door when they arrive at work. These experiences shape how they lead, perform, connect, and adapt.
Why can the pressure to find the “right next step” make career change more difficult?
Because it turns exploration into a test you believe you have to pass.
People often come to career change wanting certainty. They might say, “Tell me what I should do next.” Beneath that can be an understandable fear of making the wrong decision, wasting time, or regretting a choice.
But when every decision feels as though it needs to determine the next ten years or our whole career, we can become paralysed. We overthink, gather endless information, and wait for a level of certainty that may never arrive.
I prefer to encourage people to ask, “What is my next best step?” while keeping their eyes on their values and the kind of life they want to create. Our values can act as a compass, giving us a sense of direction without requiring us to have the entire journey mapped out.
The next best step doesn't have to solve your entire future. It simply needs to move you towards what matters or help you learn something about yourself.
Meaningful change rarely comes from one perfect decision. It unfolds through small, intentional, and courageous steps that gradually bring us closer to a life that feels more aligned with who we are and what we value.
What is one useful way to notice whether someone is experiencing burnout, misalignment, or simply a demanding season at work?
I would start by becoming curious about the pattern rather than immediately trying to label the experience.
Ask, “When do I feel like this?” Is the exhaustion present across almost everything, including areas of work that previously felt energising? Does rest make a meaningful difference? Is the difficulty linked to a particular manager, responsibility, or season? Or do you notice that even when you have capacity, something about the work itself no longer feels meaningful or aligned?
I also encourage people to notice what happens emotionally and physically. Our bodies can offer useful information before we have found the language for what we are experiencing.
There is rarely one question that neatly separates burnout from misalignment or a demanding season, and sometimes they overlap. Prolonged misalignment can contribute to burnout, for example.
The important thing is to resist making a major decision from a place of depletion, if possible. Before asking, “Do I need a different career?”, we may first need to ask, “What do I need in order to hear myself clearly again?”
How can small experiments help someone move forward before they feel completely certain about what comes next?
Small experiments not only lower the stakes of change but also help us build confidence, create momentum and develop greater trust in ourselves.
When people believe they need to know exactly what they want before taking action, they can remain stuck for a very long time. I encourage clients to reverse that process, take a small, thoughtful action and allow the experience to teach you something.
An experiment could be having a conversation with someone whose work interests you, volunteering for a different type of project, testing a new boundary or exploring an idea without immediately committing to it. Then we reflect, "What did you notice? What energised you? What felt uncomfortable? What surprised you? What might you want to try next?"
These small actions create opportunities for learning, but they also help us experience ourselves as capable of moving forward, even when things feel uncertain. Each step can build a little more confidence and momentum, reminding us that we don't need to have everything figured out to make progress.
Over time, we begin to develop self-trust, not because every experiment works out as expected, but because we learn that we can navigate uncertainty, respond to what we discover and keep moving forward. Sometimes confidence doesn't come before action. It grows because we were courageous enough to begin.
What has your own experience taught you about moving from proving yourself toward trusting yourself?
This is something I continue to learn.
Earlier in my career, I think I placed a lot of value on doing things well, being useful and proving that I was capable. There is nothing inherently wrong with ambition or wanting to do good work, but I have learnt that achievement can become a very noisy measure of whether we are “enough”.
Building my own practice, becoming a mother and allowing my work to evolve have all challenged me to loosen my grip on certainty and externally defined ideas of success. I have had to become more comfortable with seasons where the next chapter is still taking shape.
I have also had to practise many of the things I ask of my clients, slowing down, noticing what I need, questioning my own “shoulds”, allowing priorities to change and trusting that small steps still count.
For me, moving from proving to trusting does not mean losing ambition. It means changing the relationship I have with it. I can still want to grow and contribute meaningfully without needing every achievement to validate who I am.
What question would you encourage someone to ask themselves when they know something needs to change but do not yet know what?
I would ask, “What is the next small step I can take that would help me understand myself or my situation a little better?”
We often ask enormous questions when we are in transition, "What should I do with my life? What is my purpose? Should I stay or leave? What career am I meant to have?" These questions matter, but when we are already overwhelmed or uncertain, they can create even more pressure.
A smaller question invites curiosity rather than demanding certainty. Maybe the next step is noticing what consistently drains you. Maybe it is having an honest conversation, setting a boundary, researching something you keep returning to, resting before deciding, or admitting to yourself that what you once wanted has changed.
You do not need a complete map of the next chapter to begin moving towards it. Sometimes self-trust is built precisely this way, not by suddenly knowing the answer, but by learning that you can listen to yourself and respond to what you hear.
Read more from Pippa Rauch
