We talk a lot about reinvention. Quit your job. Burn it all down. Start again.

But if you look closely at what most midlife pivots actually are, they are not pure reinventions. They are reversionings. You do a new version of you, built on a very old draft.

You circle back to something you were obsessed with before you got trapped in your so-called sensible career. You do it in a different format, with better boundaries, better rates and far less willingness to put up with nonsense.

When I was talking to Emma Keeling on the podcast recently faarkihopeitsnottoolate.com/p/no-shame-more-story-emma-s-leap-from-news-to-film, we realised she had not reinvented herself at all. She had reverted.

Her original love was storytelling. She went into journalism, which is basically storytelling on a deadline. Years later, she shifted into filmmaking. Still storytelling, still people, still emotion. Just a different container, different tools, different pressure.

That is reversioning. Same core, new format.

You see this everywhere once you start looking.

The lawyer who becomes a mediator. Same love of structure, language and resolving conflict, but with more humanity and less billable-hour theatre.

The corporate marketer who moves into coaching. Same instinct for understanding people and positioning ideas, now applied to humans instead of products.

The teacher who becomes a workshop facilitator inside organisations. Same talent for explaining, designing learning and holding a room, just moved into a better paid environment.

Not reinvention from scratch. Reversioning of what was already there.

A lot of us started out doing something because we genuinely cared about it. Then life happened.

You said yes to the promotion. You chased the bigger salary. You took the role that looked impressive on LinkedIn. You went for the corner office and the job title your parents could actually explain to their friends.

Twenty years later, you look up from your laptop and think: how the hell did I end up here?

You used to love ideas, or people, or solving problems, or making things. Now your calendar is full of status meetings, performance reviews and presentations you do not fully believe in.

You did not consciously walk away from what you loved. You just took one small off-ramp, then another, then another. Responsibility crept in. Politics crept in. Fear of losing what you had crept in.

That distinction matters, because it changes what you need to do next.

The problem is not that you are broken or talentless or “past it”. The problem is that your current role is a terrible fit for the original engine that has always powered you.

You have layered so many expectations, titles and obligations on top of that engine that you can barely see it any more. So you assume you need a total reinvention, a dramatic leap into something completely different.

Sometimes, yes. But often, no. You do not need to become a different person. You need to reversion the person you already are.

Instead of asking “What could I reinvent myself as?”, try “What have I always been doing, in every job, even when no-one paid me for it?”

That is reversioning territory.

Try this

Grab a notebook. No need to be profound. Just list:

Now look for patterns. Are you always the one simplifying complicated things? Calming tense rooms? Spotting opportunities others miss? Turning chaos into a clear plan?

Those are the threads you reversion around.

You are not looking for a job title. You are looking for a recurring behaviour.

Reversioning usually means asking two questions:

If you are a storyteller stuck in corporate communications, reversioning might look like podcasting, documentary work, internal narrative strategy or teaching storytelling to leaders.

If you are a natural teacher trapped in middle management, reversioning might mean facilitation, learning design, coaching or building your own programmes on the side.

If you are a fixer of messy situations, you might reversion into consulting, interim roles, or specialised project work where people pay you specifically to sort things out, then let you leave.

Try this

Look at your current role and brutally separate it into:

Now imagine three ways you could build a role, side project or business model that is 60 to 80 percent that good 20 percent.

This is not about instant resignation letters. It is about designing your next version on purpose, not waiting for HR to do it for you.

Reinvention sounds dramatic and sexy, but it secretly terrifies a lot of people. Reversioning is quieter and more honest. It says:

You already are who you need to be. You just owe yourself a better version of how that shows up in the world.

You do not need to burn down your past. You need to mine it, edit it and release a stronger cut.