Four Stories of Starting Over

If you're in public, look to your left or right. How many people are just starting their lives over in front of your eyes? It's more common than you'd think. More than 150 readers e-mailed us to share their tales of starting over. Here are excerpts from four readers' stories. (Post your own starting-over story and advice below.)

Everyone Thinks You're Nuts

Fairfax resident Helen Chamberland, 61, abandoned the rat-race lifestyle of Los Angeles in 1987 to follow her passion for teaching to Tokyo, where she taught English for three years. The job would lead to a post in a Japanese boarding school in Switzerland for two years, then to London for eight years as head of a middle school. Now she's director of the middle school at Flint Hill School in Oakton.

The most difficult part was telling my friends and family. Some thought I was crazy, and others just didn't understand. I also sold everything except some clothes and a few of my favorite books. When I finally quit my job, the reality really hit me. I was going to live in Tokyo, and I had no job and I knew no one there. I was terrified and exhil a rated at the same time. I kept asking myself, "What's the worst that can happen?" My answer was always the same: "If I fail, then I come back to the States and start over." I did not fail. In fact, it has been one of the greatest adventures of my life.

TIP: "Follow your dream and they will come around. My friends were always supportive even though they might not have understood. Do the research and have some sort of address back in the States, a friend or some kind of a safety net that you can fall back on."

Going in Blind

Ten years ago, D.C. native Mary Seton Corboy, 49, and a friend started Greensgrow Farm ( http://www.greensgrow.com) in urban Philadelphia to grow and deliver fresh vegetables to area restaurants. They built the farm on the only available land they could find: a former EPA cleanup site that was once a galvanized steel plant. Now it's a successful market and nursery and considered one of the success stories of urban agriculture.

Many a night I cried myself to sleep wondering how I was going to get out or ahead. What was I thinking, having no experience growing stuff, building greenhouses, designing hydroponics systems, dealing with business and neighborhood issues? What was I (with a master's degree in poli-sci and 10 years' experience as a chef) doing working in a n economic disaster . . . trying to grow food on a brown field with no bathroom on the site and only an umbrella and a rented garage with no roof on it for cover?

TIP: If it's a new business venture, do your homework before dropping everything. "I do everything from the plumbing to the accounting to the development. Some of it is incredibly technical. No matter how small the detail is, you have to pay attention to it. It's great to have the grand dream, but the devil's in the details."

All Signs Say Turn Around

After settling in a respected nonprofit in Idaho, Amy Lemon's husband was accepted to graduate school in the District. So she packed up everything and drove a U-Haul across the country. It was a rough ride and rough start in their new city, but things eventually worked out. Lemon, 38, got a job with the Smithsonian, her husband got a teaching position at Stone Ridge School of the Sacred Heart, they bought a house in Silver Spring and had two children.

With no jobs and no contacts, our entry into D.C. was a rough one. . . . One of the lowest moments was aimlessly driving the U-Haul around D.C., wondering what we were going to do and winding up on the toll roads in Virginia, where I desperately searched for coins on the floor of the van while the unlucky drivers behind us angrily honked their horns. Being from the W est, we knew nothing about toll roads, let alone having to prove employment before seeing an apartment. . . . The first 10 months in D.C. were hell. It seemed every encounter was telling us to turn around and go home.

TIP: When the going gets tough and you can't turn around, wait it out. "I must have just really believed it would eventually work out. Looking back, that's the only thing I could imagine. Surely it can't get any worse. I actually do remember saying that one time. It can only get better."

Coming Full Circle

It started with a bunch of margaritas at Cactus Cantina in the District. The buzz led to a harebrained idea. Sell their condo by the National Cathedral. Move to Utah to ski. So that's what Eric Mosel, 45, and girlfriend Mary Scohera did. They sold their place for a big profit, quit their jobs and moved to ski country for four years. The money eventually ran out, though, and they moved back to Foggy Bottom last month.

Skiing all the time is so very nourishing for the soul but does nothing for your positive cash flow. So a hard decision was made, as hard as my decision to leave D.C. and my mother, who endured the change with grace and understanding: We must return to D.C. before our careers become stale and replenish the coffers. To get back into the mainstream and leave our paradise. ... Now we begin our job searches and already have nearly survived the D.C. DMV, and slowly acclimate to the humid summer weather.

Tip: For the journey out, "it's best to clear away as much debt as possible," Mosel says. "That's one thing we really did. When we moved out West we really made sure we had a very low-cost loan for our Park City place."

For the return to "normal life," "be flexible with your career," Scohera says. "If you're not gone for more than five years, I think you can pick back up. We've been gone awhile, but our same old haunts are still around, and our friends are still here. We're slowly getting back into it."

YOUR STORY: Post your own tale of personal reinvention in our comments section.