What My Global Nomad Childhood Taught Me About Change
I’ve lived through more change than most people experience in an entire lifetime. By the time I was in my twenties, I’d lived on several continents. My father was a U.S. diplomat, which meant that every three or four years, we packed up our lives, said goodbye to friends, and started all over again somewhere new.
As a child, I obviously didn’t have much say in the matter. Sometimes change was intentional; a new role for my dad, a deliberate posting. Other times, it simply happened to us. Change rarely asks if you’re ready.
That’s true for leaders, too. Sometimes you make the choice to pivot, restructure, or expand. Other times, the world delivers change to your doorstep: economic shocks, shifting markets, the unexpected resignation of a key team member.
Either way, the way you face that change makes all the difference.
Mindset really matters
Growing up, I was the third of four children. I was the “good girl”, the one who coped by smoothing things over and getting along. Each of us reacted differently to the upheaval of moving; my strategy was to adapt quickly and quietly.
Looking back, I can see how easily I could have slipped into a victim mindset: resenting the disruption, resisting the unfamiliar, or spinning in drama. But I learned something vital instead: when change is unavoidable, the one thing you control is your response. Because how you choose to meet change is often more powerful than the change itself.
As leaders, we all know the temptation to slip into frustration or blame when things shift beyond our control. But staying stuck there is exhausting. The real opportunity lies in asking: how do I want to meet this moment? What kind of person do I want to be in this moment?
Bloom where you’re planted
In each new country, once I was a bit older, I wanted to understand how things worked. I wanted to know the rhythm of the community, where the markets were, who "je suis la" was*, how history had shaped the streets I was walking through... (*He was a man who sold treats, wandered the neighborhood, and called "Je Suis La – I am here" repeatedly.) Asking questions and exploring gave me a way in, a way to belong. Curiosity became my (nomadic) anchor.
Instead of seeing every move as a loss of what I’d left behind, I began to treat each one as an adventure. Blooming where I was planted wasn’t merely about coping, for me it was about learning to see beauty and opportunity in unfamiliar soil.
That curiosity shaped not just how I saw the world but also how I showed up in it. It’s a practice that leaders can borrow: when the ground shifts beneath you, resist the urge to close down. Get curious instead. Ask the questions that open doors.
What are the facts at play here?
What am I reacting to?
What is needed in this moment?
What do I need to navigate this as the leader I want to be?
I’ve learned that curiosity doesn’t just help us cope with change, it helps us find opportunities inside it.
Privilege and luck
There was another side to this life, too. As the blonde American kid, I was always conscious of how much I stood out. I noticed the ways I was privileged, the access I had, the safety nets others didn’t. I remember carefully covering my arms and legs when local custom asked for it, even if I didn’t always get it right.
My parents modelled this awareness, always highlighting the differences, talking about them, and reminding us that this life was unusual, even lucky. That kind of awareness has stayed with me.
It’s part of why I’ve never taken for granted the global institutions that make lives better. USAID, for example, was woven through much of our experience – building schools, supporting health care, and strengthening infrastructure. Watching the recent dismantling of such vital work has felt pretty personal. And it has reminded me how fragile progress can be.
For leaders today, awareness is just as crucial. Privilege, context, perspective. These shape not just how we see the world but how we lead within it. Ignoring them is a missed opportunity.
What stays with me
When I look back now, the lessons are crystal clear. Change is a constant in most of our lives. Mindset shapes how we experience it all. Curiosity flips uncertainty on its head and turns it into discovery. Awareness grounds us in humility and perspective.
I didn’t choose to move so often — to have a nomadic childhood — but those years shaped who I am. They taught me that home isn’t always a fixed location, it can be a way of moving through the world, a way of choosing to meet change with openness, resilience, and respect.
Leadership, like life, doesn’t mean carrying it all alone or having it all figured out. It means meeting change with courage, honesty, and a willingness to keep learning and exploring.
That’s what my childhood taught me. And it’s why I do the work I do now: helping leaders navigate change not with fear, but with presence.
Intrigued about how we could work together? Book a call with me and let’s get curious.
