From Microsoft to Me: Finding Myself in Rural Ireland

What does it really mean to start over — not just in location, but in life purpose, identity, and rhythm? In this episode of Third Act Unscripted, we sat down with Tanya Monasterio, whose bold leap from a high-powered tech career in Seattle to a quiet, uncertain life in a small Irish village is nothing short of remarkable.

Her story isn’t just about relocation — it’s about reclamation: of self, space, courage, and creativity. Through Tanya’s journey, we explore what it takes to break away from the life you’ve built when you realize you’re no longer inside of it.

Leaving a “Successful” Life Behind

Tanya’s life looked ideal on paper. After growing up on a farm in South Africa and navigating the shifting landscapes, she went on to build a robust career in telecommunications and eventually landed at Microsoft in Redmond, Washington. It was the kind of life people dream about — the steady income, the travel, the waterfront condo in Kirkland, the dinners, the prestige. Tanya had made it.

But underneath the surface of success, something was missing.

“I was doing well, but I wasn’t in it,” Tanya reflects. “I could do the work. I could solve problems. But I wasn’t building anything of my own. I wasn’t using my voice or my gifts. I was building someone else’s dream.”

That realization sparked a quiet but persistent internal shift — one that many of us encounter in our third act. What happens when the dream we’ve been chasing no longer fits the person we’ve become?

The Pull Toward Something More Honest

Tanya didn’t have an exact plan. But what she did have was a growing list of things she could no longer tolerate: the high cost of living, the emotional distance from family, the relentless pace, and a creeping emptiness that not even luxurious travel or shopping could cure.

After losing her father and feeling the deep isolation of the COVID lockdowns, Tanya knew something had to give. A surprising solution emerged: Ireland.

Using her UK citizenship to bypass immigration red tape, Tanya found a modest house in a southeastern Irish village and bought it sight unseen, from across the ocean. It was a bold, terrifying leap — and one she made alone.

She arrived with no job, limited furniture, her dog, and little more than faith that she could figure it out. What she found when she opened the door wasn’t some cozy cottage fantasy. It was a damp, filthy house that smelled of mold and uncertainty. And yet, it was hers.

The “Now What?” Philosophy

Rather than crumbling under the weight of fear, Tanya leaned into her personal mantra: “Now what?” That simple question became a guiding compass, pulling her out of stagnation and into movement — even if she didn’t know exactly where it would lead.

“‘Now what?’ gets me out of the spin,” she says. “It moves me from ruminating into action.”

She began to transform her home, one room at a time — ripping up carpets, cleaning, painting, and making it livable. Just as she was building a physical space, she was also building an internal one — room by room — to house a new version of herself.

Letting the Old Self Die

One of the most profound parts of Tanya’s story is her honesty about the darkness of reinvention. The grief. The loneliness. The mourning of an old life — even one you chose to leave behind.

She speaks candidly about missing her condo in Kirkland, the hummingbirds in Washington, the ease of apartment life, the car she had to sell, and the stability of her career. She doesn’t romanticize the leap — she tells the truth about what it costs.

But she also shares the gifts of that discomfort: “You have to grieve who you were to make space for who you are becoming.”

Tanya describes how, during that in-between space, she let her natural hair grow out, sat in uncertainty, and stopped trying to fast-forward through the dark. And in that stillness, she slowly began to hear herself again.

A Life That Finally Fits

Today, Tanya has reimagined what it means to be successful. Her definition no longer includes promotions, job titles, or LinkedIn summaries. It’s about freedom, fulfillment, and creative expression.

She’s been creating handmade crystal bead jewelry and plans to offer therapeutic massage sessions from her home. She isn’t driven by scale or sales. She’s driven by resonance — by doing things that feel real, joyful, and aligned.

What’s more, she’s found that the community around her has responded. A neighbor let her practice massage. A friend’s cousin commissioned a bead piece. A vintage shop owner bought five more for holiday gifts. Without a website or a storefront, Tanya’s work is finding its way into the world.

She calls these her “side quests” — little experiments in joy and self-trust that may or may not stick. But each one is meaningful.

What We Can Learn from Tanya’s Third Act

Tanya’s story reminds us that our third act doesn’t need a business plan. It needs integrity. It needs gut instinct. It needs the bravery to ask: What do I really want? What kind of life actually fits me now?

If you’re in a place where your life looks fine but doesn’t feel fine — where you’ve succeeded by everyone else’s standards but feel strangely absent in your own story — Tanya’s journey is your invitation.

Not to move to Ireland (though that’s always an option), but to move closer to yourself.

Resources

Key Takeaways

  • Success that doesn’t include you isn’t truly success.

  • You don’t need to see the full path — just take the next step that feels true.

  • Reinvention often starts in grief, mess, and uncertainty. That’s normal — and necessary.

  • “Now what?” is a powerful tool for getting unstuck.

  • Creating a life that fits may require letting go of one that looked good.

  • You’re never too late to begin again.


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From Burnout to Breakthrough: Stacey Kauffman’s Path to Fulfillment

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5 Things You Can Do Today to Get Unstuck in Your Third Act