How trauma has changed my career path

A fatal car accident in 2017 caused a complete change in Sala Morrissey’s career. She went home from work as an investment bank project manager in London, and a big truck hit her car.

“All I remember was listening to the metal crunch and then everything turned white,” she recalls. “Half of my car was under the truck,” the driver braked and Morrissey’s vehicle spun along the highway, crashing into a central reservation.

Emergency services told her it was a miracle that she survived. She lost her senses in her left side of her body and six weeks of memory. “They said it was a coping mechanism. My brain wiped it out,” she recalls. The physical trauma slowly healed, but the real rupture became deeper. I took into consideration the pace and pressure of life she built in the capital’s financial sector.

Originally from Ireland, Morrissey moved to the UK in 2005 and slammed the pavement of London on his resume before playing a role in the banking industry. “I wanted to go ahead and take on a new opportunity, so I walk to the head of the department and ask, ‘Can I hide you?'” she says.

Specializing in risk and regulation, she rose to the ranks, but her success was at the cost. With her mother of three, she spent long commutes and ran her life “like a military operation.” The school uniforms laid out in the evening rose at 6am by 6:45am. “My schedule was tenless, I had consecutive meetings. I was constantly exhausted. Sometimes I would close the toilet door at work, sit on the toilet seat and set a timer for a 10-minute nap.”

The accident forced me to do more than a pause. It rethinks how she wanted to live and work. “That was the moment when I changed my story,” she says. “I realized that I shouldn’t be extravagant about myself first – your health, your time.”

She quietly began retraining and completed her two-year diploma in health coaching, during Covid, before completing her Masters in Psychology and Neurosciences at King’s College London.

In 2022, Morrissey launched Cocoon Mode de Vie, designing a bespoke, clinically informed health and longevity program. Purpose: To provide holistic, high-end support to clients under pressure. Many of them still live the life she left behind.

I realized that I shouldn’t be extravagant about myself – your health, your time

Sarah Morrissey

“My body can’t feel stressed anymore,” she says. “I meditate. I eat properly,” she adds. “I’ve stopped saying ‘yes’ to everything and it’s always available. ”

Today, her world is still moving fast, but in her words.

According to health psychologist Rabbi Gill, experiences like Morrissey can lead to deep transformation. “In many cases, trauma functions as a catalyst for growth. Many people, especially women, discover new goals and directions when restructuring their lives,” says Gill. “There is a strong psychological desire to create meaning for suffering and restore agency after losing control. What we often see is empathy, resilience, and commitment to work that feels socially meaningful and personally authentic.”

Trauma doesn’t always bring about new careers, but it can reconstruct how people lead.

Caroline Going was on vacation in Spain with her best friend and business partner Vicki Matthews when she realized something was wrong. “Vicki began digging into her words. At first I thought she was dehydrated and then I thought she was suffering from a stroke,” recalls Gowing. By the time they reached A&E, her friend had a seizure.

What followed was blurring, scanning, a disastrous diagnosis, and a medical repatriation to the UK.

Matthews had glioblastoma and had a dark brain tumor. She passed away in April 2023 less than a year later.

The losses shook not only personally but also professionally. The pair co-founded virtual assistant franchise business Pink Spaghetti in 2009 after bonding in their daughter’s baby swimming class. “We started to help the administrators. We then switched to Microviewsy support,” she says.

In their partnership, Matthews was the face of the business, while Going focused on operations and finance. “She was an extrovert, an optimist, a relationship guy. I was a planner in the background,” Gowing said. “All of a sudden I had to find a voice I didn’t know I had.”

That shift was just as horrifying as it was transformative. “Talking at meetings, doing interviews, it’s all outside of my comfort zone. But every time I do it, I think of Vicki. I do it for her.”

Navigating grief while stabilizing the company was a unique challenge. “The predictive grief was cruel. You grieve at the loss before it happens, but there’s no space to stop,” she says. “After she passed away, I finally started to grief properly and ensured that I led in a different way.”

Gowing is not the same entrepreneur. “I had to be tougher,” she says. “Vicki used to send difficult emails. Now that’s me. But I’ve also learned to lean more towards the team. I’ve now brought the decision right now, as Vicki can’t bounce back. It made us stronger as a unit.”

For additional support, she brought in a business coach and joined the British Franchise Association. “Having an external sounding board is essential,” she says. Pink Spaghetti continues to thrive, with sales of £2.9 million and more than 50 franchises.

Going is close to Matthews’ family and launched the Vicki Matthews Award every year to honor the top performance franchisees. “She’ll always be part of the business,” Gowing said. “I feel guilty about growing up without her, but I know she’s proud.”