You are a woman of leisure, now.

My friend Aneal said this over dinner in cosy Battersea, London.

Apparently, because I no longer have a corporate job, my days are now dedicated to leisure and enjoying myself.

A woman of leisure.

Sure.

A very busy woman of leisure.

When I look back at 2026 so far, it's actually been a bit ridiculous.

In January, I moved from the Geneva area to Barcelona with my 12-year-old, Matthias, and officially joined Astrum's team here.

My 17-year-old, Gabriel, stayed behind to finish his French Baccalaur鬬at, together with our dog. My eldest, Théo, was doing his Swiss military service.

At the same time, I moved out of our home near Geneva, eventually brought the dog to Barcelona, and helped Gabriel figure out what came next after his Baccalauréat.

Then there was buying a place in Barcelona.

That became its own adventure. A deposit I nearly lost and more than a few sleepless nights later, I now have the most gorgeous apartment near Plaça Catalunya, tourist crowds and all.

And if you happen to be passing through Barcelona, you are very welcome to join me for a coffee on the terrace. It is one of my favourite places to sit, talk, think and occasionally pretend I am actually a woman of leisure.

I also somehow had to get three boys ready for three completely different next chapters.

Gabriel starting business school at EADA in Barcelona.
Théo moving to Bilbao to study computer science and video game development at DigiPen.
Matthias starting at the Lycée Français de Barcelone.

Basically, my family logistics started looking suspiciously like a multinational operating model.

Somewhere in the middle of all of that, I also resigned from my CCO role.

And no, in case you're wondering, I am not about to backtrack on all of this and send everyone back to Switzerland. Heavens, no. We are here now.

In July, we spent three wonderful weeks travelling through Mexico. Beautiful places, incredible food, proper family time, and testosterone and mansplaining at Olympic level.

I love my boys dearly. I would also occasionally like to be right without a panel discussion.

In August, I prepared what may possibly have been the most comprehensive commercial handover in CRO history.

No one asked for an award, but I remain open to nominations.

I also volunteered at Athletissima, the Diamond League meet in Lausanne, interviewing athletes in the mixed zone just after their performances and writing flash quotes for the media.

And yes, Armand "Mondo" Duplantis is still my hero.

There are worse ways to spend your free time.

So now I'm supposedly a woman of leisure.

Except I'm building ChiliPink and NoGap properly.
I'm exploring senior commercial opportunities, including fractional and advisory work.
I'm writing more, learning more, meeting people and thinking about what I actually want the next chapter to look like.

I turn 50 next year, and I've never felt more ambitious about making an impact or more emotionally prepared for retirement.

Which is either an interesting combination, or a sign that I want everything.

The biggest change, though, is probably how I think about work itself.

For most of our careers, we get very good at answering the question, "What do you do?"

We answer with a title.

CCO. Director. Founder. Consultant.

It's neat, easy to explain, easy to put on LinkedIn.

Very convenient for other people.

But what happens when you stop needing one box?

I'm beginning to think the next chapter of my career may be less about finding the perfect job and more about building the right portfolio.

That portfolio could absolutely include stepping back into the right executive seat. It could also include advisory work, ChiliPink, NoGap, speaking, writing, learning, and something new in AI that I'm not quite ready to talk about yet.

And probably a few things I haven't thought of yet.

I'm still figuring it out, which I suspect is slightly less elegant than the people who say they have a five-year plan.

That's also what I want this newsletter to be about.

Of course I'll write about life sciences, commercial leadership, growth and technology. Those are the worlds I know.

But I also want to write about reinvention.

About what we learn after decades of working.

What we get wrong.

What changes our minds.

And what happens when we finally allow ourselves to ask different questions.

What do I actually want to build next?
How do I want to be remembered?
And, perhaps equally important, do I really need another job title to explain myself at dinner?

Maybe you're asking yourself some of the same things.

Maybe you're still in the corner office, doing brilliantly by every metric that matters, and quietly wondering if it's still what you want.
Maybe you got made redundant well before you would have chosen it yourself.
Maybe you're building something on the side, telling almost no one, waiting to see if it becomes real.

This newsletter is for senior leaders in life sciences and beyond who are rethinking what work looks like after 40 and 50: still ambitious, but no longer willing to bet everything on one title or one company.

I don't have all the answers. But I think it will be interesting to work some of them out, in public, together.

Expect a note like this every few weeks: part story, part reflection, part practical takeaway you can use in your own next chapter.

So welcome to Closing the Gap.​
If this resonated, subscribe and send it to someone else who might also be somewhere between boxes.

And if one sentence in this resonated, hit reply and tell me which one. I read every message.

Apparently written by a woman of leisure.

A rather busy one.