Today we’d like to introduce you to Abigail Metsch.
Abigail, we appreciate you taking the time to share your story with us today. Where does your story begin?
How did I get to where I am today? Well, I’m not really sure where I am… but I do know I’ve lived about five different lives to get here.
When I was younger, I was very ambitious. Like, unreasonably so. I wanted to be a NASA astronaut, then the President of the United States, and eventually I settled on talk show host. Realistic pipeline, I know.
I did what ambitious kids do: I went into broadcast journalism. I studied it in high school, went to NYU for college, and then actually did the thing. I became a reporter in Illinois, and later an anchor and host in Texas. I was literally living the version of life I used to imagine.
And then one day… I just wasn’t anymore.
Not in a dramatic, movie-scene way. More like slowly realizing I was still doing the job, but not feeling the spark that got me there in the first place. I had achieved the thing I thought would define me, and instead of feeling like “this is it,” I found myself asking… “wait, is this it?”
So I left news.
Which sounds simple. But it was not simple.
It was very much an identity crisis.
When your entire sense of self is tied to a career you’ve worked your whole life for, walking away from it feels like stepping out of a version of yourself you’ve worn for years.
After that, I moved onto PR, basically going to the other side of storytelling. Same world, different lens. Instead of reporting stories, I’m now helping shape them. It’s given me a completely new perspective on how narratives are built, packaged, and shared.
And the truth is… I’m still figuring it out.
I’m just not trying to figure it out in the same way I used to.
I used to think the goal was to become one specific thing. Now I think the goal is to build a life that doesn’t fall apart if you stop chasing a title.
I’m proud of myself in a way I didn’t used to be. Not just for what I’ve done in my career, but for who I’ve become outside of it.
I finally understand something I probably should’ve learned earlier: I am not my job. My job is just what I do.
And honestly? That realization has been the most amazing thing I’ve done so far.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
Has it been a smooth road? Oof. Not at all.
My life and career have included multiple cross-country moves, the loss of my best friend and the person I call my “dad” in the same year, navigating a global pandemic, and dealing with serious mental health challenges.
On top of that, I went through a major career change that completely shifted my identity. I left broadcast journalism after building a career I had worked toward for years, which led to a significant identity crisis and a period of having to essentially start over from scratch.
There were so moments where it felt like I was constantly rebuilding… a new city, a new version of my career, a new version of myself… before I had fully grieved the last one.
Over time, I’ve learned that resilience isn’t about things being easy. It’s about continuing to move forward even when life forces you to reset more than once. Each chapter taught me something different about who I am, what I can handle, and what actually matters to me.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
If there’s one thing that’s been consistent throughout my professional life, it’s that I’ve always been fascinated by people.
Whether I was interviewing someone as a reporter, telling stories as an anchor, building relationships in public relations, or creating content through photography and video, the part I’ve loved most has always been the human connection. I genuinely enjoy learning about people, understanding what motivates them, and helping their stories reach the audiences who need to hear them.
Today, I work in public relations, where I specialize in storytelling, media relations, communications, and relationship-building. Throughout my career, I’ve worked across journalism, marketing, and PR, which has given me a unique perspective on how stories are created, shared, and received. I love finding the angle that makes people care and helping brands, organizations, and individuals communicate in a way that feels authentic and meaningful.
What I’m most proud of isn’t necessarily a specific title or accomplishment. It’s the relationships I’ve built along the way. Some of the most meaningful opportunities in my life and career have come from genuine connections with people, and many of those relationships have lasted far beyond a single job or chapter of my life.
I think what sets me apart is that I truly care about people. I want others to feel seen, valued, and supported. Whether I’m working with a client, collaborating with a colleague, or meeting someone for the first time, I try to lead with empathy and curiosity. Technical skills can be learned, but making people feel heard and appreciated is something I’ve always valued.
At the end of the day, every role I’ve had has really been about the same thing: connecting with people through stories. The platforms have changed, but the purpose hasn’t.
We all have a different way of looking at and defining success. How do you define success?
For most of my life, I defined success by achievement.
Success was getting into NYU. Success was becoming a reporter. Then an anchor. Then finding the next goal, and the next one after that. I was always chasing the next milestone because I thought success was something you earned once you finally became “enough.”
The funny thing is, every time I reached one of those milestones, the feeling was temporary. There was always another mountain to climb.
It took me a lifetime (or at least the first 29 years of it) to realize that success has a lot less to do with what your life looks like and a lot more to do with how your life feels.
Today, I define success as waking up excited about the day ahead. It’s having people I love and who love me back. It’s feeling at peace with who I am, even when I don’t have all the answers. It’s being able to laugh often, be present, and enjoy the life I’ve worked so hard to build.
Of course, I still care about my career. I still have goals, ambitions, and things I want to accomplish. But my career is no longer the measuring stick for my worth.
If everything disappeared tomorrow, the job title, the LinkedIn profile, the resume, I would still really like the person looking back at me in the mirror.
To me, that’s success.
And the best part is that I figured that out at 29. Hopefully I have many more years ahead of me to embrace it.
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