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When Stylist launched in October 2009, we had a very specific agenda in mind: to create a thought-provoking, empowering and overtly feminist media brand that would only raise women up as opposed to tear them down.

Staying true to our manifesto meant sticking to a few rules: diets - and any other form of negative body scrutiny - were strictly off limits; scurrilous gossip and conjecture were to be avoided at all costs; and lastly, we would only ever seek out interviews with informed, talented and inspirational women.

And for the majority of the past decade we have had countless of those women on our pages: from Hillary Clinton and Nigella Lawson, to Jessica Ennis and Sheryl Sandberg and beyond - all sharing their wisdom and experience with the Stylist audience.

It was the desire to harness this wisdom which in 2014 saw us launch our hugely successful Life Lessons franchise: a series of events designed to give the women we respect and admire a platform to share their number one ‘life lesson’ in a succinct fifteen-minute talk. Passing on the words of wisdom they’ve used to steer their own lives and decisions to women everywhere in a wonderfully digestible way.

But if it’s worth saying out loud, then it’s most definitely worth writing down. And so here we are with our very first Life Lessons book: an anthology of essays from twenty-five inspirational women that includes everyone from Olympic boxing champion Nicola Adams OBE to self-made businesswoman Bobbi Brown and foreign correspondent Christina Lamb OBE. Their life lessons are varied; some endearing and bittersweet, others brimming with confidence and empowerment. But all are must-read and enriching - sentiments and learnings to return to again and again.

Lisa Smosarski, Editor-in-Chief, Stylist

The clock at the corner of my screen flashed to 17:01 and I scanned the office. The designers were animatedly brainstorming, the editors scratched away at a tower of proofs while the writers tapped feverishly on their keyboards, all working as fast as they could to hit deadline. Me? I was picking up my handbag and trying to sidle out of the room, desperate not to be noticed.

‘See you tomorrow,’ I whispered as I slipped out the door. I knew half the team were going to be sat there for another three or four hours, probably eating dinner at their desks. And where was I going? Home, that was where, to the seven-month-old baby I’d left for the first time that morning.

As I faced the unfamiliar 5 p.m. scrum on the packed tube train I was racked with guilt. Not for my baby, that was something I’d expected, planned and steeled myself for. No, it was for the colleagues I’d left at their desks. I had never been scared to put the hours in. In fact, I’d never not been the last person in the office. And now what had I done? Abandoned them, that’s what. I really hadn’t anticipated just how hard that was going to be.

I spent the next few years trying to make it work. I’d leave home at 7.20 a.m. and start sending emails on the bus, head to the office to a day packed with relentless meetings, run – often late – for nursery pick up, bathe my son, then pick up my phone, laptop or pile of proofs and carry on. I’d work antisocially, sending emails at 6 a.m. or 11 p.m. that people then felt obliged to reply to. Cue more guilt. Looking back I can acknowledge that was my way of trying to avoid invisibility, but by trying to prove I was putting in the hours I was working longer – and harder – than ever before.

So this was having it all then, was it? The concept I’d grown up just accepting would be mine. Feeling guilty at home. Guilty at work. And completely bloody exhausted.

Our feminist foremothers had spent years fighting for this, millions of books had been sold on the topic, so why was I finding it so tough? I’m not the first woman in the world to have a career and a baby, after all. And more importantly, was this the having it all I’d been working so hard for?

The more I danced this tango the more I questioned it. Because who – name me just one person, man or woman – has it ‘all’? When you stop and think about it, that’s a pretty ridiculous notion. Greedy even. Who needs it all? There’s only twenty-four hours in a day and it’s compulsory for you to sleep for some of them. At least for a bit.

Of course the idea of having it all was born from the philosophy that women could – and should – be entitled to choose a family and a career. Just like men. That choosing a family didn’t mean having to stay home. Or by choosing a career you were destined for a life without children or a partner. It was an important part of a feminist fight by brave and resilient women – and, don’t get me wrong, one which I will be eternally grateful for. I wouldn’t be me without my career. Or my family for that matter.

But that concept has evolved and mutated. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact beginnings of our current ‘having it all’ – a shorthand for doing everything in life brilliantly – and, most importantly, without guilt. But the launch of a 1982 book by the legendary editor of US Cosmopolitan Helen Gurley Brown, entitled Having It All: Love, Success, Sex, Money, Even If You’re Starting With Nothing, has got to be fairly important. The title of that book created a global myth that as women we could – and should – be living every part of our lives to the full. Or we were somehow failing miserably. Unlike our male peers who were still carrying on as before, having, but not doing, both. It made women feel they were lacking if they wanted to stay home with their families. And vice versa – what is wrong with wanting to forgo family for a career? ‘Having it all’ came to stand for the life goals for a new wave of feminists – not just a quest to be equal with men, but to do it better somehow. It was recently revealed that Gurley Brown had never liked the title of the book or the tone it set, but the publishers had pushed it through. How I wish Gurley Brown had won that battle.

Before I knew it, I was unwittingly perpetuating the myth too. As editor-in-chief of Stylist I became known as a career woman with kids, often asked to take a seat on panels for working women on how to ‘juggle’ (gag, a hideous genderized word … but that’s a whole other essay) to explain my secrets to doing it all. The rooms were always full because it turns out, for most women (read humans), it’s quite a big ask. Guests were expectant that some life-changing tip was about to be revealed that would make this expectation an easy reality. But I didn’t have any advice. How would I know? I felt guilty all the time. I missed important work dinners and bring-your-parent-to-nursery days. I would turn up to drinks with friends late. And my husband? Well if we got to have dinner that was a novelty. And I was working. All. The. Time. I would peer at my tiny phone screen for hours each day. Getting home in the evening, the point at which I’d be swapping from my very literal editor’s heels to comfy flats, I’d feel blurry and jittery, bogged in a cortisol haze. I didn’t feel good.

But the questions continued. ‘How on earth do you do it?’ people would ask expectantly. ‘I don’t,’ I’d reply flatly. And it was that question which finally made me accept my truth.

‘I can’t do it all. And … (whisper it) … neither can you.’

Yes, I felt like a traitor to the cause, the archetypal Bad Feminist, but this admission felt good. Because it was the first time I’d admitted it to myself too, that I couldn’t do it all. No one could. And that was never the point anyway. The message just got muddled along the way.

So I’m not saying you shouldn’t aspire to have a career and a family. In fact, I’m saying the opposite … go for it. You can have both. Because I do. And for that, I think my life is pretty great, stress and angst included. But I just don’t think I’ll ever have it ‘all’. And by that I mean the perfect amount of time at home with my children, a full presence at the school gates and in the office, feeling fulfilled in all my personal ambitions while fulfilling the needs of others. Oh and, you know, hosting fabulous parties, ensuring my kids don’t live on fish fingers alone, always having washed and bouncy hair, being up to date on all the books I have piled by my bed while also understanding every intricacy of the Brexit negotiations, ready to discuss passionately with interesting strangers in cool new bars. That ‘have it all’. Because I have tried. And failed. And so will everyone else. And that failure steals from all the great stuff we actually do have.

Because you can have a hell of a lot. And certainly as much as a man, which is where this all started anyway. But it does involve the dreaded C word … compromise. Something our male compadres learned a long time ago. Historically, men worked long days in the office but were often absent at home. That’s not the dream. Nor the goal. But it is compromise.

So for me that means being more flexible, letting my priorities fluctuate. I’ve cancelled a trip to Milan Fashion Week to be with my son for his first day at school. And I would do it again in a flash. But there will be other occasions when I need to sit down and explain why mummy won’t be there, that I need to be at work instead. Compromise.

I know I’m lucky to have what I’ve got. A truly fantastic career, three incredible children, a patient husband and the best of friends. And now I’ve stopped chasing that elusive ‘all’ I’m hoping I’ll be able to enjoy it too.

Oprah, a woman I rarely quote, but I should because she is a sage of our time, once said, ‘You can have it all, just not all at once.’ And these are words I can squarely get on board with. Because having it all is really about learning the art of patience. Of finding a way through your busy life to get what YOU want out of it. And not punishing yourself when you have to say, ‘I can’t do that’ – whatever your ‘that’ might be. So when that clock next hits 17:01 and you really do have to leave, do it with pride. Don’t skulk to the door; tap dance, fanfare, own the life you’ve created. You can have a hell of a lot and do it amazingly. You just can’t have it all.

I am someone who likes a challenge. I am incredibly curious, I like the unknown, and I like to try new things. I believe in simple solutions, but I like to challenge myself to identify more interesting ways to do things. As soon as something stops being challenging, I like to change it up. When I do the same thing over and over again, I stop being inspired and stop producing my best work.

That’s not to say change is always easy. I think a lot, but often act without thinking. That was not the case, however, when I made the decision to leave my namesake brand after almost twenty-seven years. That was not an instant decision. I didn’t just wake up and say, ‘today’s the day’. The brand was my baby, my pride and joy, and who I was. I believed make-up should be simple and easy to apply. I loved being able to teach women the simplicity of beauty, but also how to rock a smoky eye or a bright red lip. I was surrounded by amazing and inspirational creative teams, who were also my friends. There were so many reasons I loved my job, until I didn’t any more.

Things weren’t working for me and I was becoming increasingly frustrated and aggravated. There was and is a shift happening, not only at the brand, but in the industry. At first, I was optimistic (and a bit naive) and thought I could fix things and make everything better. I was vocal and honest. I told the truth. I confided in many of my mentors and confidants, seeking guidance from them. I held the hope that I could make a difference and turn things around as I had so many times before in the company’s history. I am the kind of person who likes to forge her own path, and whenever I see something isn’t working, I look for a solution.

There are people who stay in unhappy marriages for way too long. Sometimes for financial reasons, or sometimes it’s fear or simply feeling stuck. To stay in a situation that isn’t working for you, whether it’s a job or a relationship, isn’t healthy. Sure, it’s risky to upend your life and start over again – but if you don’t take a chance then you’ll never know.

When I did decide that it was time to leave, I knew instinctively that I’d done the right thing. First I felt relieved, then I was excited about all of the possibilities ahead of me. All the things I didn’t have time to do, I could now make time for. I have never been to the Statue of Liberty; I haven’t sat in a café with a cappuccino in years; I still want to take hip-hop dance classes, and I really want to be available to do last-minute things with my husband, boys and girlfriends. The world is my oyster.

However, I’d be lying if I told you this has all happened since my departure from the brand. There were a few weeks spent with lawyers and new PR people to handle my announcement and my exit from the company. There were emotions that I wasn’t expecting to feel, like anger, sadness and loss. I’ve learned that these feelings were normal for me to experience. It was hard to say goodbye to my driver, who was in my driveway every morning and one of my closest confidants, and I worry about the girls who came to my house on Halloween expecting the lip glosses I gave away every year. I am lucky that I have a big support system and people willing to let me vent. My yoga teacher, who was highly recommended, became my life coach. It was time to adapt and adjust. It’s funny how hard it is to not only be in control of your own destiny, but your own schedule as well. I was so used to every second of every day being scheduled with a meeting, photo shoot, interview, etc. I couldn’t help feeling a little lost when I woke up some days and didn’t have to catapult out of bed.

But you never know when some little act of kindness will change everything. A group of us went away for my husband’s birthday, and one night at an outdoor dinner party the chef in charge introduced himself to me and told me his wife was a big fan of my brand. I told him of my transition and that I was thinking of doing something new. He said, ‘Hey, you got this!’ Every time I saw him he said it again. Soon, I started saying it back to him, ‘I got this!’ A few months later, I put that slogan on a sweatshirt and hat and started selling them in a concept store I was creating. Those few words gave me the confidence I needed at the time. Chef Victor was the guy I needed to see at that time.

Women are forced by societal expectations to be flexible, and constantly reinvent themselves. Having children may not change you as a person, but it certainly changes the way others look at you, and it also allows you to become, quickly, someone who is a multitasker and fast on your feet. We’re also taught not to take our success for granted – which I think means you have to continue to work at it. And work harder. Just think of the adage, ‘a woman’s prerogative is to change her mind’! Starting over is built into our psychological DNA, and that’s something we should all learn to take advantage of. Long before I left Bobbi Brown Cosmetics, I was pressing reboot on areas of my life that weren’t working out for me: swapping negative relationships for newer, more positive influences; accepting when to delegate, and when to step away.

I know I have an unfair advantage when it comes to leaving one business in favour of launching another. I try to remind myself of an important approach: if everything collapses in on itself, or I realize I’ve made a mistake, what’s the very worst thing that could go wrong? I’ve already achieved a lot more than I ever imagined. Recently I found myself in Whole Foods, when I bumped into a man I’d known in a professional capacity, who was now working in the gourmet food department. I asked him what he was doing, and he explained that his company had recently gone through a round of redundancies. He didn’t feel comfortable sitting at home, waiting for a new job offer to appear in his inbox, so he headed to Whole Foods and found some work to keep him occupied in the meantime. ‘It’s much easier to feel good about yourself if you’re busy,’ he said. And he’s right. If things go wrong – if starting over sends you sideways – then try to keep busy. Get up and get out and you’ll go forwards.

There are still moments when I can’t believe how fortunate I am to be able to change my life. Change is cleansing – it’s like breathing after yoga: you’re getting the negative energy out, and letting the positive in. My life has gone from being very, very complicated to very, very simple and straightforward. I already feel calmer. The biggest thing I realized is that nobody is ever going to simplify my life for me. If you want a change, then you have to take the initiative, because no one else will do it for you. And if you want a fresh start, then you have to be the person who takes the risk, because otherwise, nothing will ever happen. As well as founding Bobbi Brown Cosmetics, I was beauty editor of The Today Show for fourteen years. When that ended, I became editor of a beauty magazine at Yahoo. And when that came to an end, I became lifestyle editor of New York’s biggest radio show. Every single one of those roles was a role that I wanted – and every one was a role that I actively pitched for. The opportunities didn’t come to me when I was sat at home, they came when I went after them.

It’s easy to look at the world right now and feel like nothing’s working. However, I like looking at life as an opportunity. If you aren’t happy, pull back and reinvent the way you are doing things. Taking a chance and starting over is scary – but if you ask me, happiness is worth taking a risk for.

PENGUIN LIFE