By Betina Cunado
In the last few months, I’ve read many posts on Substack, mostly written by women, though a few by men, usually in their fifties, about the idea of starting over. These stories often revolve around quitting stable jobs for a life of more freedom, choosing early retirement to pursue a passion, or moving to a new country. Their experiences resonated deeply with me because, two years ago, I did something similar. I quit my job, moved from Buenos Aires to Paris, and embarked on what I like to call “my own literary adventure.”
However, last week, I rewatched a movie called Begin Again and started to wonder: Am I starting over or beginning again?
I first watched this movie in May 2015 while I was in London, a detail that feels important because it was a special moment in my life. Everything was finally falling into place. It was my second trip to London in less than six months, and I had already booked another visit for Christmas.
The plan was to live between London and Buenos Aires until my daughter finished university, and then move back to London (where we had lived in the nineties) to settle down. I was at the peak of my career, starting to make a name for myself internationally, and enjoying the kind of financial stability that allows you to make plans.
In the same week, David Cameron announced the Brexit referendum, and I remember feeling a sense of alert. However, at the time, I chose to ignore it. I had no idea that by the end of that year, I would be fired, the following year Brexit would become a reality, and all my carefully laid plans would be destroyed.
The movie follows the story of a young woman and a music producer, both of whom have had their lives shattered. She’s reeling from being dumped by her boyfriend for another woman, and he’s lost his job and the business he founded. By chance, they cross paths, opening up the possibility of rebuilding their lives, while recording a music album.
The soundtrack is fabulous, and the story is incredibly inspiring. It’s the kind of movie that leaves you with a warm, uplifting feeling; exactly how I felt when I first watched it back in 2015.
However, rewatching the movie last week was a completely different experience. Maybe it’s because now I truly understand what it feels like to have your life fall apart.
It also made me reflect on the subtle distinction between starting over and beginning again, something I hadn’t really noticed before.
When you start over, there’s still a connection with your previous life, a kind of continuum, with a clear element of choice involved. For instance, if you choose to retire early, you still receive the pension earned from your years of active work.
On the other hand, when you begin again, your previous life is completely lost, for whatever reason. There’s no continuity. Beginning again requires taking that first step on an entirely new path.
In the movie, both characters have the opportunity to start over: he could regain his job, and she could take her boyfriend back. But they choose not to.
Instead, they break away from the system and decide to distribute the album on their own terms, truly “beginning again.” You have to wait until the final scene to see how they pull it off, and I don’t want to spoil it for you, but watching that scene the other night gave me a whole new perspective on my own situation.
When I moved to Paris, I was all in on “starting over.” I was excited to improve my French and had even signed up for a creative writing course before I arrived. But my mother’s death changed everything. I realized the life I had known was gone. The “City of Light” quickly turned into a very dark place.
A few months ago, my mood started to get better. I decided to relaunch my Substack as a cultural magazine and committed to posting every Sunday.
After years as a legislative advisor and academic, writing for others, and being constrained by endless rules, I can finally speak my mind and be myself. Substack became my way of breaking free from the system. In my magazine, I’m not just a writer but also my own editor. Everything I write is my opinion and fully authentic.
I moved to Barcelona, and I really enjoy the rhythm of the city.
I am beginning again.
I know I am beginning again because my mindset has shifted. Substack showed me that the publishing industry is evolving in ways that could actually benefit writers. A year ago, I wouldn’t have thought about self-publishing a book; I only considered traditional publishing as a legitimate option. Now, I think: why not?
I know I’m beginning again because I’ve discovered skills and interests I didn’t know I had, and I’m excited to explore them.
I know I am beginning again because I’m carrying less baggage.
So here’s to breaking free, beginning again, and writing the next chapter on my own terms. The best part? This story is just starting, and like they sing in the movie, “everything is coming up roses.”
Betina Cunado is a lawyer, bioethicist, and writer in transition. She has journeyed from Buenos Aires to Paris and Barcelona, navigating between Spanish and English, transitioning from policy designer to entrepreneur. Creativity is her magic touch. Read her Substack.
Last Updated on October 13, 2025 by Editorial Staff
