The first time I moved to Australia, I was 25, had no plan, and barely told anyone. It worked out. This time, I'm almost 40, married, trying to start a family, and "winging it" no longer cuts it. So before booking flights or scrolling through apartments at midnight, I did something more uncomfortable: I hired a coach to challenge my bullshit. Not to plan the move, but to plan the life waiting on the other side. This is part one: the part where we dream without apology.