She had a job offer, a week to decide, and no idea which way to jump.

The offer was a sideways move.

Offered, not applied for.

Her future manager had rung before the role was even advertised, and kindly given her an extra week to think.

And it was a genuinely good offer.

He was open to keeping the reduced hours and flexible schedule she'd worked hard to build.

In my experience, that's rarer than a pay rise.

That week was nearly up.

I've helped women through moments like this for 25 years, and the deadline week is always the most revealing.

Everything she's been quietly carrying tends to surface at once.

This was the last session of a coaching package we'd begun well over a year earlier.

In that time she'd held an awful lot together, at home and at work, mostly without anyone noticing.

So rather than weigh the three roles against each other, we went back to what she'd told me mattered most when we first started, and held each option up to that.

Her priorities hadn't changed.

Being the parent she wanted to be.

Showing her children what it looks like to go out to work and contribute.

And a little more ease and certainty for the next two or three years.

Against that list, the fog lifted quickly.

Growing her current role had too many unknowns.

The big role meant going back full-time into something intense, just as her days off had become precious.

The sideways move fitted.

Not perfectly, but clearly.

She told me just making the decision made her feel better.

I could hear it in her voice.

Undecided choices are heavy things to carry, and she'd been carrying three.

Then something else dawned on her.

Even on reduced hours, she'd be giving that team more than it was currently getting.

The man retiring from the role had rarely left his desk.

She was happy to make an overnight trip to see the wider team once a quarter.

She wasn't being fitted in or 'found a place' as a favour.

She was the upgrade for them!

Which made her next question all the more reasonable.

Almost as an afterthought, she wondered whether it would be cheeky to ask about a pay increase.

Cheeky? It's just information!

She also wanted her new manager's promise of flexibility put in writing, in case he moved on himself.

Not cheeky either.

Sensible.

Exactly the clause she'd insist on for anyone else.

Here's the part that surprised even her.

That job offer only existed because, some months earlier, she'd got in touch with a colleague simply to ask how he was.

In that conversation, he mentioned he was about to retire.

One conversation led to another, and before long the manager for his role was on the phone, offering it to her before anyone else had a chance to apply.

No application. No carefully timed chat with her boss.

Just "how are you?"

For far too long, I believed in the Fairy God-Boss: the one who'd spot me working diligently in the corner and say, "How come we never noticed you before? Have a promotion, a mentor and a pay rise!"

That fictitious character never came for me.

What actually worked for me looked far more like my client's approach.

My first real foothold in Dublin came from sitting cheerfully in a temp agency's reception until they found me work, then chatting happily to everyone who came through the door.

I've worked with other women returning from time away who haven't had nearly such a smooth landing.

Very often, the difference is whether they kept those conversations going while they were stretched thin.

We worked to ensure she did.

Through a demanding stretch, she kept asking people how they were, and actually meaning it.

After all, while we often like to complain; people are also our greatest sense of joy and connection at work.

Perhaps you're weighing up something of your own right about now.

An offer. A restructure. A quiet sense that it might be time to go.

If so, you may be hunting for the one missing fact that will settle it.

In my experience, the answer is rarely in the options.

It's in what you wanted before the options arrived.

Sometimes that turns out not to be the promotion at all.

She left that session with a decision, three conversations to have that week, and the rare feeling of being wanted rather than simply fitted in.

She laughed that her colleagues would say, "Finally, she's decided!"

The best career moves I've seen rarely start with an application.

They often start with someone who liked working with you.

I'm Dr Suzanne Doyle-Morris, an ICF Master Certified Coach with a PhD from Cambridge.

For 25 years I've helped experienced women through exactly these crossroads: the offer, the restructure, the stay-or-go.

I write about moments like this every week in my newsletter. You can subscribe on the front page of this website.

And if you're facing a decision of your own, I'd be glad to talk it through: e-mail me at suzanne@doylemorris.com.