The Media Line: Stories of Hope: Version 2.0—When Vocation Matches Avocation 

Stories of Hope: Version 2.0—When Vocation Matches Avocation 

A former Wall Street executive reinvents her life, aligning career and calling while building new ecosystems of connection, purpose, and resilience 

By Tanya Tylevich/The Media Line 

Editor’s Note: At a time when headlines are dominated by war, loss, and division, The Media Line has launched a new series, Stories of Hope, to make room for something often missing from the news cycle: stories that illuminate resilience, meaning, and the human capacity to endure and build, even in difficult circumstances. These pieces do not deny hardship or pain. Rather, they explore moments of purpose, courage, creativity, and connection—sometimes quiet, sometimes bold—that remind us what is still possible. 

“Version 2.0—When Vocation Matches Avocation” is the third installment in a three-part autobiographical series by Tanya Tylevich. Part 1 is here and Part 2 is here. 

Becoming Version 2.0 of myself sounds like a total cliché, and I usually steer clear of clichés in my story. But honestly, what else do you call a full-on upgrade? This wasn’t some minor bug fix; it was a major system reboot. 

In case you’re wondering about the title: Vocation is your profession or job. Avocation is something you pursue simply because you love it. For me, these two finally aligned, a game-changer. 

I had a long corporate career. I went from odd jobs to Wall Street, and I spent more than two decades at Goldman Sachs (GS). It became a huge part of my identity. And I think this happens to many of us: our job becomes who we are. When that gets stripped away, we feel lost. But after GS, I gave myself a different kind of freedom, the freedom to find out who I really am. 

It took about four or five months (and a lot of long walks and self-pep talks) to realize that the only way to truly be myself was to make a complete career shift. At first, I figured I’d just dust myself off and join another Wall Street firm. But something felt… off. The fire wasn’t there anymore. During some of those Zoom interviews, I caught myself secretly hoping they wouldn’t offer me the job. Somewhere deep inside, a voice was whispering (okay, yelling): Reinvent yourself already! 

Then—bam—it happened. One door had clearly slammed shut. But I couldn’t quite see where the next one was. So, I did what I always encourage others to do: I reached out to someone I barely knew, but whose career transformation I deeply admired. After two decades leading a top-tier investment banking career, he had the courage (and brilliance) to start fresh, build something new, spin it out, and make it real. 

What began as a casual coffee chat quickly turned into a conversation, the one that cracked open a door I hadn’t seen before. A lot of credit for that goes to Rohan Doctor, founder and CEO of Louisa AI. My coffee catch-up with Rohan turned into one of those rare aha moments. Rohan once wrote on LinkedIn: “Basically, we’re digitizing what Tanya has been doing for years—connecting good people to do great business with each other.” I still smile when I think of that line. When someone sees you and lends a hand when you’re not at your highest, it means the world. 

Over the course of my career, people often told me I had an instinct for cultivating relationships and a strange superpower for understanding what truly motivates others. I could connect those motivations to real actions that moved things forward. Somewhere along the way, I earned a reputation as a relationship-building powerhouse (their words, but I didn’t argue). I also knew I could be pretty persuasive, especially when it came to crafting win-win solutions. And let’s be honest, persistence might as well be my middle name. 

That realization helped me uncover what I genuinely love to do: using my leadership skills and emotional intelligence to bring extraordinary people together, spark ideas, and build amazing things as a team. 

I once read that making a real career leap means starting fresh, even with your network. At first, it sounded extreme, but it stuck with me. So, I shifted focus: I started following founders, reading stories of disruption, and engaging with posts that sparked something. Instead of just observing, I began participating, and slowly, a new kind of network began to form around me. 

Following my passion and intuition, I began working on my own rebranding. I recently read On Brand by Aliza Licht (highly recommend!), and honestly, I wish I’d discovered it earlier in the journey. So much of what she wrote resonated deeply, especially her advice not to make your company your identity. For 23+ years, I never imagined a world beyond GS. I’d never met with a recruiter, never even created a résumé. Let’s just say rebranding didn’t come with a manual, but this book came pretty close. 

It’s funny: I used to think my “superpower” was my ability to survive 20+ years in the same high-intensity environment. Looking back, the real superpower was being able to see the people around me, not just their roles or résumés, but their spark, their potential, and the magic that happens when the right people find each other at the right time. 

Originally, I didn’t plan to write about my health. But I realized that without it, the picture would be incomplete. I’ve been living with a very unusual form of autoimmune-related chronic fatigue, and it hasn’t exactly made day-to-day life or career growth any easier. 

Resilience holds multiple meanings for me, not just tied to my immigrant story, but also to something I’ve quietly battled over the past 15–20 years: a rare dysautonomia condition. In simple terms, my body doesn’t handle temperature changes well. A cold conference room, or even an AC draft, can trigger symptoms that mimic a severe bronchial spasm reaction. I’ve come down with bronchitis just from sitting under the wrong vent. 

It’s manageable, but far from easy. Alongside preparing for meetings, I also have to prepare for the room: layering up, scouting out seats, and sometimes even switching chairs mid-meeting just to avoid a draft (and yes, I’ve mastered that art). Because this condition is rare and invisible, people often don’t understand it and unintentionally form assumptions. That, too, has been a lesson in resilience. 

It took me a while to overcome my hard-working, “everything is great” immigrant mentality and openly acknowledge my illness. I’ve always been skeptical of HR’s motto, “Bring your whole self to work,” and it turns out my intuition wasn’t wrong. What sounded supportive on the surface carried a far more dangerous meaning for me at one point in my life. Still, my glass is half full. And if yours feels half empty, do yourself a huge favor—change it. This challenging experience, which at times felt like betrayal, ultimately helped me discover who I am. Instead of cutting my wings, it gave me an unexpected push to fly. 

To me, resilience isn’t just about bouncing back. It’s about calmly acknowledging a challenge, making peace with it, and finding a way forward, strategically, persistently, and with grace. It’s what makes it possible to live fully and not shrink. 

On October 7, 2023, life for so many was divided into before and after… On that Black Saturday, for the first time in my life, I said, “Thank God my father is not alive. Thank God he doesn’t have to witness this horror—the flashbacks of Hitler’s playbook once again.” 

In February 2024, I traveled to Israel as part of the Israel Tech Mission (ITM). That visit left an incredible mark on me: three days that shook my world. There are certain actions in life that define who you are, and joining ITM was one of them. 

I saw something extraordinary: resilience, unity, and brilliance rising out of heartbreak. I met founders who refused to give up, even when their teams were mobilized, their families scattered, and their homes under threat. I met investors who didn’t just write checks, but showed up in person, in spirit, and in action. 

That trip didn’t just change how I work. It changed how I show up. I no longer separate the personal from the professional. I want the work I do to reflect the values I live by: integrity, empathy, courage, and connection. 

At one of the ITM meet-ups, I suddenly experienced another “aha” moment, much like the one I had on the Y2K night at GS, a sense of purpose that runs deeper than any title, role, or deal sheet. A room full of people who cared, not just about business, but about building, defending, and healing something much bigger than themselves. 

What I also realized was that for the last couple of years, I still had one foot in GS, which made it harder to step fully into what was next. As sentimental as it was, I had to take that step. Bravely, I put the word “former” in front of GS and named myself the Echo System Builder. Turns out, there is actually a name for what I do: bringing people together and turning connections into real magic. 

So, what exactly do I do now—what is my orbit, and who’s in it? 

At GS, we used to call it connecting the dots, and that’s really what shaped me. I saw that value is created when the right dots connect at the right moment: a conversation, an introduction, a shared idea that turns into something bigger. 

That’s exactly how I operate in the startup world today. I look for those sparks, places where two dots haven’t met yet but absolutely should. I work across companies and investors to unlock shared growth, innovation, and strategic opportunities. I specialize in connecting the right people, ensuring each party involved has something to gain, and cultivating trust-based partnerships that deliver long-term value. When you bring the people, talent, and capital together, ecosystems start to form almost organically. 

Someone once told me: “You’ve got the soul of a builder, the heart of a connector, and the instincts of a dealmaker.” That’s exactly how I see it: this is my real calling. There’s something incredibly fulfilling, almost magical, about the moment your vocation starts to feel like your avocation. 

For years, I poured my energy into my career. While I found success, I wasn’t always sure it reflected the fullest version of me. Now, every day feels different. I get to do the things that energize me most: connect people, spark ideas, and build something that matters. It’s not just a job; it’s who I am, finally in sync. 

Life has a way of being unpredictable, pushing us to constantly redefine and evolve. So, when someone asks me, “What are you doing these days?” the simplest yet most profound answer is: “Making the world a better place.” For me, that means sharing stories that inspire and connect. 

Wholehearted thanks to my family, to the firm that was my second home for more than two decades, to the startup founders, CEOs, and investors; to ITM, the CEO Blindspots and The Listening Bea Podcasts, and to FDD. You’ve been, and continue to be, not just part of my story, but part of the greater impact I hope to make. 

PHOTO – My family, March 2025. (Courtesy Tanya Tylevich)