At the Crossroad
BY MORGAN E. LEIGH, ESQ.
At the Crossroad
BY MORGAN E. LEIGH, ESQ.
Following My Internal Compass
For the past 15 years, my professional life has focused primarily on criminal defense and domestic violence protective orders. Many days, I entered the courtroom carrying the weight of people’s fears, anger, and hope. I stood beside clients at their lowest points—when they were accused, when they were frightened, when they were misunderstood by a system that can be both complex and unforgiving. It was never just about statutes, rules, or sentencing guidelines. It was about humanity, fairness, and the belief that every person deserves to be heard. I carried the work home with me.
Criminal defense work has a way of shaping one’s outlook in ways that reach far beyond the courthouse. It is gritty, unvarnished, and deeply human. It teaches you to see the cracks in the system, but also the resilience in people. It shows you how lives can pivot on a single decision, a fleeting moment, or the steady hand of counsel who refuses to give up. And perhaps most importantly, it instills in you a heightened awareness of justice—not as an abstract principle, but as a lived experience that touches every corner of society.
That journey has marked me indelibly. But as I enter the next stage of my career, I find myself reflecting not only on what I have learned, but also on what my internal compass is urging me to do next. The urge to transition into environmental law grows stronger by the day. This urge of my internal compass had turned into a calling.
As I enter the next stage of my career, I find myself reflecting not only on what I have learned, but also on what my internal compass is urging me to do next.
Major career transitions are not merely logistical they are deeply internal. For lawyers, we often define ourselves by our professional roles, so the decision to step off a familiar path can feel almost like stepping into the unknown without a map.
The Known Path
There is comfort in the familiar. For many lawyers, once we have carved a niche, the profession rewards us for staying put. We build reputations, networks, and practices that are sustained by doing what we already know. There is security in it: steady referrals, established expertise, and the recognition that comes from long-term service in a particular field.
For me, that known path was criminal defense and domestic violence. I knew the rhythms of arraignments, the tactics of crossexamination, and the unspoken expectations of the courtroom. I could anticipate the arguments of opposing counsel and the concerns of the bench. Over time, that familiarity became second nature.
But there is also a risk in the known path: it can dull the inner voice that once drew us to the law in the first place. When professional identity becomes synonymous with the familiar, it is easy to confuse momentum with purpose. You continue moving forward, but not always in the direction that aligns with your deepest values. People change—the plans and career goals of our 20s and 30s change along with us. This has certainly been true for me.
Listening to the Internal Compass
About two years ago, I began to sense that quiet inner nudge becoming a stronger force. It has become a call to shift my focus to where my passions and values are most deeply rooted – environmental law. I’ve always found peace in nature, and I feel compelled to spend the rest of my career protecting it.
The law is truly vast. Each of us finds meaning in different corners of it. For me,
my internal compass began to point toward environmental law and the legal frameworks that govern how we interact with the natural world. It is a field as urgent as it is expansive, one that touches public health, economics, and intergenerational equity.
Making a pivot of this magnitude after a decade and a half in practice is no small undertaking. It requires humility to become a student again, courage to step into rooms where your name carries little weight, and openness to embrace the uncertainty of change. But it also offers the chance to align the skills honed through years of advocacy—persuasion, analysis, problemsolving—with the issues that resonate most deeply within me. It also requires sacrifice. As I work towards making the connections and achieving the professional development necessary to make this transition, I’ll inevitably spend less time with my family and have to decline personal and professional invitations. I’ll also likely have to turn away potential clients as I balance education, professional development, and my cases.
The Internal Journey of Change
Major career transitions are not merely logistical—they are deeply internal. For lawyers, we often define ourselves by our professional roles, so the decision to step off a familiar path can feel almost like stepping into the unknown without a map. Some days, there are doubts: Am I leaving behind too much? Will I regret walking away from what I know best? There are also fears—the fear of being seen as less accomplished in a new field, of losing the professional community you have built, of taking risks when the safer option is to stay the course. But, as Dr. Susan David said so eloquently: “Discomfort is the price of admission to a meaningful life.”1
1 David, Susan, Emotional Agility: Get Unstuck, Embrace Change, and Thrive in Work and Life (New York: Avery, 2016).
Through such a transition, there is also a feeling of liberation; the chance to rediscover why I chose a career in law in the first place. There is opportunity to grow not just as a professional, but as a person. And the reward of listening to that inner compass and realizing it has been guiding you faithfully all along.
The process is not unlike advising a client making a consequential plea decision: you lay out the risks, weigh the options, and ultimately recognize that only the client can decide the path forward. In our own careers, we become that client. Only we can decide whether to follow the charted course or heed the internal compass.
Lessons Learned from Criminal Defense
What gives me confidence in following this new direction are the very lessons I learned in criminal defense.
Resilience in adversity. Standing beside clients when the odds were stacked against them taught me that hope is not naïve—it is essential.
The power of advocacy. The ability to tell someone’s story persuasively is transferable to any field of law, whether defending liberty or defending the environment.
Perspective. Criminal defense teaches that every case, every statute, every courtroom decision has human consequences. That same perspective is needed in energy and environmental law, where the impacts of policy decisions are cross-generational.
In other words, my 15 years in criminal law were not an ending—they were preparation for what comes next.
The law is truly vast. Each of us finds meaning in different corners of it.
The Internal Compass vs. the Map
Most of us will face some version of this choice at some point: Do I continue along the familiar path, or do I take the risk of following my internal compass when I don’t know where it will lead? There is no universal answer. For some, the known path brings deep fulfillment, and that is enough. For others, the pull of a different direction becomes too strong to ignore.
What matters most is whether the choice is authentic. As attorneys, we ask our clients to trust us with their lives, their businesses, and their families. We owe it to ourselves to extend the same trust inward—to believe that our own instincts are worthy of being followed.
Conclusion
Fifteen years into practice, I find myself at a crossroads. Criminal defense shaped me, challenged me, and gave me a professional identity I will always carry with pride. But my internal compass points toward a new horizon, one that aligns with my passion for environmental preservation for the natural wonders that never cease to amaze me.
The transition is daunting, but it is also invigorating. And perhaps that is the broader lesson: that our careers in the law are not linear. They are journeys shaped as much by internal guidance as by external opportunity. As lawyers, we are trained to look outward—to precedent, to statutes, to rules. But sometimes the most important guidance comes from within. Listening to that voice and having the courage to follow it may be the most meaningful professional decision any of us can make.
Attorney Morgan Leigh is an experienced litigator who works with clients in criminal, domestic violence, and administrative matters in Maryland and the District of Columbia state and federal courts. Leigh began her career as an assistant public defender in Montgomery County, MD. After her time as a public defender, she took her experience into private practice, where she handled retained cases and courtappointed cases as a solo practitioner on the Criminal Justice Act (CJA) panel. She is currently enrolled part-time in Georgetown Law’s Environment and Energy Law LL.M. program while maintaining her solo law practice.