Honest Talk // I Thought I’d Be Further Along In My Career

I’ve had a good career. And if not good by some people’s standards, then it’s definitely been interest-ing so far. Especially on paper, or when I have been interviewed. Yes, its the kind of career that has created opportunities to be in print, on radio, on TV. During the awkward small talk we can often find ourselves in - family gatherings, new parent meet-ups - the highlights of my career so far have pro-voked interesting topics of conversation. People are intrigued, or is that perhaps, amused?

As proud as I am of my work, however, I’m still not where I hoped I would be.

Is that how we all feel, I wonder?

I once read an interview with Kenneth Branagh saying he never stops worrying about working, con-cerned that he might never get another job once one job ends. You’d assume a thespian like Branagh would be top of his game, without a care in the world. So are we all fighting a fear in our respective industries, or do some of us climb a steady ladder whilst others ride a rollercoaster?

Recently, I have been looking at my CV. When you haven’t paid any attention to your CV in a while, it can bring up a whole host of emotions. It’s your history, in black and white. The mentors who you loved. The managers who destroyed bits of your soul. That era you remember thriving, learning. That period of time when you lost yourself. The ups and downs of your working life make up a huge chunk of your time. I’m a bit of a self-professed workaholic; I never do the minimum although I don’t think less of anybody who does (in fact, I respect it in many ways). I live and breathe whatever I am doing to make money because it’s the only way my heart and mind connect to create a strong work ethic. My heart has to be in it or my mind just won’t engage.

Then the panic sets in…

If I care so much about what I do, why am I back in a position of seeking opportunities. Why are they still not coming my way?

Whenever I ask this question, to myself, I am instantly hit with a heavy shower of possible answers, all of which are negative. Maybe you’re just not good enough. You need more experience. You should have chosen a different path. In fact, you chose the wrong path. You’re in a competitive industry. You don’t deserve the opportunity over anyone else.

In truth, opportunities have come along aplenty. But as I glance over my CV, I can’t find any pattern to how the opportunity arose. It just did. Some jobs were from working towards a clear goal for years and finally not hitting the post. With others, there was an element of luck. Or a favour became fruitful. Or I hustled to death and it paid off, for a while.

When the pieces of your work fit into place, it would be lovely to go back in time and tell your young-er, worried self that the jobs will come. That the bucket list ticks will happen. For someone who truly loves their work, like I do, when a job is going well it shines such a positive light on your life. The downside to this happens when that job comes to an end, whether it be natural or abrupt, or when it evolves into a waiting game or changes shape and becomes unrecognisable. It comes as a shock, the older I get, to find myself back at square one. I work in the creative industries so cannot speak for those in corporate ladder-climbing positions or say, doctors and healthcare professionals who are on a more structured career-path. But even then, surely there are times when you think, How did I end up here? I thought I would there…

Has motherhood had an effect on my career? Of course. There is still a generalised global lack of sup-port for mothers to return to work, not to mention the extortionate costs of childcare. Before I had children, I didn’t have a stop button on my working day. I’d stay at work until I “finished”. Whether that meant 30 minutes or many hours overtime, it didn’t matter. My responsibility was to nobody oth-er than myself. I could just keep going… and guess what happened? More opportunities came my way. More money appeared in my bank account. Now, when I clock off, the work waits until the fol-lowing day. There are many positives to this, of course. But there is less money being made.

I’m currently in the process of shaking up one side of my career, as the other part ticks along nicely. For now. It’s been a while since I wrote cover letters, tweaked my CV, tried to sell myself. Gosh, it’s hard. Perhaps even harder than it was as a twenty-something graduate innocently begging for a chance. It’s like when you make an effort to look like you’ve made no effort; the no make-up make-up look, the messy bun, the t-shirt and comfy jeans combo you’ve overthought and end up feeling un-comfortable in. Here I am, selling myself whilst trying to sound like I‘ve been sold to the highest bidder but just fancy a fresh change, which is exactly what you’re looking for… right?

Yuck.

In this kind of phase, it’s a cliche, but you have to count your blessings. Opening yourself up for re-jection is never going to be easy, but I tell myself that I have made the decision to do that. I could car-ry on, feeling unfulfilled and always wondering what if. That would at least protect me from the sick feeling I get in my stomach when I get an email saying, thanks but no thanks. And when that does happen, I breathe. I inhale and take a deeper breath. And another for good luck.

“Everything is just as it was,” I say. “That is all. Everything is just as it was.”