Reflections from a Millennial’s midlife career redesign.
I remember entering college feeling like I had a solid life plan—I would graduate in four and become an occupational therapist. I had taken career assessments, shadowed different professionals, and completed a plethora of college preparation and success workshops. My academic prowess undergirded by personal empathy only affirmed that this was a solid trajectory. Any underlying doubts I had were easily dismissed as overthinking or obsessive rumination. I had a plan—one that was approved and validated by external parties. It checked all of the academic, financial, and logistical boxes for a responsible decision about my burgeoning adult life. I started freshman year in rank with my peers and professionals who seemed to organically know their career pathway.
Needless to say, after just three sessions of Biology 101 I was reminded that despite my ability to mentally and emotionally bludgeon myself into academic success—my interest and passion for studying science was pretty much non-existent. I shrugged off my failed life plan publicly, only to freak out in private. I wasn’t someone with parents paying tuition and bills nor would they provide a transitional safety net if I didn’t have life after college sorted. I needed answers. So to bandage this mental hemorrhage, I reassured myself that college was a time for exploration and renewed my belief that with hard work and the right attitude, I too would find my professional calling.
Fast forward a few years, and I finally declared a major. I chose Spanish and International Studies, mainly because no other classes left me feeling inspired and engaged. Yes, there were questions about the utility of my liberal arts degree as I didn’t want to teach, but I figured I could make my way interpreting or translating. I held onto that belief, graduated with honors, and secured a year-long internship, which only confirmed I had little interest in interpreting or translating. So my twenties became defined by trying out different jobs, employers, apartments, cities, states, and countries. I found meaningful work and places I could stay for a while but wrapping up my twenties, I still had little professional direction.
Turning thirty was my deadline for getting serious about establishing a career, if nothing else because I needed to pay back the student loans I had acquired while wayfaring in my twenties. People tried to be helpful by asking what I was extremely passionate about doing if money wasn’t a factor. However, the answer, “I want to help people bridge the gap between where they are and where they want to be in life” provided little resolve—especially as I shut down any suggestion of working as a guidance counselor or therapist. I continued working in different areas of education, moving up the ladder into socially respectable titles and roles while meeting financial goals. With each job, employer, and promotion I felt an internal optimism—like, this could be it! This could be my calling!!! After all, it appeared to others as though I had something figured out and with enough hard work, right?
Yet, as my thirties progressed, the same pattern emerged: A facade of professional success masked by personal discontent. No matter where I was and what I was doing, I grew tired and burned out from all of the office politics and favoritism; disorganized restructuring; covert sexism, racism, and ageism; expectations to do more with less; watching expertise and ethics bulldozed over by fiscal needs and egos; and listening to toxic leaders weaponize terms like “work family” and “the cause” to justify overwork and burnout (while of course holding employees personally accountable when it happened.) I watched some people make this system work for them and find content, so I wondered if something was wrong with me. But, as I listened to story after story, person after person who also felt like they were surviving instead of thriving—I felt the weight of a much larger reality.
Things finally came to a head in Spring 2023. Lockdown had ended, I was discontent and disheartened at work, and I had survived planning and hosting a Hindu-American wedding. (Fun fact: there’s no playbook for how to do that in one day). My student debt was paid off, I had replenished my savings, and as part of a dual-income household, I was experiencing financial security like never before as a legal adult. It became abundantly clear that I was at odds with a much bigger situation than just another disappointing employer. I had entered a new phase of life in a post-lockdown world—I was now a wife, daughter of aging parents and in-laws, homeowner, and dog mom. Everything had changed, so it was time for my way of navigating the world to do the same. Two months later, I left behind a comfortable salary and brilliant professional community to embark on a life and work redesign.
A year has now officially passed! What an emotionally exhausting, rewarding, frustrating, brilliant, overwhelming, spirit-inspiring shitshow of growth, recovery, and discovery it has been! For the first time since I left home for college, I have had real breathing room and capacity to design and develop what I want out of the next phase of my life. It has been bittersweet and challenging at times to say goodbye to old ways of thinking and being. Yet, the personal and professional baggage I continue to shed allows me to navigate life and work with more joy, passion, energy, and excitement.
So, here are three truths I’ve been reflecting on as I move forward into Liz 4.0:
There is no such thing as the “right” profession, job, or employer, much less the perfect one out there. We can find joy and content in our work, but we need to stop endorsing and chasing this idea of one true calling with the perfect professional scenario. Some of us will follow a linear career pathway from beginning to end, while others (like me) will have a career portfolio that allows for diverse and evolving professional experiences. We need to make space for everyone. The world is rapidly changing and so are our lives. If technology and the pandemic have taught us anything, it’s that the world today can and will look vastly different than that of tomorrow. That’s okay. Life is about figuring it out, for now, while being flexible enough to grow into the future.
Work culture in the United States is driven by capitalism and fueled by fiscal growth. It does not matter how well-intentioned a person, company, organization, institution, mission, values, or leadership are. Every industry and profession regardless of funding source is part of a business that sells something: a social cause, product, or service. Companies and organizations are doing their best to stay afloat. Decisions are made accordingly, so the system we have built seems to inequitably benefit those in positions of power and privilege, not the average everyday human. This does not mean work and business culture cannot change, but our livelihood depends on us being part of that change.
The American dream once promised is not accessible to a lot of individuals, no matter how hard they work. It’s a comforting premise to hold on to, but it's time to let go of “the good ole days” enjoyed in years past and consider that perhaps the roadmap we are following was and is continuing to be designed for a different place and time. The world has changed, we have changed—nothing is stagnant. As we age and develop we must take stock of the here and now in order to make strategic decisions. Student debt is mounting, affordable housing is dwindling, interest rates are booming, and gone are the days of employers offering pensions for retirement and diamond watches for your twentieth work anniversary. Younger generations are being forced to reconcile with the reality of this new and undefined world, so it’s time for us older generations to do the same. Change is hard, but we can do it.
While I am far from having my professional calling figured out (and happily accepting that I never will), I am optimistic about what lies ahead in my life. I’m incredibly grateful to my friends, family, and husband (especially him!) who have provided me with stability, sanity, reassurance, and resources throughout my yearlong journey especially. I am healthy, happy, and whole as I balance life as an entrepreneur among many wonderful new identities. Thanks to everyone for following along, and feel free to holler my way when you too are ready for a life and work redesign!
