Remember the big solar eclipse that fell on April 20th, 2023? The fact that I was going this huge life and identity crisis, combined with the fact that this eclipse happened to fall on my birthday, and that Western Australia was one of the most magical places in the world to view it, felt eerily significant.
That morning I met one of my besties, Sophie, at a local nature reserve for a walk, followed by birthday pancakes.
Naturally, I was still in emotional turmoil about my situation. As we sat and chatted in the cafe, I shared with Sophie how desperate Dom and I were to keep the business afloat. It was a conversation we’d had too many times to count.
Sophie looked at me for a moment and pursed her lips. “Would it be so bad if you left the business behind?”, she asked gently in her wise, don’t-startle-the-unsuspecting-creature kind of way. “Let’s say, just out of curiosity… if you did decide to return to the corporate world, what would be the first step?”
“Well…” I said, mulling it over, more to humour her than anything else. “I guess I could reach out to Jenna and see if she knows if any jobs are available?” Jenna and I had worked on the same team in my last role over a decade ago, and had remained close ever since.
That was it. The moment the words left my lips, something inside me shifted.
As a heavy shadow fell across the earth, Sophie and I headed into a clearing to watch the late morning sky show (safely, of course!). I could practically hear my mind as it whirred into overdrive; clicking together new pieces of this wild plot twist I’d never seen coming.
As I drove home afterwards, I felt so peculiar. It felt uncannily like the moment I first discovered sober blogs and realised there might be another way. Scared, unsure, but oh-so-hopeful.
Once again, I found myself doing what I’d done in the final days of my drinking: searching for answers.
Now that this kooky idea was actually beginning to take hold, I needed to find proof that there was a better way. I wanted to know that people had returned to the corporate world and were actually happier on the other side. I mean, was that even possible?
As luck and the Universe would have it, the following day as I scrolled Facebook, I came across a post from one of the many entrepreneurial groups I’m part of. The post was from a woman I hadn’t heard of before, Karly Nimmo. Fascinated, I clicked on her post, as this brave and beautiful soul shared that she’d done exactly that, linking her latest podcast episodes on the topic.
Grabbing my headphones, I settled in, laughing and crying in recognition throughout every step of her journey:
God, it felt good to know we weren’t alone.
Searching for more evidence, I stumbled across articles like this, this and this. The more stories I read, the more my mind cracked opened to alternatives, and the more I began to brainstorm options.
What if we just took part-time jobs, or full-time for a certain period like 12 months or so - just until the biz got back on it’s feet and we were no longer burnt out?
It was incredibly comforting to hear there was life after entrepreneurship (just as there was after drinking!), and yet still, I went to bed every night begging the Universe to allow me to stay on this path.
Change is hard, y’all.
On one particularly devastating morning when I could barely get out of bed from the grief, I reached that pivotal breaking point where the pain of remaining stuck becomes greater than the pain of change.
I’d had enough. I couldn’t stand being trapped in limbo any longer.
That morning, Dom and I fired up our computers, opened up our old resumes… and spent the next few hours trying to make sense of the utter gibberish written there. If you’ve ever had the experience of revisiting a career or a phase of study after ten years, you’ll know what I mean.
It was like a foreign language. Like, really? I used to do all this stuff? How?!
Determined to forge ahead, we doubled down, spending the next few weeks sorting out our shit like it was our full time job.
All the while, playing this song on repeat…
Slowly but surely, as we studied online courses and refamiliarised ourselves with our past careers, we overhauled our CVs. Attempting to highlight any achievements from the past decade that might possibly be considered transferrable skills, proved especially challenging.
Surely running my own business for so long would show employers how much discipline and initiative I have? This whole endeavour has gotta’ count for something, right?
Narrator: It did not.
As we shopped for corporate outfits, practiced interview answers, and redesigned our LinkedIn profiles, it was all we could do not to pass out from the dizzying shock of it all.
Did I mention I was with my last company for 8 years?
Which meant, together with 10 years of running the biz, it had been 18 years since I’d last applied for a job. 18 years, my friend! A lot (and I mean, a lot) has changed in the recruitment process since 2005.
I’d never had a problem getting a job in the past. When I moved to London, then to Sydney, then back to Perth, it was always the same. Call a local recruitment company; go meet the recruiter; wait for them to book me an interview (usually a few days, max); get the job.
Oh, innocent one. Welcome to the hell of online job hunting in 2023, amidst an economic downturn and cost of living crisis. Online HR systems (otherwise known as Applicant Tracking Systems or ATS) are brutal. Farewell, lovely old days of actually connecting with a recruiter like a human being.
Job searching in a post-pandemic world feels like The Hunger Games.
If you can survive the ATS keyword gatekeepers, the retyping your entire resume into a hundred different company portals, and the constant ghosting from recruiters, then maybe, juuuust maybe, you’re worthy of phone call, or *gasp*, an actual interview.
Man, it was discouraging. But summoning that same fiery determination that had launched our business from nothing, and later sparked my sobriety experiment, I made a decision…
I’d apply for 100 jobs. I’d hurtle myself towards that audacious goal with all my might, all the while wishing and hoping that the Universe had a plan for me, and the net would magically appear.
The next few months were an absolute rollercoaster of emotions, as I applied for roles, called recruiters, and attended interviews.
Some were amazing, and I floated out afterwards like I was walking on air. Others were a total and utter shit show, and I spent the rest of the day in tears, truly believing my life had hit a dead end.
Looking back now, it’s almost amusing that I didn’t realise the hardest part was yet to come. Turns out the cosmic realignment was only just beginning.
❤️
Click here to read Part 3: