Is your career a straight line?
For many savvy professionals, career fulfillment these days looks more like a jungle gym and less like a ladder. Taking lateral jumps to…
For many savvy professionals, career fulfillment these days looks more like a jungle gym and less like a ladder. Taking lateral jumps to gain different or better experience, adding a string or five to your bow on the side, working for yourself, or reaching for a flexible option that allows you to truly thrive, these are all part of the new accepted career wisdom.
But if you are anything more than a millennial age-wise, you may have been schooled in the notion that only the very top of the summit will do. So it can be tough to let go of your ego when it comes to what drives your career decisions, even if the payoff in terms of personal happiness and professional satisfaction is worth it.
This topic has always fascinated me. I grew up in business the hard way, with 11–12 hour days as standard, plus “encouraged” socialising with colleagues at the end of that long day in order to prove you were part of the team. And like most of my contemporaries, I believed that was the only route to career progression. I painted a binary picture for myself of success or failure, where success meant linear advancement to a bigger job title and larger team. And for many years I operated on that premise. Even at the expense of professional relationships, personal connections and my sense of wellbeing.
Until one day, several years ago, I stopped thinking about the linear and started thinking about the truly long-term. On the surface, everything continued as before. I was still working, still hustling in my agency job, still delivering. But that was the veneer. Under the surface was where the cracks and fissures had started to appear. Where I was starting to reflect on what it meant to really enjoy my work. I was starting to grow apathetic and that in turn led to increased stress as I considered the hamster wheel I was on financially, with a well-paid job that didn’t fulfil me anymore. I lost my sense of being me. Which as a classic INFJ, who burns for authenticity, is the worst possible punishment. And it was self-inflicted by my ego and its promise of status and salary, which made it sting even more.
In reaching constantly for the next rung, for the bigger job, for the higher salary, I had lost sight of why I worked in my chosen field, communications, in the first place. Any joy at work I had once had, was snuffed out by the endless conference calls where my only value was seniority and a safe pair of hands for the client who baulked at junior interactions, even though those junior colleagues were delivering kick ass work.
So I made a decision which for me at the time seemed unthinkable. Until it seemed like the only corrective action I could take. I quit. There’s a plethora of good reading out there about knowing when it’s time to fold ’em, but the most important take-away is that you are not failing or quitting. You are choosing to move yourself out of a situation that no longer serves you, so you can move yourself into one that does.
I had planned for it. Years of hard wired professional conditioning ensured I had savings, references and new opportunities lined up. I went head first into the world of communications freelancing and rediscovered my love for what I do. I reconnected with my purpose.
I helped new emerging companies figure out what they had to say. I supported large companies in having real conversations with their employees about important and challenging topics. I stopped being the token senior person on yet another conference call and started delivering work that meant something to me again.
And I had no title, other than my own name. When I sub contracted for agencies, I hot desked wherever there was a free chair. Freed from the internal politics of being part of the management, I just did the work, delivered the right outcomes and then went home. Or went for a drink with my temporary colleagues if it felt good to me at the time. No pressure or presenteeism here.
I look back at this period as a huge professional reawakening and realignment. I rediscovered my strengths, and what energises me, as well as what drains me. I became more interested in the notion of values-based approaches to business and to communications. I sought to champion my specific and unique traits, bringing them to work in order to serve the collective purpose, not hiding them in order to fit into someone else’s pre-ordained order of things.
Of course, you don’t need to be a genius to figure out that in doing so, not only did I rediscover my joy at work, I actually became better at my job. My outcomes for clients improved. I saw tangible business value appear from my direct communications counsel, strategy and campaigns. Which in turn led me to my CV being beefed up in the the most interesting and authentic ways.
And I gained some much needed space and time to figure out what professional opportunities would serve me in the future. Rather than be guided by title and salary, I looked for roles that would help me continue to learn, to grow and where I could start to align my career, and with it, notions of “success”, with my own personal values and north star. It wasn’t always a smooth ride.
My ego continued to nibble at me, encouraging me to look at shiny perks instead of thrilling development opportunities. So I didn’t always get it right. But every step inched me closer.
I now look at my career as a series of decisions that only I can make, (I don’t let anyone else’s notion of “my success” define me), that guide me towards a sense of personal alignment, flow and authenticity. In these conditions, I know I do my best work and am the best leader and coach/mentor for others. The decisions I make may surprise some people, but they bring me closer to “me”and to the value I can uniquely bring in my chosen field.
My career may not always be a ladder stretching into the sky, but I swing happily among the branches and I enjoy the leadership journey I am on, picking up learning, development and new skills along the way that I can share with others. There is a fixed point, but it isn’t the summit of ego and job titles. It is my own personal North Star navigation system, shining brightly whenever I feel most aligned and blinking fiercely when I am off course.