My Career Has Been Anything but Linear: Here’s Why That’s a Good Thing

When I graduated from college with a journalism degree and no idea how to make it in the real world, I felt like I was up against some pretty big odds. I wanted to make a career out of writing, and even with 2 internships under my belt while in college, I felt like I was already behind when I started applying to jobs. Everywhere needed at least a few years of experience in the field in order to even be considered, and for some reason, internships didn’t seem to count for much on job applications.

So, I started from scratch, like most people do when they get hit with the cold hard reality of real, post-undergrad life. I was very fortunate to be able to take some unpaid internships just to get even more experience on my resume, and a few very low-paying gigs. I wouldn’t have been able to pay rent in Seattle if it wasn’t for my family and for that I am forever grateful. They let me figure it out, step by step, and I was so lucky to have them as a cushion.

Most of my family had very linear careers, with almost everyone in teaching, and so I felt like a fish out of water trying to navigate this different career path. I had a degree that I didn’t necessarily know what to do with— I felt like going straight into journalism and trying to make it in Seattle was going to be difficult, and so I didn’t even chance it. It felt like it was going to be a little too cutthroat for me, and I didn’t know if I could swing it after only doing short stints of journalism in college.

So, I started my career in PR, thinking, I’m good with people, I can write, maybe I can do this. And, well, it didn’t really work out for me. It was a combination of a lot of things that made it difficult— I was just few months out of college and really misssing my friends, and I was living back at home for the first time since I graduated high school. That plus bussing to and from downtown to North Seattle every day, in the dark both ways, really took a toll on me. It was the first time I really felt like, wow, if this is what life in the ‘real world’ is, I don’t think I’m cut out for it. If I’m being honest it was the first kick in the pants that taught me to trust my gut when something doesn’t feel right— and PR was not it. For a number of reasons the company wasn’t a fit, I was left feeling really bad at everything I did, and ended up crying in the bathroom most days at work. It’s a time in my life when I coined a phrase ‘living yogurt to yogurt’ — really because it felt like my 11am break to eat my yogurt was the only thing that got me through the day. Bleak, I know, but I really learned a valuable lesson, that if something is feeling that wrong for you, you might need to reevaluate.

After I ended my short stint in PR, I was very lucky to crack my way into the magazine and publishing world in Seattle with some short internships. Though it was most definitely not going to be a long-term thing— staff positions in publishing were almost impossible to come by— I felt lucky to be invited into that world for a short while. It was pretty incredible, I got to write and pitch my own stuff, gained some experience editing, fact-checking, and interviewing sources, and most importantly got some bylines out of it. I was really fortunate to be able to do something creative with my degree, even if it was only in month-long stints at a time. I met some great people and really felt like I was doing what I was meant to do. But as all things do, these internships had to come to an end, and I found myself out job searching yet again.

As luck would have it, I applied to a writing gig on LinkedIn, literally one of those one-click apply applications and I actually got a callback. A few interviews later, and I was in with a contracting agency that worked with tech companies in Seattle— I couldn’t believe it, it felt like the luckiest thing in the world. And it kind of was, I really didn’t expect anything to come from a one-click application. But a series of many interviews later, I found myself at the gates of the tech industry in Seattle. It was for a gig that advertised itself as writing, but would turn out to be more of the data-entry / fact-checking variety, but I could have cared less. I couldn’t believe I even got the tiniest foot in the door.

Working in tech was everything like I thought it would be and also completely unexpected. I remember my first day, going up the huge sets of elevators to the 12th floor lobby and feeling like wow, this is a whole new ballgame. I felt so overwhelmed with gratitude that I got to be a part of something so big. I had never worked for a company so large that we had to do a week of HR training with all the other new hires from across the company. We lined up to get our badge pictures and I had never felt more professional— I knew my college mentors would be proud. And even though I was a contractor, I didn’t feel excluded from the big company things (that would come later) but in those first few months, it was a corporate whirlwind blur that swept me away. I remember the first town hall with the entire company, sitting with my department in one of the big conference rooms together. We came into a spread of breakfast food and coffee, and watched some very professional powerpoints with lots of projections and industry jargon. I had never felt more like I had made it.

Of course, during my time as a contractor, the dreaminess faded a bit. I think being on a contract and being constantly reminded ‘we did NOT work for the company’ (we worked for our contracting agency) and making a pretty modest hourly wage really contributed to the feeling of being on the outside looking in. I also felt at times like I could have made more money in a less prestigious role, a desk job not in tech, for instance. And I honestly might have been able to. But I told myself I was going to stick it out, because it really felt like my shot. I watched 4 or 5 people that started with me eventually quit, and I just held on with a vice grip, hoping that one day this contract role might become a fulltime one with the company. And after 3 years, it finally paid off. I was made a full-time employee after years of feeling on the outside looking in. It was the first time I had job security in my life, and let me tell you, it was an unmatched feeling. If I felt like I had made it before, I was wrong— this was it.

This is when my career in tech felt like it truly started. Being on the inside was different. I had access to things I never had before, like the internal list of jobs that I could apply for and get connected with hiring managers directly. I could look into roles and do informational interviews with folks inside the company before even applying. It felt like I had struck gold with this resource— not to mention finally becoming salaried and getting benefits through the company. It was a whole new world for me.

But not long after I got hired on full time, I realized that yet again, I was a little under-qualified for some of the internal jobs at the company that I was applying for. It felt like once again, stepping out from this mostly data-entry role was further out of reach than I thought. So I made a big leap— I decided to go back to school.

During my time working in publishing, I had gotten some good information that many people often went back to school to earn a certificate, through an online or in-person course to help bolster their resume. The program recommended to me was an Editing Certificate Program at the University of Washington. As a shorter program, it also catered to people working full-time, so the classes were all at night. So I made the jump, even without that much in savings, I paid for each quarter on my credit card and went to night school while working full-time during the day. It was a full year of school— with tons of extra reading, writing, and copyediting assignments, many textbooks, and even more commuting. But I really felt like if I didn’t have something else on my reusme to set me apart, I might never be able to move anywhere else within the company— or outside of it.

And my gamble paid off— shorlty after getting my certificate, a job opened up on a team within my department— and this time, it really was a writing role. I applied with the blessing of my current boss, as it was standard practice to get a recommendation from someone in the company to apply to other internal roles, and I got it. I was floored, I couldn’t believe my luck— and the cherry on top? I was told my editing certificate pushed me ahead of other candidates— a year well spent.

This new role was all-consuming. They told me it would take me up to a year to feel up to speed and comfortable in the role, as it was highly technical, and man were they right. I was pushing myself with this role because not only was it a lot of copywriting, it was also a little bit of coding. We were doing data-based writing, putting our data sources into the text to be able to refresh the content as new data became available. It was the most technical role I had ever been in, and I also was part of a team that felt like a family for the first time ever.

My years in this role were intense and full of a lot of ups and downs. I had the best boss I had ever had, and I still thank him to this day for all he did for me— he was kind but assertive when he knew I could do better. He was always willing to lend an ear when there was a frustrating dynamic in the office or if I was struggling with something technically. He was such a support, I credit him with making me a better worker, and a more intentional person, able to make lasting work relationships and build on them over the years. He was so well-loved in the company and I have always admired him for it. I think he made me a better person, too.

Those years in this new role, the only thing on my mind was work and the only thing I wanted to talk about was work. The team was very intertwined, we worked late together, went to happy hour together, had lunches and coffees and team bonding outings most quarters. And most of all, we struggled with complex technical things together— it was kind of a mind-bending technology to work with, and struggling through that together was a very bonding experience. It was a very intense work environment but I’ve never felt more a part of anything in my life. It was my work and my community.

And if I’m being honest, sometimes I do get nostalgic for that time. Where I really was all-in on work, and it consumed my life in a way that felt like it gave me meaning and purpose. But if I’m being honest, I don’t think that was a healthy version of myself, the person that idealized the grind and being all-consumed by my career. But really, in my mid-twenties, it seemed pretty normal to be lost in your career. Most of my friends were entrenched in work too—we all navigated different types workplace dynamics and figured out how to make it work and lift each other up at the same time. But I was definitely a little lost in other areas of my life, and focusing on work was a way of giving myself some structure and a way to channel my attention in one place, rather than find meaning elsewhere in my life. And I don’t regret it, I think that it was a formative and necessary time of my life, and I met some of my closest friends from it (maybe a little of corporate trauma-bonding, if I’m being honest) but I am so thankful for the time we spent working together.

Flash forward to 2021 and I had moved from more strictly creative roles to more project management. This meant lots of meetings, even more emails, and needing to be reachable all. the. time. At this point, I had moved on to another company— a gamble I still wonder about being the right move. The company billed itself as kind of a tech company with a ‘startup-like culture.’ And man, I have never worked at a startup, but this place was fast-paced and I quickly learned the culture was not for me. In less than 3 months, I found myself burnt out, exhausted, and kind of a nervous wreck. This place seemed to be a great fit for a lot of people, it certainly had merits and a lot of very smart people who I looked up to. But I just know that it wasn’t for me— and after many years in tech by this point, and knowing myself well enough, I didn’t hesitate. I resigned.

If I’m being honest, I think I had gotten pretty lucky at my first stint in tech— I worked with really kind people and never was pushed around all that much. I had gained 7 years of tenure at the company and I felt like I generally was respected and had made good working relationships. This new role was a lot of things, and maybe in another life would have been exactly what I needed. But at the time, the stress of it all was too much, and so I trusted my gut and left. It was a terrifying move, I hadn’t been jobless at that point in my life since I was 16 years old. I had been working consistently since then. So this felt like the most gigantic leap of faith. But sometimes, leaping is the only option you have.

I luckily still had a relationship with a contracting agency and was able to get a couple of solid gigs going for a few months so I didn’t have much of a gap in pay. This was a huge blessing in disguise, because it also led me to build relationships with some great companies and some great people that would benefit me in the near future. That’s also when I decided to start my own LLC for my freelance services. It was terrifying, let me tell you— starting my own business with no guidance felt like bowling without guardrails. The first thing I did was hire an accountant for fear of not knowing how to do my own taxes, and the rest I muddled through on my own, with the support of my husband cheering me on from the sidelines.

As an independent contractor, I knew that I’d have to use my existing network to get more clients and fortunately, working in tech paid off again. Some old colleagues of mine needed someone with my skillset and I was lucky to be able to work remotely from Seattle even though they were located in Australia. Some of the kindest people I’ve ever met, they took a chance on me as their first US-based employee. And their generosity didn’t sop there— they flew my almost-husband and I out to Brisbane for a few weeks to get acquainted with everyone and spend some time at their amazing office. It was a gig that would have been perfect for me forseeably forever, but the one thing that I didn’t see coming was that I eventually would want to work in an office again. When we were there in 2022, the pandemic was still having more regular flare-ups and it seemed like the world would never go back to the way of offices and full-time work again. And if I had lived in Brisbane and could have gone in to their beautiful dog-friendly office with all those amazing people everyday, I would have done it in a heartbeat.

But, in 2023, I found myself craving more time with people— being home alone once my husband started working 80 hours a week became really difficult. It started to take a toll on my mental health and unfortunately I found myself needing to part ways with the Australian company to find something in-person again, or at least a hybrid role. This was one of the hardest transitions I’ve had to make, because I found myself being faced with having to leave a role that I really thought I’d be in for 5-10 years at least. But I didn’t have much of a choice, my mental health was taking a hit from being alone so much, and I needed a change. So I took another gamble, and left. It was one of the hardest choices I’ve had in my career, but I think it was the right one. Through the years of working in many different environments, I have learned that when it comes down to it, you have to trust yourself.

And, if I’ve truly learned anything over the years, it’s that the relationships you make along the way that can really help you stay afloat. It’s the only thing I know to be true over the course of my young career: relationship-building is all you really have. And so, luckily for me, some of the relationships I had formed as a freelancer paid off. I had made some working relationships with a small company out of Seattle, and I knew they had an office here. So I reached out, knowing that in this difficult job market, I had to figure out where to go next. And thankfully, they took a chance on me.

So here I am, working hybrid for a small Seattle marketing / creative agency (a little more from home at the moment as I’m raising a puppy) and I feel so fortunate to be here. I am lucky to have built relationships that have lasted and that people were willing to give me a shot. I write in my spare time to keep my content skills fresh, and I feel so lucky to be able to do so.

It’s been a wild ride, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.