I’ve written and rewritten this piece probably six times. It was supposed to be a moment of triumph — all of the pain from trying to establish myself, the different jobs, different states, the long hours pursuing a doctoral degree. I was supposed to be having a victory lap, high-fiving the crowd and doing everything I said I would be doing.

It didn’t turn out that way — at least not right away.

I did a podcast in October 2024 outlining some of this, so I won’t rehash it all. But a change in plans means full commitment to the new process, an acceptance of the reality, and some delusional confidence that you’ve got this.

In 2017, I had just moved to the East Coast. I was the head coach of a high school volleyball team, and we were in the middle of a pretty intense match. When I took over that team, I knew it was going to be a rebuild. I had the time, and there were ways I wanted to develop the team that would hopefully create something sustainable and lasting.

In that game I mentioned, I had a young player, a sophomore we were trying to scale up to the varsity level. The plan was to do it gradually, not toss her into the middle of a match early in the season. Until it was.

I remember walking over, sitting next to her on the bench, and saying, “We may need you to go in.” There was a look of absolute horror in her eyes because the plan had changed. And when I saw that look, before she could say anything, I said, “Look, we don’t have time for that. It’s time to go. You in or you out?”

She was in. She was more than up to the moment and became one of our best players. That memory reminded me that sometimes, it’s just time to go and you need to make something happen.

If you’ve ever played competitive sports, you know how much work goes into being good — as a team and as an individual. Games are the reward for a week of practice. The expectation is to win. So, when you don’t, it hurts. It’s like resetting to zero and starting the process all over again.

The good news is that season’s end. Even if you’re losing every game, there’s a date on the calendar when the suffering ends.

But a job search? That’s the losing season with no end in sight. Application after application. Screen after screen. Weeks-long processes just to hear “no thanks” — usually not even from a real person.

Cruel is the word that comes to mind. Not long ago, finding work meant walking into a place with an opening. Sure, you had to fill out an online application, but I remember being able to contact people directly. I remember Facebook having a jobs section. I remember asking how to gain experience and managers making it happen. I’m 31. I’m not giving a “back in my day” lecture — this was only 2020.

For all the talk of being short-staffed, it’s started to feel like just another excuse to ignore the underlying problem. I have had a lot of affirmations the last few years. In 2021, I “retired” from coaching after nearly a decade. I wanted something new and knew that with a doctoral degree in the works, I needed to shape my career differently. I accomplished that, but it was because I was doing everything I knew would help get me there, even if in the moment, it didn’t feel like that was the case.

People Need People

The people in your circle matter. The first thing I did was link up with a career counselor offered by my alma mater. Years later, he’s become someone vital to my professional and personal growth. I don’t go into situations hoping to make friends — I go into them hoping for a human experience. Authenticity can be a double-edged sword because most people aren’t comfortable being their true selves all the time.

I don’t view this person as an advisor anymore — he’s a friend. Because when someone willingly walks part of your journey with you, that’s the essence of the human experience. As lonely as the job hunt can be, I never felt alone. That kept me afloat.

Generational Disconnect

Not everyone understands the current job market. I’ll have a longer conversation about that later. But trends show increased mobility among millennials and Gen Z. Talk to Gen X or a boomer and the idea of changing jobs every few years doesn’t compute. That disconnect contributes to the struggle.

I spent most of the last four years lying to my family, in-laws, and acquaintances. My mom, wife, and a few friends knew the truth because I trusted they wouldn’t make my life harder than it already was.

Part of me blames outdated mindsets. Part of me thinks they’re selfish or oblivious. I’ve been around diverse people. No one chooses instability. People want to work. Assuming those without work are flawed is damaging, because work contributions are not a way to determine someone’s value.

A Title is a Designation, not a Definition

You are more than your title. That took me time to understand — and I still haven’t fully mastered it. America is so work-centric that even at a 7pm social event, someone asks, “What do you do for work?”

I’ve made a point to shift my mindset. I talk about anything but work outside of work. Even in interviews, when asked, “Tell me about yourself,” I steer away from my resume and give them a glimpse of who I actually am.

Relating to people goes back to the human experience. Remember how easy it was to make friends as a kid? Someone had a Power Rangers Band-Aid and suddenly you were besties. That might not come back as an adult, but we can detach people from titles and make things easier.

There’s pride in being a VP. But whether you’re a VP, flipping burgers, cleaning windows, or answering phones, there’s a person in that role who is more than their job. It takes intentionality to think this way, but it has been a catalyst for my mental health to separate the two beyond just not bringing work home.

Hiring is Broken, Probably Beyond Repair

Companies don’t get it. Whether it’s high turnover, low-quality applicants, or hiring delays, they often treat people negligently. Somewhere we lost the plot. Gone are the days of growing into roles. Now it’s about instant production. I’ve been tossed into overwhelming roles with no support more than once.

I can share those stories because I survived. But is that how we want people to experience work? That existential dread? That white-knuckle grind just to make it through a day with no support? Mental health has cratered, pay hasn’t adjusted with living costs and people skills are eroding by the generation.

I did a dissertation on hiring practices. I won’t bore you. But companies forget there are people applying for jobs. Most applications vanish into black holes, screened out by algorithms or entry-level recruiters who don’t know how to evaluate talent.

The amount of work it takes to get an interview let alone a job is Cruel. That’s still the word. Every application carries hope. Emotional capital. Hours filling out information already on your resume. Then you wait — only to get a robotic rejection, and have to start the process all over again, hoping that the next day is going to be that day.

Be Human, Make A Routine

People apply because they believe they can do the job. And most of the time, they can — if given the opportunity. But the hunt for perfect candidates and perfect jobs? A waste. Neither exists. Like any relationship, it requires compromise.

Routine matters. I’m disciplined. I thrive on structure. I did all my grad school online — you have to be efficient. I know how I like to start and end my day. What happens in between? Unpredictable. And that’s fine. It’s the little things that help you survive the chaos.

During a job search, this matters even more. It’s easy to spiral. Suddenly it’s noon, you haven’t eaten, haven’t showered, and feel like the day’s a waste.

Treat the job search like a job. Wake up on time. Eat. Move. Shower. Put on real clothes. Humanize the day. Give yourself a chance to win it.

Treat yourself. Even if money’s tight, get creative. For me, Tuesday night is spa night. Wine. Bath. Face masks. Whatever I’ve got in the bin. It matters. You matter. You deserve something to look forward to.

If you’re unemployed, you likely have free time. Fill it. Don’t sit idle. That’s draining. It doesn’t have to be paid. Volunteer. Work part-time. Do projects. Create. Stay sharp.

You protect your sanity. You shrink the work gap. And who knows — you might meet someone who leads you to your next role. Control your narrative.

Your Feelings Are Real and Your Value is High

Be sad. Be frustrated. Just don’t let it consume you. You will hear “no” a lot. But it only takes one “yes.” Feel it all. Process it. Then keep going.

The job hunt feels personal. But it’s not. It can spiral fast. Protect your peace. Hold tight to the things that bring you joy. Let the rest go. It’s hard. But worth it.

You’re pretty freaking awesome. Truly. Deep down, I always knew that about myself. People in my circle reinforced it. But recently, it took someone who didn’t know me to say it for it to have the impact it needed. My career so far? Impressive. If someone can’t see that, that’s on them. Not me. My value is what I decide it is. So is yours.

If someone needs you to justify yourself instead of simply listening, they don’t deserve your energy. That goes for work — and life.

What You Want Still Matters

What you envision for yourself matters. I hate when people ask about goals like they need to be set for life. Five years ago, I was going to keep coaching. Ten years ago, I thought I’d be on ESPN. Ask me now? I’ll probably have a different answer in 2030.

The constant is this: I value autonomy and sanity. I don’t value work. I value what work enables. I’ve done the 70-hour weeks. Missed events. Felt trapped. I’m done with that. I won’t put myself in environments where that’s the expectation.

I’m privileged. I have a successful track record. A doctoral degree. And yes, because I’m 31 and live in America, I’ll probably work another 35 years. But at least I have a long road left to enjoy the things I want. Have a family. Find joy. Make some money in the process.

Nothing is forever — unless you let it be. Whether it’s your current job, your career path, or anything else. We create these long-term roadmaps that become impossible burdens. Forever is a long time.

You can quit anything. And sometimes, you should. Nothing is permanent. Maybe it’s time to do your own thing — and make sure forever never even crosses your mind. If you’re in this position, I won’t lie: it won’t be easy. If it’s your first time job hunting in a while, a lot has changed. If you’ve been at it a while, I know it feels endless. But it won’t be. Someone will say yes — or you will.

I don’t wish this process on anyone. I don’t envy those in it. I know the pain. But on the other side, you get to take the lessons and build your joy.

My mom always says: if 10 people threw their problems into the middle of a room, most would take theirs back. She’s right. I wouldn’t trade my experience. The pain. The struggle. The growth. All of it is part of my story, and that story is not even halfway written.

I’m not going to say good luck. I’ll say this: your day is coming, and it will feel incredible when it does.

I’m not where I thought I’d be, if anything I’m 10 years ahead. But because of that I’ve stopped trying to force the fit and took the control back where it belongs. I’ve known for a while that this was the likely outcome. There’s no more waiting and it’s time to go. I’m all in.

Subsequent Podcast to this Article