If you told me at 21 that a decade later I’d become a LinkedIn Top Voice in Career and a top-rated career coach, I would have scoffed.
Me?
The girl who had no clue what she wanted to do, only that she wanted to make big girl money so she could retire her hard-working immigrant parents.
Me?
The student in her fourth year of college who had already changed her major four times. Most recently to pre-med because it sounded impressive.
Only to realize I hadn’t taken a single science or math class. And then, in a mild panic, switching to pre-law because it felt like the fastest, most respectable option left.
Me?
The woman in her twenties who changed jobs as often as she changed relationships. Taking whatever role landed in my lap, knowing within hours it wasn’t the right fit, but staying a full 365 days anyway.
Not out of loyalty. Out of FEAR.
Fear of being labeled a “job hopper.” Fear of looking flaky. Fear of being labeled “indecisive.”
I genuinely thought something was wrong with me. It seemed like all my peers had it figured out.
They declared their futures with such conviction.
“I’m going to be a lawyer and take over my dad’s practice.”
“I’m going to be a journalist and document the injustices of this planet.”
“I’m going to get my master’s in accounting, work for a Big 4, and travel.”
How could they be so sure?
Was I the only one who lacked a vision? A focus? A clear answer to what I wanted to do for the rest of my life?
And once I ruled out law school because I somehow managed to score lower every single time I took the LSAT… what the hell was I supposed to do with a liberal arts degree?
Most of all, how did everyone else seem to know except me?
What I’ve learned since then, after coaching countless millennial women, including some of those former peers, is this:
Very few of us actually had it figured out.
Most people picked a major or career because it sounded impressive, looked respectable, paid well, or because someone around them had already charted that path and it felt safer to follow.
These days, I get emails from women in their 30s, 40s, and 50s that all sound eerily similar:
“Help. I woke up one day and realized I’m miserable. Is it too late to switch? And if not… what else could I even do?”
If that question feels familiar, you’re not alone. And I’m really glad you found me in this corner of the internet.
But first, I want to rewind.
What I couldn’t see at the time
Not knowing what you want to do isn’t a problem. Most of the time, it’s simply a lack of lived information.
In high school and college, we’re rewarded for following instructions. Pass the class. Hit the milestone. Check the box. Academia gives you a clear roadmap with grades, deadlines, and a syllabus.
The real world does NOT.
You graduate and suddenly you’re expected to pick a path you’ll somehow be happy with for the next few decades. No manual. No trial run. No permission to change your mind.
What I didn’t realize in my twenties is that it’s actually very normal if that decade is about exploration. You’re supposed to try different roles, different environments, and different bosses.
You’re gathering data about what drains you, what energizes you, and what you’re willing to tolerate.
It only feels chaotic while you’re living it.
So here’s what my path actually looked like
1. In college, I became an essay and resume tutor.
2. After graduating into the 2009 recession, I took a cold-call sales job that hired anyone with a social security number and a willingness to show up. Totally misaligned – hated that job.
3. I stumbled into an executive assistant role at a staffing firm where I was actually trying to land an entry-level paralegal job. That company moved me into client management, then recruiting, then recruiting management.
4. Then I got a terrible, toxic boss and proclaimed, out of pure defiance, “I will never EVER have a boss again.”
5. Which somehow led me to resigning and signing up for a random $497 “how to start a travel blog” course.
6. I quit my six-figure job and backpacked around Europe to start a travel blog… only to realize two months in: Love travel. Hate writing about it. At the time, it felt like another misstep. Another example of me not sticking to one thing.
This is where things started to make sense
Looking back now, it’s obvious that every role was shaping me without my knowing.
- Tutoring showed me how much I loved writing and mentoring.
- Sales gave me thick skin and taught me how to sell ideas.
- Being an executive assistant let me observe how strategic leaders actually think.
- Client management taught me how to build trust and retain relationships.
- Recruiting gave me an inside look at hiring and job searching.
- And the travel blog taught me digital marketing and content creation.
The real turning point came when I noticed I dreaded writing about travel because I just wanted to be there. I didn’t want to plan the perfect photo or optimize for golden hour.
I wanted to admire the Eiffel Tower without thinking about content.
What DID come naturally was writing career advice. And honestly, I loved it. Even writing this article right now puts me in that zone where I lose track of time and forget to check my phone.
So I started traveling during the day, then settled into coffee shops to write career advice every night.
That’s when things clicked.
A company called The Muse DM’d me and asked, “Hey, do you want to be a career coach?”
Sure. What the hell is that? Sounds great. Sign me up.
Over the next couple of years, I helped professionals revamp their resumes and prepare for interviews.
And I couldn’t help but notice a pattern: so many people felt unqualified for the roles they wanted, even when their backgrounds were objectively impressive.
More impressive than mine, frankly.
That curiosity pulled me deeper. Into personal development. Into understanding how the subconscious mind works. Into performance coaching, inner child healing, somatics, and nervous system regulation.
Looking back, my nonlinear path wasn’t random at all. Heck, even my first job tutoring and editing resumes and essays was relevant to my current job. All the detours were preparing me for exactly where I am in my career today.
What I wish someone had told me
If I had to distill this into a few truths I’d share with my younger self, or anyone who feels lost right now, it would be these:
LESSON #1: FEELING UNCERTAIN IS NORMAL.
Not knowing what you want to do for the rest of your life isn’t a problem. Careers move in seasons. There are stretches of steadiness, and stretches of reinvention. During reinvention, uncertainty is part of the deal. It’s usually an invitation to slow down and listen instead of forcing the next move.
LESSON #2: CLARITY RARELY ARRIVES FULLY FORMED.
Some people have a loud calling or clear life purpose. Most don’t. For many of us, clarity shows up as a nudge. A curiosity you keep circling back to. An idea that feels like relief or excitement. Following a nudge doesn’t mean blowing up your life. Sometimes it’s a conversation, a class, or a small experiment. Those micro-actions are what eventually add up to a clear direction.
LESSON #3: IT’S NEVER TOO LATE TO COURSE-CORRECT.
I talk to people in their twenties who wish they had more experience before making a change. I talk to people in their forties and fifties who wish they had less to walk away from. The common thread isn’t age. It’s how long someone stays in something that no longer fits.
I’ve seen this firsthand. A client who moved from political journalism to entertainment news editing at 38. A stay-at-home mom who became a nurse at 45. Someone who started a business from scratch at 52. None of them were “behind.” They learned how to follow their nudge and use their past experience and knowledge as an advantage.
If you’re feeling stuck, start here
If you’re sitting with your own questions, here are a few worth asking yourself:
Where have you been judging yourself for not being linear or having it all figured out?
What if your detours are making you more valuable, not less?
If you stripped away titles and expectations, what feels like an important way to spend your time?
Sometimes the path only makes sense once you stop rushing to define it.
