At the end of 2023, after over two decades in the HR business, the curtain fell. I took my final bow and bid farewell to the profession.
Embracing a new chapter, I officially became a mid-career worker pivoting to a dream job - a concept I had read about but always associated with someone else, living somewhere else. I never imagined I would pivot, too.
Pivot. What a word. It brings to mind dusty pink ballet shoes in satin, with thick criss-cross ribbons. I’m also keen on the definition; a fixed point supporting something which turns or balances, or a person or thing on which something else depends - as this neatly sums up how each day feels for me right now.
That’s me there, positioned at the barre. Clutching the levelled handrail as if my life depended on it. Surrounded by mirrors (ugh), leaving me no choice but to take a good, hard look at myself. I breathe, then jeté into the unknown, twirling and pivoting, trying to stay balanced on a fixed point. I make progress, I think I’m pivoting and then, CRASH, I’m sprawled on the floor in an ungainly heap. Ow.
Undeterred, I get up. I breathe. My ballet arms unfurl. I start again. Jeté, twirl and pivot.
When I made a career change, it was for my mental health and wellbeing. I wanted to be a happier, less stressed, less work-y person not just for my husband, son and family but for me. It paved the way to pursue my dream career in writing and podcasting, which had waited patiently in the wings for seven years but was now giving strong main character energy.
To describe the past few weeks as rocky would be an understatement. My thoughts skid from (a) it’s the best decision I’ve ever made! to (b) what a bold move steeped in reckless abandon and what was I thinking?!.
I’ve attempted to articulate these eventful, terrifying, exciting, soul-searching moments so here goes…
Mid-life crisis or epiphany?
When I took the plunge and resigned from my last HR role (bombing into choppy freelance waters with my knees tucked just as we were told not to in mid-80s public swimming baths), I wasn’t sure if it was a mid-life crisis or an epiphany. After all, this decision was months in the making; marked by tears, heartfelt discussions with loved ones, voice notes with friends, notepad scribbles and career coaching sessions before I eventually slammed the door on my ‘main job’ and let my CIPD membership lapse.
Up first, the mid-life crisis. In Episode 6 of her Radio 4 podcast, Uncharted, mathematician Hannah Fry explores the impact of age on happiness. It’s suggested our peak happiness occurs in our 20s, descends to a nadir in our late 40s and then gradually ascends into our 70s and that the mid-life crisis is not only a real phenomenon but, crucially, matters.
At mid-life, it dawns on us that we’re not the CEO / award-winning actress / hotshot lawyer we aspired to be in our youth - and that’s psychologically painful. Following the traditional HR career trajectory, I should have been far more ambitious; not shying away from promotion to Head of HR and climbing the slippery rungs of the career ladder to reach the apex…HR DIRECTOR. I would have joined many of my colleagues and friends who deserve to be there.
Now, the epiphany. *Whispers* I never wanted to be an HR Director. After a couple of soul-crushing experiences at work that shattered my confidence, I found myself increasingly unhappy and dissatisfied. I needed to reassess my life, and I had reached my ‘get me out of here’ moment.
I knew, without a doubt, that I wanted to write more. Beyond the fleeting 1.5 days a week that I currently had, or late at night when the house was silent, and the boys were asleep (and when I deeply regretted listening to Uncanny, S1 Case 13). So, I had to do something about it.
Career, I’m breaking up with you
I recently learned about ‘career-related grief’ and the idea that you can mourn during career transitions. Whilst I can relate to this notion, for me, it’s more akin to a breakup. Like leaving someone you stayed with for far too long because it was familiar, even though deep down you knew they weren’t the right fit. I've been remembering the many, many good times in HR with watery eyes while also trying to banish the anxiety-inducing moments from memory. I’ve cleaned and decluttered (goodbye, old People Management magazines) and I’m getting back out there again (oh, hey LinkedIn!).
Going through a breakup and navigating the emotional aftermath can take a toll on the old body, too. Since I left the HR profession, I’ve had Covid, nagging headaches, colds, bouts of sickness and even toothaches. I’ve slept more than I usually do. I’ve clumsily broken my spare pair of glasses, and my habit of misplacing things has reached new, annoying heights.
Something is going on beneath the surface, I'm sure. Shock. Self-Doubt. Relief. A lot of wobbling. So, I’m trying to take it slow. Eat well. Get a bit more rest and, overall, look after myself a bit better.
’Tis the Season… for rejection
Before Christmas, I applied for seasonal work to supplement my income and stay busy and sociable. Applying to some of the UK’s biggest retailers as a Christmas temp was *interesting*, reminiscent of my Saturday job student days. Whether navigating tricky job portals, penning an essay on why an 8-week role was a dream job or receiving rejection emails that ranged from the blunt (‘We’ve decided to move forward with another candidate’) to the perplexing (‘Regrettably, your application has been unsuccessful as the position has already been filled.’) to the crushing (‘The quality of applications to our website is of an exceptional standard. Your application has been unsuccessful’), it was, um, memorable.
Thankfully, it wasn’t all bad. I was offered a dream seasonal role with my favourite bookseller but, unfortunately, the location didn't work logistically. When exiting the staff quarters after my interview, I bumped slap-bang into the lovely Dame Kelly Holmes who was visiting the store to sign books, so all was not lost. A queue of fans, snaking up the stairs and clutching autograph books, looked at me expectantly perhaps thinking I was Dame Kelly’s PA who could help them jump the queue. They then looked disappointed when I had one last look at the book tables before legging it out of the door.
One of London’s largest toy stores was recruiting for a Christmas Elf and, in a moment of seasonal joy/desperation, I nearly went for it. However, despite being charmed by the role’s key responsibilities (‘setting up and breaking down the Grotto daily and creating an element of theatre’) I wasn’t convinced I fully met the Person Profile (‘excellent performance skills and must be comfortable in costume.’) so it was back to the drawing board.
Kakorrhaphiophobia, Self-Doubt and Feeling the Pinch
One of the most challenging and uncomfortable parts of the last few weeks has been grappling with self-doubt, diminished confidence and loss of identity. The fear of failure is real. We bundle so much identity and self-worth into our careers and our work. Stepping away from HR, and shedding the protective bubble wrap (inevitably popping some off it), I feel exposed. Where on earth has my identity gone, and what is my purpose? Emotions have been a rollercoaster ride; fear, guilt, panic, anger and resentment swiftly followed by bursts of excitement, giddy relief and frenzied motivation. Punctuated by isolation and loneliness. It’s quite the ride (and I’m terrified of rollercoasters).
Limiting social media has proven helpful. While I genuinely support the successes of colleagues and friends, a constant stream of posts about best-selling releases, transparent earnings disclosures, or another well-deserved promotion can be disheartening, no matter how big your heart is. Especially when your biggest achievement has been dragging yourself to your desk, warming up some soup in the meecro-wah-vay and sorting the laundry into lights and darks. That counts for something, right?
Now, taking a deep breath, money. Let’s not beat about the bush here. After enjoying financial security in well-paid HR roles, the abrupt whipping away of that warm security blanket has left things not just chilly but arctic. Revenue streams are more of a trickle as I get myself back on track and, without a doubt, the financial instability has been the steepest hill to climb. Sacrifices have been made, purse strings tightened to near-snapping and I’m grateful for the support and patience of loved ones (and the Walthamstow Sell n Swap Facebook group.) I am working extra, extra hard but, honestly, it keeps me up at night.
Celebrating the Wins
Despite the challenges, there's been lots to celebrate on this newfound journey. I’ve been told it’s crucial to note the highs as well as the dips and to appreciate the small victories. Since my pivot, I’ve…
Started working with a new client which is keeping me busy with some really interesting work.
Cultivated potential opportunities with upcoming meetings that, fingers crossed, hold promise.
Reconnected with existing clients that has allowed me to take on more work beyond the constraints of my former part-time freelancer and part-time HR’er week.
Resumed the recording of my music podcast and wrote for up-and-coming new bands like Akrobat who are way, way cooler than me and produce excellent music.
Increased my contributions to RockShot Magazine, relishing gigs alone with only a pint and a notebook for company.
Joined supportive freelance writer groups and job boards, gaining valuable advice and tips and the chance to throw my hat in the ring for exciting writing projects.
Attended brilliant daytime events like No More Lost Books, where I connected with other writers and met the remarkable Torin Douglas MBE, and enjoyed a Monday afternoon album-listening party in Soho for the uber-talented Collette Cooper, before hopping back on the Victoria Line for the school run.
Made time for coffee with friends, and shared lunch in town with my cherished Mum, during my lunch breaks.
Ramped up my running schedule and treated myself to a lunchtime forest walk or two.
All of this would have been unimaginable in my former work life when my days were gobbled up from morning to night, and I had little room to breathe.
One of my biggest wins though, is that I’m laughing more and crying less. My shoulders have gradually lowered from their once favourite hangout, near my ears. My hair has stopped falling out, which it started to do in the summer last year.
While I’m not releasing bestsellers, embarking on fancy wellness retreats or wearing new clothes, and each day presents its unique challenges, I’m happier and, crucially, I’m WRITING.
When I don’t write, it feels like the words are trapped inside me, fluttering like a caged bird. Writing is the release that opens the door, allowing the words to soar freely.
I recently read Aoibhin Garrihy’s poetry anthology Every Night is Full of Stars (a soothing balm for the soul) which features Donna Ashworth’s poem, ‘Unstoppable’. My favourite passage is:
Unstoppable they said
but I think
it was in the stopping
that she found
her power.
It was in the stopping.
This is not the end
So there you have it. Unfortunately, there’s no denouement to this career pivot story. Consider this an ongoing narrative with countless twists and turns and new characters yet to be introduced. I hope you’ll stay by my side as I hold on, white-knuckled, for the ride in search of my work Elysium.
During a recent RockShot magazine gig, a girl approached me shyly. “Are you a music writer?“ she asked. I paused. In my former work life, I would have hesitated. I would have been preoccupied and tired - half of me at the gig, the other fretting about an early start the next day, consumed by thoughts of a tricky case at work, wondering when I’d squeeze in time for my gig write-up.
This time, however, I smiled and replied cheerily “Yes, I am a music writer!” and we chatted.
It felt good, really good. I allowed myself to think that maybe it would all be OK… and if it isn’t there’s always that Christmas Elf job to consider for next year (or a ballet dancer).
Lovely piece
I love reading your work Nicola! I really needed your positive energy and style today, after an insane few weeks of Australian natural disasters.
Much love xxxxx
Ps if you ever decide to do a Patreon, I’m in 🙌