The Funemployment Wind-Down: Navigating Career and Identity in this New Chapter

Two Months In – Routines Established, Job Search Go Time!

It's been nearly two months since our arrival in Auckland, and life here is gradually falling into a comforting rhythm. Our kids have settled into their school routines, and our bright home in Central Auckland is now fully furnished, largely thanks to Charlie’s swift and top-notch furniture-assembly skills. We've become acquainted with the local grocery stores, established a good rotation of family meal options, and more generally embraced the daily ebb and flow of life.

As the suitcases finally empty and my family finds its footing, my attention now turns toward the (seemingly existential and ever-looming) job search. What appeared to be an exhilarating opportunity for a career transition two months ago when it was conceptual/theoretical has now transformed into a cacophony of self-doubt and inner turmoil. The once alluring prospect of blank pages and new horizons now present as daunting shadows casting doubt. Those nagging voices in my head decry that I should have secured a job yesterday, that my skills aren't transferable, and that a fulfilling career is slipping away. While I know these voices are irrational, I wanted to take some time to step back and reflect on these persistent questions – to dig into the deeper whys and consider intricate interplay at work -- of identity, career, and grief, and specifically, of ambiguous loss.

Bridging Career and Caregiving – A Decade (/Life?)-Long Odyssey

My career has been a cornerstone of my identity for as long as I can remember. Over the past decade, it's been a defining aspect of who I am, especially as I navigated the relentless challenge of balancing caregiving for my mother with my professional aspirations. My Mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer's when I was just 26, and it forced me into a critical crossroads. My dreams of international development work and globe-trotting were suddenly overshadowed by the grim statistics of individuals, particularly women, leaving the workforce to care for their ailing parents.

However, my resolve was unwavering in both realms —I wanted to be there for my mother, and I was fiercely motivated to remain in the workforce. I was clear-eyed about moving home, but then was relieved and grateful for the chance to get my master’s at UK and find that a large, international non-government organization had an office in Lexington. I seized the opportunity to work with them in whatever capacity I could. My initial role of “Closeout Specialist” - which consisted of tracking down documentation and financial reconciliation of old grants – seemed like the most unsexy of non-profit jobs out there, but I took it and felt immensely fortunate to have it.

Over the decade that followed, I managed to progress professionally, transitioning into more challenging roles, and inching closer to international work. However, it exacted a high toll and came at significant personal cost; I felt constantly exhausted and degraded by having to manage all the unseen demands and struggles of caregiving and remain steadfast, present, and engaged at the office.

Examples abound -- I still hold a vivid memory of being teased by a colleague for not being a dedicated teammate because I missed a conference call that I was supposed to be on one harrowing morning, in which Mom had a bathroom accident and I had to hurriedly clean and comfort her at the start of an already frenzied day. I can still feel the swelling anger in my throat, how furious, lonely, and isolated I was – how little it felt like my coworkers, and especially those in my age cohort, understood how hard I was fighting to simply find the hours and emotional energy to show up to work each day.

I remember in early 2018 I was working on a demanding and contentious project and was asked to convene a strategic workshop with global colleagues in London. The preparations weren’t solely logistics-oriented – we needed to evaluate different financial model design options, requiring a good deal of brainpower on my behalf. The effort also required late nights working on spreadsheets, designing a pre-work framework, etc. And amid this whole project – it coincided with the same timeframe for preparing to move my Mom into an assisted living facility. It felt like a period of heightened complexity at work that hit in parallel with a deeply, emotionally laden time at home. Both the work project and the move went smoothly and successfully, but the toll it exacted from me felt intense. I still recall the flood of relief as I boarded the plane from London to go home after successfully pulling off the meeting and sobbing on the plane – knowing that the moment I landed we would finish packing Mom up and prepare for her to transition. It was so much to bear and carry; it felt so isolating.

Beyond these specific instances, my broader career moves were also overshadowed by caregiving challenges. After moving Mom to an Assisted Living facility in 2018 we made the decision to move to DC so I could get closer to my aspired work – and be more directly connected to international development and programmatic opportunities. But even still, I was Mom’s primary caregiver – traveling back to see her every two months, attending to bills and paperwork, calling regularly to get updates from friends and family on how she was doing. While the days held a more “regular” cadence, there were still frequent calls from her nursing home that could derail a day – that she had fallen, or that she needed some additional level of care.

This persisted even through last year when I embraced an exciting but demanding new role. The new position came at a time when Mom's care needs sharply escalated, ultimately leading to her transition into end-of-life care. Her passing left me emotionally shattered, and the juxtaposition of intense grief with the demands of the job accentuated the sense that I wasn't the right fit. Consequently, I made the difficult decision to depart from both that job and Save the Children in January of this year, capping a decade characterized by multiple episodes of burnout and leaving me uncertain about the next steps on my career journey.

Grief Unveiled: The Interplay of My Career and My Mom’s Battle

I've been pondering the past decade, where my career and caregiving experiences were closely intertwined. Looking back, it was a challenging period, and I've found comfort in the concept of ambiguous loss, as explained by psychologist Pauline Boss. It's a unique kind of grief characterized by its unresolved nature, often experienced by caregivers of loved ones facing cognitive decline. This type of grief is particularly complex, especially when coupled with a chronic, ongoing illness that lacks the closure of some other losses. Upon reflection, I realize that my career journey is deeply connected to this form of grief. It's not just about losing my mother; it's also about the slower burn - the mourning of the career I could have had and the life I might have lived.

This complexity breeds a curious cognitive dissonance within me. While I'm proud and firmly confident of the choices I've made in caring for my mother, I can't escape the haunting notion of aspects of the life I sacrificed and missed career opportunities. Now, as I embark on the journey of finding a new job, the job search process has taken on a deeply personal hue. While I would never verbally ask or expect it, there is some deep, quiet yearning for potential employers to see beyond my CV, to understand that my story is imbued with resilience and tenacity, honed through years of juggling caregiving and work.

Recentering Identity: Beyond Career’s Allure

Currently I’m reading “Anam Cara”, and this week I was struck by John O'Donohue's profound words.

“Too many people belong too naively to the systems in which they are involved. When they are suddenly laid off, or the system collapses, or someone else is promoted, they feel broken, wounded, and demeaned. In nearly every corporation or workplace, you will find many disappoint individuals. Initially, they brought the energy and innocence of their belonging to their work, but they were let down, disappointed, and treated as functionaries. Their energy was claimed and used, but their soul was never engaged.

The heart of the matter: You should never belong fully to something that is outside of yourself. It is very important to find a balance in your belonging. You should never belong totally to any cause or system….Where you belong should always be worthy of your dignity.”

This passage feels like an echo to my thoughts and current process of self-rediscovery, serving as a gentle reminder to reclaim my identity instead of continuing to passively surrender to external systems or expectations. I've come to realize that I've placed an excessive burden on my career, allowing it to dominate my sense of self, and more deeply, to permeate my soul. As I reflect inward and expand my self-perception, I'm deeply proud of all that remains unseen in my workplace - the delicate balance I struck between caregiving and work. If anything, my mother's passing has left me grappling with a hard-earned lesson, sometimes coupled with a tidal wave of anger - the realization of the impact of prioritizing my career over other aspects of my life.

While I grant myself grace in instances where I fell short in caregiving (and have rightly recognized how the overburdening made some mistakes inevitable) – I am seeking to learn from the grief I feel in wishing I’d had deeper stores of patience. I realize that what I yearn for most, here and now, is more time with my mom. I find myself longing for a chance to redo those moments when I was stressed by work deadlines and it led me to snap at my mother for the simplest tasks, or to rush past her and not see her and take hold of the chance to spend time together. Those moments, challenging as they were, were invaluable. They were moments when I still had time with her.

Where to Go From Here

As I step into this new chapter of life, the threads of identity and career remain intricately woven together. However, I am determined to ensure that they are not synonymous. It's a lesson in recognizing that my worth extends far beyond the titles and accolades on my CV. The experiences I've gained, the resilience I've developed, and the love I've shared with my family, and above all, my and my Mom’s story, all contribute to my identity. With this renewed perspective, I embark on the job hunt, seeking a position that aligns with my aspirations but doesn't define my entire existence.

In this journey, I'm learning to uncenter my career in my self-identity and embrace the multifaceted richness and broader narratives that make up who I am. While I sometimes miss the mark, I’m striving for that – and for today, the striving is enough.

[seen on IG right when I was moving here; has resonance with my broader reflections on career]