The Oh Sh*t Moment

First, a little background...

Both of my parents spent most of their professional careers in corporate America. Engineers by trade, they immigrated to the states in the their 20s to pursue professional advancement.

My dad’s last corporate gig ended in his 40s. My mom’s office gig came to an end in her early 50s.

They tried going back on the job market. When they were declined for every position they applied for, they heard every variety of non-answer you can imagine. It’s the wrong fit. You’re over-qualified. You’re experience is not quite right. You were so close. We really liked you, but sorry.

None of those reasons mattered. Corporate America unanimously decided to permanently shut their doors. For them.

They became entrepreneurs by necessity. But, they weren’t prepared for it. The skill set required to succeed in a corporate job and the skill set required to launch a business from scratch are different. And, no one gave them a warning this was coming. It just happened.

Fortunately, they both adjusted well to their post-corporate lives. But, I saw the struggle. It’s not a position I’d choose to be in.

The assumption that my corporate career gets whisked away at age 50 could be rooted in proximity bias. Post-traumatic-stress-disorder by association. Real or perceived, I’m not willing to suffer the same fate without adequate preparation for that contingency.

Their corporate careers ended over 10 years ago. The universe was whispering to me—”this could be you in 20 years”. I ignored it and kept hammering away at my corporate gig.

But, the universe had another reminder in store for me.

The Oh Sh*t Moment

I had just shut down my startup. I knew it was a dice-roll from the beginning, but it was a bummer nonetheless.

I was back on the job market.

A former colleague made an intro to a successful CEO. His startup was rocket-shipping. He was in his mid-20s. His company had a billion+ dollar valuation. He was a 15-years-younger-than-me version of what super-success would have looked like at the startup I just shut down. I was genuinely happy for him.

He needed someone with my background.

Luckily for me, someone at his firm used to work in HR at a company I was recently at, and I thought she had a good idea of my comp requirements.

We had a few good chats and they made an offer: they wanted me to come onboard for less than 50% of what I made in my previous job.

I politely declined and moved on. There wasn’t any point negotiating with us being that far apart.

But, this moment got me thinking. I realized that I wasn’t giving the job market much information about what I know and why it’s valuable. Unless I spent 8-15 hours interviewing with a panel, no potential employer could know what I know and have any clue about how much my experience, knowledge, and skill set might be worth.

The fact that I was offered a job for 50% less than I made in my last role wasn’t a 25-year-old CEO’s fault. It was mine. I hadn’t made my value clear enough. I hadn’t created enough visibility for what I do.

That was the big “oh shit” moment.

The Call To Action

That moment lit a fire within me.

The insultingly low salary offer was the kick in the pants I needed.

It inspired the following promise to myself:

I won’t be at the mercy of a single person’s opinion for my livelihood. I’ll diversify my sources of income. I’ll get so good at what I do, and be so well known for it, that the work will find me.

I don’t know how long it’ll take to get there, or what the roadmap looks.

But, I do know that online writing will be at the center of my strategy.