The Struggle You Face Is Redirecting You to Something Better

Didn’t get the job? You’ll get a better one.

Failed in a relationship? You’ll make the next one even stronger.

Business didn’t work out? You’ll find one that does.

I have applied for many jobs in my life. Most of them I was rejected from without being told why. Oh how I wish they would tell me why. Maybe it was me; maybe it was them.

Each interview I’d show up in a middle of the range priced suit, with a smile and a few examples of stuff I’d done in the past that was supposed to impress them. What they didn’t know was the uncertainty I’d faced only 15 minutes prior where I sat outside on the steps and listened to a Tony Robbins MP3. It was weird but necessary.

I’d walk in. Look at the lobby. Say to myself “I wish this was my office” and then walk out less than an hour later knowing that I’d screwed my chance up.

Those walks out of the lobby were the toughest. The ones where the concierge asks you “How was your meeting?” and you reply “Oh it went really well” when actually it was a disaster. We lie even when we struggle.

One time, I rolled up to an interview, sat down and told myself, “You got this.” A good friend had referred me. He was a big wig. They wouldn’t risk pissing him off, would they?

I was in a room with hiring managers and the internal talent person.

“Tell us about a time when you demonstrated humility.”

Crap, I’d forgotten the meaning of the word. I attempted to make something up and ended up describing compassion. The nice lady from talent looked at me as though I was completely stupid and hadn’t passed pre-school.

There was no phone call back. It was expected.

A few weeks later, I was on the interview circuit again. It was the wild west. “Sell, sell, sell” is what the LinkedIn recruiter influencers would say. “Show your value” was another common line. I didn’t really think I had that much value at that time in my life — they were the devastating remains of mental illness.

There were so many interviews. All of them led nowhere.

At one such point in the search, I added up how many job ads I’d applied for. It was over 100. Most of them never replied or acknowledged my application. Maybe I was useless.

The circus continued. Lions jumped through hoops. Elephants did what elephants did and ate peanuts (or something like that).

Some interviews felt like a murder trial. No matter what answer you gave to their question, they looked at you blankly as though you were lying. The looks on their faces said it all.

There was no emotion, just job interviews, applicants, resumes and ‘prior experience.’ I didn’t have much experience a lot of the time.

That was part of my problem looking back. I went for jobs that I was underqualified for that didn’t match my experience.

I remember going for a job in an investment bank. I honestly spoke to the recruiter as a joke thinking there would be no way in a million years they’d interview someone who didn’t have a finance degree and had one year of high school maths under his belt.

To my surprise, they asked for an interview. I said yes to prove everyone wrong who said I could never work in an investment bank. Each round of interviews, I looked like I didn’t care.

In my mind, there was no way I was getting a job there so I just wanted to see how far I could go. Turns out I got far.

Well, that was until they wanted me to take a maths test, which was the last step. I stupidly said yes and it was booked in for a Saturday. The day before, I woke up in a hot sweat. There was no way I was taking that maths test or working in an investment bank, but it was a nice thought.

I haven’t got most of the jobs I have applied for. The process is grueling and it’s not fun. The weird thing is, every rejection directed me to opportunities that I would never have found on my own.

Eventually, I found my stride and got the right career. It was a combination of a traditional job and my outside of working hours projects.

It was a journey that started as a teenager and became a business. Back then, there was no such word as ‘startup.’ It was just called business. The only goal was to make money and be able to pay the rent on a crappy little office that I was embarrassed to invite people to.

Co-working spaces didn’t exist either back then. Every day required me to drive to the poorer side of town. That was where rent was cheap.

The number of ideas would always change. One day I was interested in labor hire businesses and the next day it was the dream of an online company.

Something would always screw up. That was mostly a people problem — namely me.

Each idea felt as though it was the one. “One step away from a million dollars” is what I’d say to myself. I didn’t realize that you couldn’t get rich overnight.

After so many businesses, one eventually showed potential. That was the one my aunty visited one such day at a grand opening. She was proud. People said she looked like the Queen of England.

It didn’t last. Turns out that startups can be exhausting, especially when you’ve never worked on yourself and always on the business.

I finally developed the courage to leave it all behind. It wasn’t courage, though; it was desperation without a strategy. I sat at home and tried to dream up what I could do next.

An old colleague called. He had an idea that was going to make us millions.

We started working on the idea the next day. It was nothing new; just a similar business with different people. We’d joke, “If it wasn’t for those knobs, we could have been rich by now.”

We sent each other pictures of BMW M3’s and talked about selling the idea to investment banks. I’d never been in an investment bank before, but I had heard it was where million dollar cheques were handed out.

The business idea kept growing until we realized our one and only investor was a powered milk salesman with no money. Without cash, the dream was over — and fast.

I got out of the startup game for a while. I did the corporate thing, worked on a few ideas and then discovered something much bigger and better than a million dollars: blogging. And then later, leadership.

This journey led me to writing and then wanting to lead people. I was redirected away from the obsession of money and towards a new idea: doing something that might be useful to someone else.

The shift from selfish to unselfish was the new business I found.

I would never have known all those years ago as a tall, skinny, drunk teenager that business would teach me this. That’s what redirection looks like.

Something better awaits you too. Have faith and enjoy the process.

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