They just use your mind and they never give you credit. It's enough to drive you crazy if you let it

I'm leading with lyrics here guys:

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don’t. (Baz Lurhman, Wear Sunscreen)

Hi. I’m one of those 40-year-olds.

I don’t feel 40 (though I'm pretty sure I look it—thank you, high-stress jobs, and that time I lived on Monster Energy Drinks and cigarettes. I think my neck looks a bit like Trumps on the time cover). But here I am: 40, vaguely confused, occasionally terrified, intermittently brilliant, and re-evaluating everything while the tech industry eats itself alive.

The job market? It's a flaming bin fire with a side of existential dread. A LinkedIn minefield where every post reads like a eulogy for someone’s career. “After five wonderful years, I’m sad to say I’ve been made redundant…” Translation: Capitalism/AI found me expendable—again".

So I’m reassessing. A terrifying process that involves dusting off your CV, your insecurities, and fears that peaked years ago that you thought you'd got over. And learning new skills. I've just signed up for a teaching course, but that's another story.

Yet—despite years of imposter syndrome whispering "You're winging it," I sat down and assessed my skills. Honestly.

I’ve got them. And that’s not arrogance. It’s a survival tactic. You either back yourself or wait forever to be “discovered” like a sad bottle of wine behind the sofa.

Here’s the low down of my working life:

• I got my liquor license and ran a chaotic, music bar. It was loud, messy, and full of difficult people—skills that oddly transfer well to literally every workplace. (It was also great fun!)

• I booked and managed events, briefed designers, wrangled illustrators, herded bands, and survived more "creative differences" than Fleetwood Mac.You can take a look at some of that stuff here.

• I used that platform to highlight social issues with companies that didn’t really do marketing. (Translation: I made noise for people with no budget and even less branding.)

• I ran analytics and AdWords accounts, managed social media for everyone from million-dollar corporations to indie animation studios, becoming a digital chameleon in the process.

• I’ve written radio news scripts, conducted interviews, reviewed gigs, written features. Journalism is a hustle—and if you’ve ever met a freelance journalist, you know they can survive anything. (You can read some things here if you want to)

• Then I specialised in UX, Product Design and Content, which is what I've been doing for the last 8 years

  
  

I’ve also worked in industries from hairdressing to corporate finance. I can adapt. I work hard. And I do—no matter what the job pays. I’ve lived on 30p soup and I’ve eaten Kobe steak.

I’ve cleaned toilets and I’ve run campaigns.

I've never had a trust fund. I've had overdrafts and overdoses of ambition. You get what you're given, and you run with it—ideally not into a wall.

So, no—I don’t know exactly what I want to do next. But I know what I can do. I know my strengths (adaptability, a geeky need for stats and research, creativity, a killer instinct for chaos) and my weaknesses (letting anxiety drive the bus, forgetting to charge the bus, occasionally setting the bus on fire).

And here’s the thing, to quote Baz again: Don’t waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind…The race is long. And in the end, it’s only with yourself.

(Unless you’re in tech, in which case the race has been cancelled and replaced with a mass layoff and a “thoughts and prayers” email from HR.)

The real work is knowing your talents, playing to them, and—this is crucial—knowing what you’re not good at and leaving that shit alone.

So, good luck. You’re doing fine. Even if you’re flailing a bit. Especially if you’re flailing a bit.

The flail is part of the dance.

But a woman [N.B., or a man, or anyone beyond the binary] is a changeling, always shifting shape, Just when you think you have it figured out, Something new begins to take  I am King, Florence and the Machine 

Go ahead y'all: Pour yourself a cup of ambition*

*Also lyrics from the title, Dolly Parton: 9-5