I thought I’d have this figured out by now
At 35, I still don’t know what carrer I want. There, I said it.
I’ve said that sentence out loud before and immediately followed it with a laugh—because laughing makes it feel less embarrassing. Like if I joke about it first, no one will notice how much it actually bothers me.
But it does bother me.
Because at 35, people stop asking that question with curiosity and start asking it with… concern.
You can feel it in the pause after you answer.
The polite nod.
The quick subject change.
But it doesn’t bother me so much for the fact that people think differently of me. It bothers me for the fact that I truly don’t know. I am feeling the urgency to know.
I’ve done a lot of things… just not one “thing”
I’ve done a lot of things. Too many things to list without sounding like I’m padding a résumé.
I’ve worked hard and been responsible. I’ve pivoted when life fell apart and pivoted again when it didn’t work the way I hoped it would.
And still—here I am.
Scrolling job listings at night that don’t fit.
Saving ideas I never quite act on.
Thinking, Surely by now this should feel clearer.
It’s not that I don’t want to work — I just don’t want to be exhausted anymore
Here’s the part I don’t say out loud very often:
It’s not that I don’t want to work. I have great work ethic and I’m a hard worker. It’s always something I’ve been proud of myself for.
It’s that I don’t want my work to cost me my peace anymore. I don’t want to get up and go to a job that I dread every day.
Been there, done that.
There was a time I chased things because they sounded impressive or because they felt like the “right” next step. And sometimes they were right—for that season.
But seasons change. And nobody warns you how disorienting that can be when your identity has been tied to productivity for most of your life.
Let me say that again. Nobody warns you how disorienting it can be when your identity has been tied to productivity most of your life.
When your work becomes your identity
And now, I’m learning and growing and I’ve realized that my identity isn’t in my “career path.”
My identity is who I am when everything else is stripped away.
It’s in who my Creator says I am.
So, this is one of the scariest things I’ve done in my life. I’ve walked away from security that comes from a “job.” Don’t hear me wrong, I still work to live. But, I know where my true provision comes from.
I walked away from the best position in my building. From great pay. From being five months away from being fully vested. Because money isn’t always worth your peace.
I left a job I dreaded going to everyday for something I loved. And that thing I loved? It came to an end too. Because seasons come and seasons go.
Life is always changing, and so are we.
Motherhood changed me. Faith changed me. Burnout definitely changed me.
Things I once wanted, I don’t have the stomach for anymore.
Things I once overlooked now matter deeply.
And somehow we’re expected to pretend none of that should affect what we do for a living.
I think a lot of us don’t actually want a career anymore.
We want:
- something that fits inside real life
- something that doesn’t demand all our best hours
- something that leaves room for joy, rest, and being present
I’m no longer about that hustle culture. I just want to have time for what really matters.
And then we feel guilty for wanting that. Like it means we’ve given up or failed.
Maybe I’m not lost — maybe I’m in between
Some days I wish someone would just say,
“Hey. It makes sense that you don’t know yet.”
Because maybe not knowing isn’t the problem.
Maybe the problem is believing there’s one correct answer and that we missed it somewhere around 27.
What I’m learning to ask instead
If you’re 35 and still don’t know what career you want, here’s what I’m learning—slowly, imperfectly, sometimes kicking and screaming:
You don’t have to figure out the rest of your life to take the next step.
You don’t have to name it forever for it to be worth doing.
And you don’t owe anyone a polished explanation.
Right now, I’m letting myself ask a very simple question:
What fits this version of my life?
That’s it. No five-year plan. No big declaration. Just what I need in this moment.
And honestly? That feels like progress.
If you enjoyed this post, you may enjoy my post on Mama, Don’t Give Up on Your Dreams!
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