After 30 years of working as a business professional, I’m now navigating an untamed and surprisingly busy landscape: that of unemployment.
I’ll be honest, it is wild out there. The rules of professional engagement don’t apply. There are no safety nets and no obligations. I’m an experienced leader in my field, but even I have started to wonder whether my emails produce a quiet, internal “Oh, no,” in the minds of the recruiters that they reach.
When you’re searching for your next role, time grinds along like tectonic plates – imperceptibly slow, without any sign of progress. Each day feels like a week and each week feels like a month.
I feel trapped in a live sitcom that I didn’t audition for, maybe one called ‘Recruiterland’. The words, “I’ll get back to you,” feel like a Hinge date rejection and, “I’ll let you know if something comes up,” is an outright snubbing.
Almost every week, I’ll dial in to an introductory call with a bright-eyed recruiter, who usually begins by saying: “So tell me about yourself! Starting at university.”
At university? The last thing I remember from university is losing two housemates during a rum-and-cola-fuelled night at The Venue in New Cross. I vaguely recall attending a lecture. I say something about an anthropology module, my first job and a moment that mattered.
“And then what did you do?” they chirp.
In the candidate hot seat
Ah, yes, that question. I brace myself, smile tightly and prepare to compress three decades of experience into a 10-minute presentation that will not result in work. Even for an experienced CHRO and former recruiter who has interviewed thousands of applicants, this remains a near-impossible question to answer.
Still, I give it my best go. As I walk through my career history, I include examples of global strategy, business transformation and crisis management. I explain that I successfully navigated four mergers, a string of high-profile litigations and various celebrity partnerships without too much drama. “Oh, the stories I could tell,” I say.
When you’re searching for your next role, time grinds along like tectonic plates – imperceptibly slow, without any sign of progress
They continue on their side, asking about preferences of location, sector and level as if, in this challenging and low-growth market, those filters are truly options.
I continue to talk about the challenges of coaching near-psychotic CEOs, dealing with employees forming collectives and managing the communications around high-profile litigation. I cover the handful of cherished leaders that make a difference and, of course, my compensation expectations.
Then comes the inevitable: “Wow, that’s really impressive! But, unfortunately, we don’t have anything suitable at the moment.”
I’m a tough cookie, but even I can crumble at times. No matter your age, stage or level, the job market is full of knocks. Sometimes you’re not the right fit and sometimes it’s not the right time. I get that – completely. But what grinds you down is having so many conversations that don’t lead anywhere. It’s a limbo that no amount of rhino-thick skin can prepare you for.
Then it’s get up the next day and repeat. It’s a groundhog-day scenario for the professionally adrift. You start to dread the recruiter rodeo. You start to dread hearing: “I see things picking up in the next quarter.”
Cultivating resilience
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve met many excellent head-hunters and recruiters – some are incredibly helpful, inspiring and uplifting. I’ve also been a recruiter myself, so it’s a world I’m familiar with and have a lot of respect for.
The truth is that being a CHRO without a job is like being a Michelin-star chef locked in a Wild Bean Cafe. You know your worth. You know your skills. But you are constantly being told, “you’re amazing! We’re just not hiring your kind of amazing right now.”
Still, you keep going. You take the calls. You go for the coffee. You polish your LinkedIn profile until it practically emits light. Because eventually – hopefully, before you start naming the houseplants after former colleagues – the right employer will come. One that recognises the magic, the madness and the massive value of someone who has kept entire organisations functioning.
More than seven in 10 jobseekers (72%) say the hunt for new employment has negatively impacted their mental wellbeing, according to a survey by Resume Genius, a CV-builder platform. Moreover, data from the Office for National Statistics shows that the number of job vacancies has steadily declined over the past 35 quarters.
It turns out I’m not alone in this struggle to secure a new role. Plenty of C-level jobseekers are sailing the same stormy seas, clinging to perspective and faith. It brings some comfort to know that, every morning, I am part of a tribe of people who are scrolling LinkedIn and trying not to spiral before 11am.
But, at some point, the closed doors begin to feel personal. You start narrating your life like it’s a David Attenborough documentary: “Here we see the CHRO, a majestic creature now rarely spotted in the wild, sending yet another CV into the void. Note her hopeful posture. It will not last.”
I try to remember that I’m not defined by work. My validation comes from within. It’s not about being chosen, it’s about choosing what’s right for me. This is simplistic but true. My therapist is a patient soul. Without support from him, my family and my friends, job-seeking would be a lonely abyss.
One day, I will probably look back on these days and reminisce about the freedom and space I had with misty eyes. I’ll think about the travel, the holidays, the time to reconnect with friends and the roster of recoup devotionals. But the period between jobs has been an uncomfortable rollercoaster. You need to strap in and yes – tears, tantrums and laughter are all allowed.
My advice for anyone out there trying to navigate the senior job market is to keep laughing. It’s fuel. And if a recruiter asks about university, say: “Maslow’s hierarchy best explains my attendance – it turns out self-actualisation didn’t start at 9am”. Then, smile wryly and ask bluntly: “Now, do you have any current CHRO mandates or not?”
After 30 years of working as a business professional, I'm now navigating an untamed and surprisingly busy landscape: that of unemployment.
I’ll be honest, it is wild out there. The rules of professional engagement don’t apply. There are no safety nets and no obligations. I'm an experienced leader in my field, but even I have started to wonder whether my emails produce a quiet, internal "Oh, no," in the minds of the recruiters that they reach.
When you're searching for your next role, time grinds along like tectonic plates – imperceptibly slow, without any sign of progress. Each day feels like a week and each week feels like a month.
