The Working Mum
The Working Mum
The Pivoting Princess.
Navigating the work and corporate world is… ghetto.
No, for real.
It’s like a full ritual of figuring out life outside of your home life — and nobody really explains the rules.
When I graduated college in 2006, we were in a recession. One of the worst job markets for new graduates.
Now, for a girl who had been working since the age of 13, that didn’t scare me.
But the job search process?
That was a wild ride.
I submitted hundreds of applications… and got two interviews.
Two.
So to say the options were limited is an understatement.
My dad couldn’t understand it.
I did everything we were told to do:
Go to school.
Be involved.
Get experience.
And I did.
I worked at grocery stores, movie theaters, county parks, as a bank teller, a barista, and even a call center employee (in my future voice… at the same time).
So I had experience.
But apparently… not the right experience.
That part shocked me.
Because I wasn’t expecting to know everything.
But doesn’t my track record show I can learn?
Doesn’t my degree show I understand communication, structure, and process?
Nope.
Everywhere I went, it was the same answer:
“You don’t have enough experience.”
Which never made sense to me…
Because every job requires training.
No matter how experienced you are, you still have to learn their way of doing things.
So if I can learn — and I’ve proven I can learn — what exactly are we measuring here?
But… life was lifing.
I was pregnant with my first daughter during my senior year.
My husband had just returned from deployment and was adjusting back to civilian life.
I didn’t just want a job.
I needed one.
Fast.
So those two interviews?
That was it.
One flew us out, put us in a hotel, hosted a full conference, and did a panel interview.
I just knew I nailed it.
The other?
“Come in, interview, we’ll call you.”
No razzle dazzle.
Guess which one offered me the job?
Yep.
The simple one.
So I started my career with the federal government.
And my dad?
Oh, he told all of Broward County.
There is something about boomer parents and a “good government job.”
He was like:
“Alright… you in there.”
Oh, I was in there.
I’ve been in there for 20 years.
I’m not going to lie — at first, I wanted to bolt.
But big girl decisions, a newborn, and needing health insurance?
That will humble you real quick.
So I stayed.
And I made moves.
I transferred from St. Petersburg to South Florida…
then realized that salary + South Florida cost of living = absolutely not.
So what does a flower child do?
I moved to Atlanta.
And back then, it felt like every South Florida graduate had a secret meeting and decided:
“We going to ATL.”
(Equivalent to everybody moving to Texas or North Carolina during COVID.)
And your girl?
Still that girl.
Who’s that girl… la la la… (in my Eve voice)
I moved up the GS scale, became a certified trainer, and traveled to train others.
Because if I was going to be there…
I was leaving with something. (in my Denzel voice)
We bought homes.
Had another baby.
My husband earned a bachelors degree and re-entered federal service…. as a civilian.
Life was moving.
Then… it slowed down.
Career growth?
Stopped.
Not because I stopped trying.
The doors just stopped opening.
I applied for higher positions for years…
and couldn’t even get my résumé selected.
Then life shifted again.
My dad passed.
We moved back to Florida.
Had another baby.
And one day I realized something that stopped me in my tracks:
I hadn’t had a job interview in over 10 years.
Not one.
So now here I am… in my 40s.
Thinking:
If I can’t grow here… maybe it’s time to grow somewhere else.
And then it hit me:
Just because you can do something…
and do it well…
doesn’t mean you’re supposed to keep doing it.
Sometimes we stay because it’s familiar.
But we are flowers.
And flowers need growth.
Because when something stops growing…
it starts to wilt.
But let me tell you something else.
Growth in your 40s?
Looks VERY different than growth in your 20s.
We were told:
Go to college.
Get experience.
Move up.
In my Maury voice:
That was a lie.
Now?
You need résumé coaches.
Interview strategies.
Keyword optimization.
Panel performance skills.
Because that’s what it is now.
A performance.
You’re not just applying for a job.
You’re auditioning.
You tailor your résumé for HR AI…
just to maybe get to a human…
then perform for a panel of 3–5 people…
answering questions in a very specific way
to score enough points
to maybe get selected.
That’s a lot.
And let’s be honest:
People lie in interviews all the time.
The system literally teaches you how to sound qualified, not necessarily how to be qualified.
So after 10 years…
I applied outside of the federal government.
And reality hit me:
My experience didn’t translate the way I thought it would.
The interview process is a full production.
“Nobody wants to work” isn’t true…
It’s that hiring is based on performance — not consistency.
So yes…
People who don’t actually want to work can still get in.
Because they know how to perform.
But don’t hate the player.
Hate the game.
And with that understanding… and God leading the way…
I finally landed a new job.
And not just any job.
A new field.
A new organization.
A new coast.
California.
An FSU sweatshirt in Sacramento. Because sometimes life takes your degree, your experience, and says… plot twist.
Off we go.
Adventure awaits.
Because God will pull you out of your comfort zone and say:
If you want something different…
you have to do something different.
And this?
Is different.
Different location.
Different work.
Different life.
But I love new things.
Change doesn’t scare me.
It feeds my spirit.
I am a millennial.
And we’ve been through some things.
The world we were prepared for…
is not the world we’re living in.
So our bloom?
Looks different.
And in the next Mum…
we’ll talk about the transition.
Packing.
Moving.
Starting over.
Keeping our sunrise on the East Coast…
while learning to watch the sunset from the West.
Until the next bloom.
Work in power, not in survival.
Turns out the view hits different when you stop surviving and start trusting yourself again.
Learning a new rhythm — neighborhood walks, random road trips, mountain views, streams, sunshine, and saying yes to the little moments in between big life changes. Transition isn’t just moving… it’s learning how to live again.
Northern California side quest.
One thing about us — we’ll always stop for the scenic route. Even when life feels uncertain, we keep moving together.