I had a lot of confidential conversations last month. And one thing is clear: we are in a major season of transition. Not a blip. Not a bad quarter. A season.
For years, I called myself a career coach. A strategist. But I’ve been sitting with those words AND they don’t fit anymore. Not because the work changed, but because I changed. And if I’m honest, those words never quite captured how I see myself, or how the women I work with would actually describe what happens when we work together. It’s far more transformative.
So I’ve taken a step back from the career coaching piece. And I want to tell you why.
600K+ Black women are currently unemployed. I can’t in good conscience sit across from a woman in that number and tell her she’s not trying hard enough OR that the answer is tweaking her résumé so an algorithm doesn’t filter her out. The problem isn’t her. It never was.
The market is oversaturated. The playing field is not level. And for many women right now, this season is asking something different of you; not more hustle, but more honesty. More discernment. More rest.
If You’ve Been Applying Like It’s a Full-Time Job — This Is for You
Because it IS a full-time job. You already know that. You’re tracking spreadsheets, tailoring cover letters, showing up to networking events on fumes, and refreshing your inbox like it owes you something.
When I coach women who are in that in-between time…Iyanla calls it “the meantime”, I don’t immediately ask what they’re applying for. I ask them to stop. To rest. To notice.
And if the word rest just made you break out in hives then your body is talking to you. Loudly. Listen to it.
Rest doesn’t mean doing nothing. It means noticing. And noticing is its own kind of radical act.
Notice what’s missing. Not from your résumé. From your life.
Notice what’s slipped. The things you keep meaning to get back to.
Notice your body’s responses. That Pavlovian ping from your phone. What does it do to you? Does your heart race a little?
Notice who checks on you. And who went quiet when things got hard.
Notice the last time you did something for yourself. Not an errand. Not a chore. Something just for you.
My Pink Slip. My Permission Slip.
About 2.5 years ago, I got a pink slip. I could see it coming so it wasn’t the shock it might have been. And honestly? With everything happening in my personal life at the time, it felt less like a door closing and more like the universe finally giving me permission to breathe.
I had grief in my house. Cancer in my family. A body that had been running on overdrive for years. And suddenly I had space.
Permission I gave myself that nobody handed me:
- Permission to slow down without calling it failure
- Permission to actually listen — to myself, to my body, to what I’d been drowning out
- Permission to do The Artist’s Way, even though calling myself an artist felt fraudulent
- Permission to be present for my family through grief and cancer by actually being there
- Permission to go to the gardens and museum on a Tuesday afternoon and just take it all in
- Permission to record a podcast with a friend that was unmarketed, imperfect, just to hear our voices again without perfectionism hovering overhead
That garden became my teacher. Watching things grow dormant and come back. Watching roots go deep before anything bloomed. Watching plants lean toward the light without apology.
I learned more about pivots in that garden and noticed the metaphor of how it shows up in women navigating career transitions.
|
|
The Question I Ask Every Woman I Coach
Fill in the blank with whatever wildly liberating, joy-filled, slightly childlike thing you’ve been sitting on. The thing that sounds too indulgent. Too impractical. Too much.
In our effort to fit inside corporate structures, to be palatable and professional and strategic — so many of us have compartmentalized ourselves into corners. Myself included. We self-edit. We code-switch. And eventually, the parts of us that feel most alive just go dormant.
I’ve had to reckon with this myself. I’ve wanted to make my offerings more immersive, more joyful, more artful, less scripted. And I’ve had to give myself the same permission I offer my clients…the permission to want something that isn’t perfectly packaged. Permission to not have all the answers before I begin. So don’t be surprised if you see “out of the box” offerings from me. It’s an invitation to join in this idea I’m thinking of calling it Recess. Yes, like when we had a break to play between work. If you’d like to come on this journey with me, Join me here
Whatever season you’re in right now, you are not behind. Your pink slip might just be the permission slip you’ve been waiting for.
Warmly,
Garland Fuller
P.S. If you haven’t checked out the Pivot Series, this is your invitation to listen/watch.
0 Comments