Next year, I turn 40.
And I still don’t really have a “career” as such.
I can’t be the only one in this position.
Part of the problem is that I don’t actually know what I want to do.
And if I’m honest… I’m not even sure I want a typical career.
My background is in hospitality, cooking and managing pub kitchens.
Completely at odds with that, for the last eight years I’ve run a digital media business. I started a personal finance blog, won awards, and built it into something that made an okay income.
But it never really took off in the way I’d imagined.
It was a leap of faith. I’d only been blogging for a year when I decided to go all in. I hadn’t earned anything yet, but I had some savings and a strong determination to make it work.
Eight years later, I’m back working part-time in a pub. Which, on paper, might not look like a glowing success story.
Not that there’s anything wrong with pub work. It fits reasonably well around family life, even if I do miss weekends with my family.
Some days it’s hard not to feel like my digital media “career” has been a failure. I wonder if, had I chosen something more conventional, I’d be further up a career ladder by now, earning more, progressing more, feeling more secure.
I’ve always made enough to pay the bills. I’ve never gone into debt. But I’ve never “made it” either.
Maybe I don’t put in enough hours.
Maybe I spread myself too thin.
Maybe I’m just not good enough.
The truth is, I love writing. I love creating and publishing posts. I even enjoy the technical side – keyword research, SEO, the strategy behind it all.
And being self-employed meant I was there for my kids, too.
Every school drop-off and pick-up.
Every nativity, crafting afternoon, and sports day.
Would I trade that for more money?
Probably not.
I know I procrastinate. I know I don’t always work as many hours as I could.
I also know I’m often exhausted.
The house is rarely completely tidy. I have responsibilities beyond my own household, and parents who need support with disabilities.
A husband who suffers from debilitating migraines.
Life is full. My brain is full.
The last two years have been hard. Income from my business has dropped significantly. At first, I thought it was a blip because I’d taken maternity leave, but things never quite recovered.
Google’s AI overviews have changed the blogging landscape dramatically; fewer click-throughs mean less income from ads, affiliates, and sponsors.
It’s not just me, I know many other bloggers and freelancers are in the same boat.But it still feels personal. My blogs are my baby’s. I’ve spent hundreds of hours creating genuinely helpful content.
So I did what I had to make ends meet.
I’m grateful I was able to get a job and not have to navigate the benefits system just to make ends meet while my husband was off sick with a shoulder injury.
When I started at my new pub job, I really missed the previous pub I worked at, depsite leaving eight years ago.
The colleagues. The locals I’d known since I was 16. The comfort and familiarity. That pub was lost to a fire in 2022, and if it still existed, it probably would have been my first port of call when looking for work.
I know myself well enough to admit that I crave routine and familiarity. I’m not bold when it comes to starting over, I’m shy and introverted at the best of times.
I’m lucky in some respects. My new colleagues are lovely, and I was genuinely surprised they hired me after eight years away from the industry, given my lack of recent work experience. I work hard and know I am a valued member of the team.
But this job doesn’t feel like a career either. I don’t want more hours than what I already do.
I’m grateful for a job that helps pay the bills and that I can leave behind when I clock out, because there’s already so much going on in my head.
Everywhere I look online, people seem to have high-flying careers and salaries with lots of zeroes.
With childcare costs, I couldn’t work full-time even if I wanted to. It simply wouldn’t make sense for our family. And don’t even get me started on my serious lack of pension.
I don’t actually believe everyone needs a high-powered career. We need people in service jobs. We need kitchen porters. We need the people washing up, prepping food, making desserts, and keeping places running.
There shouldn’t be shame in that.
Still, at 40, it can feel strange telling people that’s what I do, especially when my own business isn’t where I hoped it would be.
In my own head, I know the truth: we needed the money. I’m doing the right thing for my family. Without this job, we wouldn’t have paid the bills.
Right now, this is what works for our family. It gives us stability. And gives me space to keep building something of my own on the days I’m at home without my toddler.
My son starts school in September 2027.
Maybe that will be the time to stop and properly ask myself what I want the next chapter to look like.
Perhaps it’s also okay not to have a grand plan right now. Maybe it’s okay just to be me.
My pub job has given us breathing room. It’s allowed me to keep building my blogging business, even in the months when the income isn’t high.
It might not look impressive on paper, but it’s the right choice for where my life is right now, and that counts for something.