Am I Ready to Turn the Page on a 25-Year Career?

 

I’ve thought about changing my career for a long time. It’s been like a recurring dream, each time returning more vivid than before.

Yet realistically, the comfort of knowing what I have to do in my current role feels safe.

But if I’m honest about where that “safety” has taken me, I feel disappointed. The lack of challenge, the absence of real problems to solve, the sense of standing still instead of moving towards something meaningful, all of it has forced me to reconsider the future of the middle-aged woman I have become.

Perhaps it’s hormones quietly packing their bags. Perhaps it’s the last few stray good intentions wandering off to greener pastures. Or perhaps it’s simply dissatisfaction refusing to be ignored.

Whatever it is, the dream is getting closer.

My current legal placement has been a revelation. I was fortunate enough to be placed within the Legal team at my university, and stepping into that environment felt like entering another world. Serenity and professionalism flowed through a beautiful space filled with calm, respectful people.

Compared to working as a cover supervisor, the contrast was striking.

There was silence. A lack of disruption. The luxury of being allowed to complete a task, and then discuss it thoughtfully.

Wow.

I didn’t get everything right, but I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time: achievement. And beneath that, a quiet but persistent desire to migrate permanently to that world.

The bigger decision, however, still looms.

After browsing through roles I could realistically do, and some I simply wanted to do, I applied speculatively for what looked like the perfect job on paper. It would mean a modest pay cut, yes. But if progression, challenge, support, and purpose were present, I was, and still am, prepared to make that trade.

To my surprise, they responded.

Not because I doubt my ability, I don’t. I know I can do the job. But after years in education, and hundreds of rejections following my first permanent teaching post, you don’t quite expect the door to open.

The rejection phase began when I moved from England, where French was compulsory, to Wales, where after two years it became optional. Fewer pupils meant fewer jobs. Add to that the uncomfortable reality of being at the top of the main pay scale, nearing threshold, and therefore “more expensive.” Schools, working with tight budgets, hesitate. If the competition is good enough and cheaper, it will do.

But “it will do” won’t do for me.

My expertise across multiple fields, my work ethic, patience, resilience, and constant yearning to learn deserve to be valued. I need visible steps I can climb, not mountains reserved for the chosen few.

I still have many working years ahead of me, and I want those years to lift me, not flatten me. I want to be encouraged to pursue higher ground, to create, to believe, to elevate.

So if I sound picky, it’s because I haven’t been for many years.

And perhaps today, that ends.