Driving through the intersection of regret and growth

I've been struggling lately to let go of past versions of my career. I miss public service. I miss waking up every day knowing I was part of something bigger than myself. I never quite realized how much professional fulfillment I gained working for a cause and a mission.

When I finished graduate school, I went straight to work for the CIA as an intelligence analyst. A few years later, I got accepted in the Foreign Service of the State Department (the formal way of saying I was a diplomat at US embassies abroad). I got to do some cool stuff while working for the federal government. I mean, some REALLY cool stuff. I'm privileged to say I've been on the sidelines of events in history books.

US Embassy Tashkent

That career might have been the best fit for me professionally, but it was a complicated time for me and my family. So a few years ago, I left because I knew I would regret not taking time to be near my loved ones. And now, I find I regret leaving.

Both of those regrets are valid. I would have regretted not leaving when I did for the reasons I did, and simultaneously, I regret leaving because I miss the work and sense of fulfillment.

To my sense of regret, I’ve now added the frustration of private sector careers, which involve a lot more job hunting and instability. I've discovered what so many others have: it's difficult to translate federal service into something that looks attractive to private sector employers, who (in my experience) just don't get it, and who oftentimes don't care.* In most federal agencies - especially the competitive ones - you wear lots of hats. You become confident stepping into leadership and managerial roles, and you learn how to acquire new skills quickly. You're not as intimidated by working on a program you think you're not qualified for because at some point in your career, you've been asked to step up, serve, and willingly be tossed into cold and choppy water with a few sharks.

Private employers don't seem to understand this, and in turn, I don't understand why they don't understand it. Why is it difficult for them to appreciate the scope of responsibilities on your résumé and recognize how your background directly translates to the work their company does? Why don't they see the enormous value in a seasoned, high-performing employee who can easily learn new skills? Why do they think having an MBA is a prerequisite for having managerial skills and being a leader?

Lobby of US Embassy Montevideo at Christmastime

Compounding my angst is the fact that, honestly, most jobs feel a little bit boring. I used to work every day on causes I cared about and with people who were motivated to serve. I got so much energy from that environment, and now I find it hard to stay motivated to care when the only goal is making money.

Dwelling on all of this doesn't serve any purpose. Recognizing it and acknowledging it might serve a purpose, but dwelling on it (like I am) doesn't. I'm holding on to a version of myself that no longer exists, and that's damaging to my mental health and futile to my career growth. I'm picky about professional opportunities because they can't possibly match my imperfect-yet-somehow-perfect job of yesteryear. And I'm stunting my own development by staying in that headspace.

I know I made the decision to leave public service for the right reasons. I would make it again, even knowing how hard it has been to adjust. So I'll grieve the loss, honor the past experiences for their good times and their bad, and pick up the pieces that remain. It's time to live the version of my career that is available to me now, just with a little more grey hair and a lot more wisdom.

I'm taking a deep breath and trying to focus on what I'm facing right now. I've been living at the intersection of regret and growth, and I know where I want to go next. It’s time to move along.

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*I think this is an even bigger problem for veterans, who not only leave careers that are fulfilling, but no longer find themselves putting their lives on the line every day. It's a complicated headspace to occupy. This is just a plea to look twice at a veteran who you think doesn’t meet your job requirements.