This week, I stepped into a brand new role. It’s been a long and exhausting week — I haven’t had to learn something from scratch in a long time, and it’s crazy how drained you can feel just from stretching your mind in new ways. I guess the brain is a muscle though — the only way it gets stronger is through challenge, and sometimes that means it gets tired.
Many will see your wins, your progress, your social posts — but they rarely stop to think about what it may have taken to get there. What you may have needed to sacrifice. Or what you had to endure. And let me tell you: it took me a very long time to secure this role. The weight of what I went through to receive this opportunity hasn’t even fully lifted — and I’m not sure when it will just yet.
Let me cook.
The Ache of ‘Almost’
Almost two years of job applications and interviews. I won’t say how many roles I applied for — I didn’t make a tracker — but trust me, it was A LOT. If I had to take an educated guess? Easily way over 100. I lost count of the rejection emails that said there were “other candidates more suited to the role.” That’s a lie. You didn’t even look at my application, asshole.
And don’t even get me started on the actual interviews. Over those almost two years, I think I went through about ten full processes and made it to the final stage in maybe seven of them — only to be passed over each time. Every single one of them had nothing useful to say when it came to feedback either. Their responses went a little something like this:
“We’ve decided to no longer hire for this role as the business needs have changed.”
“Everyone absolutely loved you, but we’ve decided to hire internally instead.”
And the worst one: “There’s nothing more you could have done. We’ve just decided to go in a different direction.”
Brudda? It was a lot.
There was one company in particular, that really took the piss. A couple of months after rejecting me at the final stage, they reached out again to say the role was reopening — and because they’d been so impressed last time, they wanted to bring me back in for one more chat. Despite still holding a slight grudge against them, I said yes, thinking maybe the universe has offered me another opportunity and this time — it’ll align. So I showed up, did the dance, as you do. I mean, I’d done so many of these interviews by this point… it was rinse and repeat. Only to be rejected again. Their reason?
“There’s nothing you could have done differently and you were amazing. The business just needs a different set of skills for now.”
You what?! You approached me. Twice.
Guys. I have stories for days. There was another role where I was dropped right after the hiring manager stage because in the end, they had decided to hire internally. Don’t actually piss me off. You knew that would be the case before you wasted my time. They even proceeded to tell me I was “very well-spoken” and that they’d love to keep in touch. Well-spoken? As opposed to what, pray tell? That comment told me everything I needed to know. Your “feedback” is laced in racism and you don’t even know it.
I’ve always been known as the person who just “gets on with it”. And to the outside world, it probably looked like I was doing just that. But inside, the whole experience was tearing away at not only my self-esteem, but my sense of worth too. I felt like a failure. Somehow, despite all the years I’d worked and all the skills I’d developed, I still wasn’t good enough.
Summer 2024, I finally broke.
And I remember exactly where I was — sitting around the table at my local coffee spot with my parents and my sister. I cried. For all to see. I was down bad, chile! At that point, I felt like the system had chewed me up, spat me out and stepped on the remnants for good measure.
How could it be that I’d done everything “right” but I couldn’t catch a break? I went to university, like they said we should. I even went again and got another degree. I’d built over a decade of experience. According to society’s success criteria I’d ticked every box — and then some. But somehow, I still wasn’t the pick.
The Burden of Proving Worth
There was so much in those tears I cried. It wasn’t just about rejection — it was about everything we’ve had to carry. I wasn’t just crying for myself, but also for every other Black woman who knows what it is to be overlooked, erased, made invisible — despite being the most educated group in society.
And I’m not even pulling that shit from my ass. It’s a fact. Here’s some footnotes for your asses:
In the UK, data from the Department for Education shows Black women are more likely than white women to pursue higher education.
In the U.S., Black women have been enrolling in college at higher rates than any other racial or gender group for years. (National Center for Education Statistics; also cited in Forbes and Pew Research.)
And if you’re locked into #JobTok, it’ll be staring you in the face: brilliant, experienced Black women sharing how they’ve been unemployed for months, despite ticking every box. The talent is undeniable. But just like what I experienced — the rejections are relentless. We go above and beyond because unfortunately we have to. Because the obstacles are doubled: Black and woman.
Even before we speak, we’re already the most prepared in the room. But still… we over-prepare, we over-perform, until we’re blue in the face. Because society continues to tell us “You need to do more.” Imagine? These companies have us taking on extra labour before they’ve even hired us. The gall. It doesn’t matter how hard we work, how much we upskill, how many positions we have on our CV, or how many frameworks we master. As soon as they see us — the bias kicks in. Even before, when we’re completing those hiring DEI surveys (which we should just stop doing now, by the way.) None of this is because we’re not enough. It’s because we absolutely are.
That quote from Coach Carter comes to mind here. But in this case, I’d amend it and say:
Our Their deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.Our Their deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
That’s really the tea. And it’s piping.
The Surrender
By autumn 2024, I’d royally had enough. I made the decision to stop applying for jobs altogether. That old saying — “the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results” — was ringing way too true at this point. I couldn’t keep doing this. I was drained. I was spent. And it was enough.
Something shifted in me during this time. Instead of thinking I wasn’t good enough, I started to consider that maybe… God just had something else in mind for me. Something better… something that was just for me. Maybe those missed opportunities weren’t failures after all — maybe they were His way of protecting me. I don’t even know what sparked that mindset shift, if I’m honest. It could’ve been conversations with loved ones, journaling my way into clarity, or maybe just the creative space I was giving myself — but eventually, the message came through loud and clear:
Lydz, you don’t need to be worrying about these jobs right now. You’ve got other work to do. The right opportunity is coming, and it will not pass you by.
So I listened.
I started putting my writing, my health, my wellbeing, my creativity first. They became my new priority. The job would come, eventually — but this is what I needed to do to protect my peace. As I redirected my energy, things began to click. I started getting clear on what I actually wanted — the shape of my future career, outside of the 9–5. What a future without a 9-5 might look like for me. Through the quiet, I began to map out a plan for future me; and it’s the plan I’m now walking towards.
And then, funnily enough, the moment I stopped obsessing — the job came. And this time, they approached me. No chasing. No endless interview rounds. Just a smooth, straightforward process. And the role? Completely aligned with where I’m heading and who future me is trying to be. I’m not a religious person, but I absolutely know when God is having a hand in my life. And you see God, yeah? He knows exactly what He’s doing.
A message from me to you…
I could have just gone ahead, started this job and said nothing about what it took to get here. But I think I would not only be doing myself a disservice by not acknowledging the journey, but also all the other women who look like me that need to hear that they are not alone.
So this is for the Black women who have followed the rulebook and done everything “right” — but have still found themselves overlooked. For the ones who’ve been told they’re amazing, but are never quite “the one.” For those who know the pain of “almost”, despite them being utterly complete. This Sunday’s post is a reminder that you don’t need to prove yourself to a system that was never built with us in mind. We’re not doing that anymore. You are already enough, and you always have been enough.
I want you to prioritise pouring into yourself first and foremost — whether it be your peace, your creativity, your joy, and your right to rest. Whatever is meant for you will come in time and when it does, you’ll be ready — because you always were. And remember: what’s meant for you will not pass you by.
To all of you who made it to the end of this post, I have a question for you. Now we’re stopping the proving ourselves shit… what will finally choosing yourself look like?
And of course, you know I had to pair this post with the perfect song. This week, it’s Bag Lady - Erykah Badu. Because when the load gets too heavy — you have to know when to let it go.
Wow! This resonated so deeply. I am fully in my 'Be still' era and reading your post has been so affirming. Thank you.
Whew! Thank you for the reworking of that quote. We are fearsome, but unfortunately, not fearless in many cases.