• Kate Collins has worked on an all-female nonprofit team since starting a new job in 2024.
• In the past, she's worked in male-dominated media workplaces with rigid, then lenient, boundaries.
• Collins says that an all-female team brings both a supportive culture and blurred work-life lines.

When I walked into work last year on my birthday, there was an envelope with my name written in cursive on my desk. I was less than three months into a new job and hadn't announced my birthday. Being an introvert, a slight discomfort rose as I opened the envelope.

The discomfort dissipated as I read the personalized messages written by my colleagues. I was grateful for the simple gesture; this was the first time I received a birthday card at work. A few months later, I returned from my honeymoon to find another thoughtful card and a wedding-decorated desk.

My colleagues' acknowledgment of these milestones is proof that after a midlife pivot, I've landed somewhere good. The all-female leadership and team where I work prioritize the organization's mission by fostering a kind, encouraging atmosphere for clients and employees.

While I see the perks, I've also experienced some downsides to an all-female workplace.

I started my career in offices with boundaries

I entered the workforce during an era when professionalism stressed a clear delineation between work and personal lives. In the offices of the media companies where I worked as a photojournalist and reporter, employees refrained from divulging details of their outside lives. I welcomed these boundaries.

By the mid-2010s, successive rounds of layoffs in my industry resulted in a less diverse workplace. Management became mostly men who I remember using sports analogies, mansplaining, and all-caps emails — controlling tactics that diminished my sense of worth.

A decade later, bias issues forced the last media company I worked for to adopt policies stressing safe, inclusive workplaces. The personal became political, and the movement to normalize almost everything took hold. Before long, a workplace culture emerged where revealing intimate personal information was commonplace.

Yet there still wasn't a shift away from the male-dominated culture. Many of my female colleagues who survived layoffs exited the industry. Before long, I was planning my own exit strategy.

It was difficult to separate myself from a profession I once loved

For a few years, I worked on reinventing myself by expanding my skill set through classes and freelance work. I was eventually offered an environmental communications position. While the job didn't last, it launched me into the nonprofit sector.

I live in a region with many nonprofits. The local nonprofits I'm most familiar with are primarily led and staffed by smart women passionate about helping others. This isn't surprising, as studies concerning the differences in personality traits have found that women are more nurturing, tender-minded, and altruistic more often and to a greater extent than men — traits necessary to do lower-paid, sometimes emotionally taxing work.

When I started nonprofit work, I felt acknowledged and supported

I started my current communications manager position in early 2024. Since transitioning to nonprofit work, I've experienced how an all-female team can promote a kinder, more collaborative workplace. Have an idea for something not in your job title? Share it. Need help with a project? There are always offers to assist, even for projects requiring time outside normal schedules.

There's also the celebration of achievements. Our leader frequently shares our team and individual accomplishments publicly. She gifted us with bright yellow smiley face bells to ring when we complete a difficult project. After years without recognition of my professional achievements, it feels good to have my contributions acknowledged.

The professional respect ingrained in our office culture extends beyond job tasks. If we come in late or leave early for an appointment or emergency, we can do so without advance approval. Leadership even encourages us to take personal days when we're feeling stressed.

This kind, empathic leadership style trickles down. Recently one of my coworkers was out for a few days with the flu. Knowing she lives alone, we reached out with "get well soon" texts and offered to pick up her prescription and deliver it to her home.

There are also challenges

While working in an all-female office has been a positive change, certain aspects can be trying. There's inherent pressure to participate in optional group activities such as weekly team lunches and afternoon walks, which can be stressful for someone who cherishes alone time like me.

Recently, a mandatory retreat escalated into a cold plunge. Voiced statements about not liking cold water were countered with emails about "team building." Days before, a colleague said that she couldn't partake due to a medical issue.

In the end, a few of us watched the cold plunge through the window of a warm house. I was already nervous about an overnight cabin retreat. I wasn't fond of the planned kayaking and swimming, but I also didn't want to hurt the feelings of my colleagues planning it.

The blurring of lines between work and play can also result in unexpected workplace tension. When a new colleague joined our team recently, she misinterpreted the relaxed atmosphere as "any topic goes." While I appreciate an informal office, some of the topics she discussed made me uncomfortable. I eventually spoke up about my new colleague's crudeness, and the issue was addressed.

I question whether the easing of professional manners has veered too far off-track

I wonder if a single-sex environment contributes to this. I wonder if my colleague would've acted differently around male colleagues and if a male would've been terminated for similar behavior around female coworkers.

I'm not looking to leave my job. If I ever return to a workplace with both men and women, I'll bring what I'm learning about collaboration, kindness, and celebrating achievements with me.

Kate Collins is a writer and nonprofit communications professional. She lives in Ithaca, New York, with her husband, stepson, and two foster dogs.

• Keith Anderson secured a role at Meta in 2018 after beating 2,000 other candidates.
• He applied after feeling drained in his previous Big Tech roles at YouTube and Google.
• Anderson used a five-part strategy, including a 'value project,' to stand out and get the offer.

When Keith Anderson, 36, came across a job posting at Meta (then Facebook) while scrolling LinkedIn in 2018, he was feeling completely drained.

He was in his third Big Tech role — working as a program manager at YouTube — after spending two years at Google and two years at Uber since breaking into the industry with no tech experience in 2015.

"I'd hit a wall," Anderson, who now runs Career Alchemy, told Business Insider. "I was physically exhausted and emotionally depleted."

A few months later, he beat out 2,000 candidates for the Meta role.

He wanted a dramatic career shift

Anderson wanted something new and resonated with Meta's mission, so he applied for the role on the global education team.

After three months of silence, he was invited to an in-person finalist event at the company's headquarters. The hiring manager at Meta told him he'd been selected as one of 300 top candidates from 2,000 applicants.

He said that email alone felt like a win, but it was short-lived when he realized the stiff competition he'd need to one-up to actually land the job. He decided he'd try something different to stand out from the crowd.

Here's the five-part strategy that Anderson used to ultimately win the job offer from Meta.

1. Using curiosity and connection points to overcome imposter syndrome

When Anderson first arrived at the event, his excitement turned to anxiety. As an employee who came from a background in teaching, imposter syndrome started to grip him.

"I reminded myself that curiosity is more powerful than self-doubt," Anderson said. "Instead of trying to impress anyone, I approached team leaders and engaged them in meaningful, peer-level conversations."

Anderson said the event started with 30 to 45 minutes of networking. Next, five team leaders presented on the state of the team, explaining their goals. The team leaders then spread out around the room to talk to candidates.

"There were like 15 to 20 folks swarming around each of them, awkwardly trying to get their chance to ask a question," Anderson said.

Anderson worked the room, saying things like, "I just learned about the project your team's been working on, and I'm impressed by what you've achieved! My team's facing a similar challenge, and I'm curious: how has your team approached that balance?"

He said the goal wasn't to deliver a pitch but instead create a conversation rooted in genuine interest and shared experience.

2. Following up with a warm, non-pushy message

Anderson initially didn't get a callback, so he sent a warm, friendly voice note to the recruiter.

"I thanked her for inviting me and reflected on how humbling it was to be in a room with such incredible talent," he said. "I mentioned my conversation with one of the team members and even included a helpful tool we used on my current team at the time, asking her to pass it along." Anderson believes that the most important part of his message wasn't what he offered — it was how he framed it.

"I told the recruiter, 'I know your plate is full juggling candidates for multiple roles and navigating the needs of different hiring managers. If this role doesn't work out, no worries. I just wanted to say thank you,'" Anderson said.

Within 48 hours, the recruiter called Anderson back to schedule a formal screening for the role.

3. Turning the screening into a strategy session

Anderson viewed the phone screening as an opportunity to gather intelligence about both the company and role.

"I wanted to understand the team's internal goals and pain points before I ever stepped into a formal interview loop," Anderson said. He asked questions like "What are the top priorities for this team over the next quarter?" and "How does this role contribute to those broader goals?"

The recruiter provided valuable insight into the team's dynamics and signaled that he understood how to contribute at a high level.

4. Building a 'value project' to show understanding of team pain points

After the phone screening, Anderson sent a warm follow-up email that led to an invitation to speak with the hiring manager. To prepare, he created a four-slide 'value project,' — a mini case study based on a challenge faced by the team he was trying to join.

"I gathered intel on the main pain points the team was facing," Anderson said. "From those, I took the one that seemed the most pressing and created a simple project from that."

Anderson's value project included:

• A short overview of what he understood about the team's current structure
• A breakdown of one key challenge, informed by conversations with the recruiter and event contacts
• Examples of how other companies were solving similar problems
• His personal experience addressing this kind of challenge
• A few practical, creative solutions tailored to Meta's ecosystem

Anderson invited the hiring manager and others who interviewed him into a conversation to discuss it.

"I framed it with, 'I'd love to get your thoughts on this,'" he said. "Suddenly, I wasn't just a candidate answering questions. I was a collaborator helping solve problems."

5. Making yourself easy to remember

The recruiter sent Anderson an email with the names of the people he was going to meet with. Anderson sent brief, friendly email introductions to each of his future interviewers, expressing his excitement about speaking with them.

During the actual interviews, Anderson made a personal connection with the hiring team. "At the start of each call, I asked, 'What's been the highlight of your day so far?' he said. "It's warm, it's disarming, and it instantly transforms the tone of the conversation."

About five months after applying, Anderson received a job offer from Meta for an instructional designer role — his entry position that he later parlayed into a management role as head of learning, global agencies, over his three years at Meta.

Anderson's manager told him something he'll never forget

"After I started, my manager told me, 'If you hadn't accepted, we would've restarted the entire hiring process — no one else came close,'" Anderson said. "That kind of validation reminded me that thoughtful risk-taking really does pay off."

Anderson said that this hiring experience taught him you don't have to follow the traditional script to be taken seriously in Big Tech.

"Throughout every step of the process, I anchored my message: I'm someone who notices problems early and works toward clear, communicative, creative solutions," he said. "My goal was always to show, not tell, who I was through every interaction."

• Todd Sheridan Yeary spent 13 years working at the FAA Chicago Air Route Traffic Control Center.
• He says air traffic control is a high-pressure job with unpredictable challenges and safety concerns.
• The field is facing staffing shortages, which is stressing the National Airspace System's safety.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Todd Sheridan Yeary, a pastor and former air traffic controller who left the job in 2002 and is now based in Baltimore. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I spent 13 years as an air traffic controller before pivoting my career. It's a well-paid but very stressful job.

Many dynamics can change your shift altogether. On a normal cloudy day, if a thunderstorm starts, it could get tense — you can't control the weather and must respond in real time.

There's heightened pressure when responding to constantly changing situations. If there's an aircraft incident or a midair collision — which are rare but shocking — the responsiveness needed takes hyperfocus.

Additionally, the government needs to do more than pay lip service to the needs of the National Airspace System to sustain this field.

Some controllers are adrenaline junkies — we like the pressure

I grew up in a house with two air traffic control parents, which influenced my decision to enter the field.

After passing an air traffic control civil service test and completing 10 weeks of training, I chose to work at the FAA Chicago Air Route Traffic Control Center since my stepmother was working there, and my father and I worked together in the same area for almost six years.

I enjoy busy periods, like when I lined up the planes going into O'Hare and Midway, but air traffic controllers need time to recuperate. In today's environment, some controllers work up to a mandatory six-day week with overtime, and there's little reset time available.

Pay is determined by the complexity of the facility you're assigned to. At the end of my career, my base was over six figures annually. With overtime, it's possible to make double that.

Each day has a baseline of predictability, but there's always uncertainty

The midair collision at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport in January is a complicated analysis. When these events occur, air traffic controllers must respond immediately to ensure that the incidents don't cause other incidents. You rely on your training much more when things are shifting than when things are routine.

We can't minimize the significance of these incidents, but we also can't lose sight of the reality that the National Airspace System (even with tech and staffing challenges) is still safe. We still can't take that safety for granted — there is a tipping point.

I think it's safe to fly into Newark Airport right now

The reduction of flights into Newark Liberty International Airport is partly due to concerns about equipment, but the most active runway at Newark is out of service until next month due to runway improvements.

That alone requires the number of flights to be reduced to avoid potential safety issues. Airline demand has still been growing, and companies are often resistant to cutting back on slots at major airports and airline hubs.

There have been countless stressful moments in my career

I was working on 9/11, and we had to clear the airspace over the US immediately. That meant something as simple as telling a commercial flight that may have left DC for LA that it needed to land in Moline, Illinois.

If the pilots said, "That's not on our flight plan," we might counter that it was an emergency. If they refused, we had instructions to notify our military counterpart, the National Guard fighter jets, to escort commercial planes to the ground during an unprecedented national emergency.

Some pilots initially questioned the instructions, but the available information was changing quickly. Between ATC communications and airline flight dispatchers, we kept military interdictions and escorts to a minimum.

There's a shortage of controllers and the system's safety is being stressed

The job is exciting, the controllers are dedicated, and the training is rigorous. However, much more intentional effort is needed for this field to continue to be rewarding.

There's a shortage of air traffic controllers, and others are pending retirement. If the government doesn't step in, you may see more controllers going out on disability because the system's safety is being stressed, and the controllers are being pushed beyond their limits.

I started pastoring a small church in 2001, and I decided to leave my job in air traffic control in 2002 because my congregation needed more of my attention. I moved to Baltimore in 2007 to pastor Douglas Memorial Community Church. I thought I might return one day, but the opportunity never presented itself.

Do you have a story to share about working as an air traffic controller? Contact this editor at [email protected].

• Chikara Kennedy was a senior HR manager at Meta and helped guide the company through layoffs.
• She was devastated to learn in 2023 that her role had also been affected and took a solo Bali trip.
• She became a coach and now leads retreats for women who are transforming their lives and careers.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Chikara Kennedy, the 42-year-old CEO of Chikara Power Coaching, who splits her time between Mexico and Washington, DC. Business Insider has verified Kennedy's employment with documentation and edited her words for length and clarity.

I'd been working in HR for nearly 15 years when I was hired by Facebook, now known as Meta, in 2018 as a senior HR manager.

I was working out of the Chicago office and then became a remote employee in 2020 during COVID. I moved to DC in 2022, still as a remote worker, to be closer to family while going through a divorce.

At Meta, I worked closely with leaders on things like coaching, performance management, recognition programs, morale-boosting, restructuring, and organizational development.

When the company began implementing layoffs in 2023, part of my role was helping guide the company through the process. I felt passionate about doing layoffs the right way — a way that was respectful to people.

In the end, I was shocked and devastated to learn that this very Meta layoff would impact my role, too.

Despite being a high performer, I was laid off

Growing up, we're taught that if you go to school, get good grades, and do a good job, things will turn out the way they're supposed to. As a society, we make work a big part of our identities.

I'd worked for Meta for nearly five years and was a high performer. I had received great ratings, had good relationships, and was acknowledged for exceeding expectations.

But in 2023, the company laid off 10,000 employees and withdrew 5,000 open roles it had yet to fill. I was part of a team that was very severely impacted.

Despite my intimate knowledge of the process, the experience was more challenging than I anticipated. I went through all the stages of grief. I was mad, sad, embarrassed, and in disbelief. Following my divorce, I was anxious about finances, and with so many tech companies doing layoffs, I was worried about not finding another job.

I remember there was a moment when those of us impacted were all messaging each other online and saying things like: "Who has the connections? What are the next jobs that are hiring? Let me connect you."

It was encouraging, and I was happy to be among a group of star players who were helping each other. But I had to ask myself if jumping right back into a new job was really what was best for me.

Ultimately, I decided to take a step back

I'd always been empathetic toward people experiencing layoffs, but living through one in such a tough economy helped me understand the transactional nature of employment. Things can change at any time, anywhere, and so much isn't in our control.

Although it was devastating, I also began to tune into my own voice. I wanted to honor myself and not be influenced by other people, so I decided to take a solo retreat.

I booked a trip alone to Bali from DC and went with no itinerary — just the intention to enjoy myself, enjoy the sights, and look inward to figure out what I truly wanted moving forward.

The trip felt like I was on a Black woman's version of "Eat, Pray, Love." I turned off my phone and computer, connected with strangers, and did things like breath work and meditation, just trying to get my mind and thoughts together.

These practices helped quiet the noise and fear of being laid off. It shifted the way I viewed myself and the possibilities I could see for myself.

It was like I became the main character of my own life. Before the layoff, I would often ask, "What can I do to make this organization better?" But now I began to ask: "What are my goals, my strengths? What would I love to be doing on a day-to-day basis? If I'm not reacting out of hurt, embarrassment, or the need to prove I'm good enough to land another job right away, what do I truly want to do?"

For me, the answer was founding my company, Power Coaching and Consulting.

I'm now a coach, and I plan to run retreats in the next year

Since my Meta layoff, I'm currently living between Washington, DC, and Playa del Carmen in Mexico.

I've taken on leadership roles at retreats in Croatia and South Africa and am hosting my own power retreat for the first time in January at a private retreat center in Mexico.

The retreats involve women from all professions and walks of life and include activities and sessions like guided meditation, temazcal and cacao ceremonies, astrological and tarot readings, and wellness workshops. In a beautiful setting with like-minded women, I help clients explore their goals and overcome obstacles to achieve meaningful transformation in their careers and lives.

My advice for those going through a layoff

It's normal to have feelings of grief, but it's also important to remember you're not alone. A layoff isn't a reflection of you, your performance, or your value as a person; it doesn't have to define you.

If you're going through a layoff, use it as an opportunity to figure out who you are and what you want next. The biggest challenges in our lives can lead to the biggest breakthroughs if we're willing to do the work.

Do you have a story to share about dealing with a layoff? Contact this editor, Jane Zhang, at [email protected].

• Abigayle Peterson secured multiple job and internship offers by strategically networking.
• Peterson's experiences as an adoptee and challenges in school shaped her career approach.
• She emphasizes cold outreach, attending specialized events, and being a 'go-giver.'

Being an adoptee from China didn't just impact my passion for building inclusive communities — it ignited it. My dream was battle-tested as I grew up, switching schools multiple times, dealing with bullying, and ultimately leaving college early to finish online due to my living situation.

Instead of extinguishing my spirit, these experiences crystallized into a unique superpower: I now understood how to use my voice as an agent for positive change.

I've persuaded tech executives to crown the mental health nonprofit I founded with an award, encouraged others to speak up in class, and ultimately landed multiple internships and jobs.

I'm now 23, and I've secured three internship offers at Bank of America, received offers from multiple startups, and became the first product manager at SeekOut through networking alone. I've landed eight roles in total, both temporary and permanent.

Here are my top three tips to channel your voice to maximize your networking.

1. Master cold outreach

I didn't attend a top school for computer science. Knowing I probably couldn't rely on my environment for an abundance of career opportunities, I created my own.

My first goal was to get a summer internship. I joined free online career communities, such as Rewriting the Code, to meet other ambitious students. I also emailed my favorite professors to inquire about research internships and consistently posted on LinkedIn. This extremely simple concept of asking for what you want and expressing who you are accelerated my career growth.

If you don't know where to start, first identify your top career goal and then write a message to someone who can potentially help. Crafting the ideal message requires three simple steps that I honed for years:

1. Introduce yourself as who you want to be
2. Concise is key — no busy person has time to read multiple paragraphs
3. Include a call-to-action as a question that creates a win-win situation

Many say cold outreach is a numbers game and you just get lucky. While it is a numbers game, solidifying the right approach matters, too. If you follow the three steps and reach out to people on LinkedIn, via email, and other platforms, you'll get closer and closer to your dream career opportunity.

2. Skip school career fairs and attend specialized events instead

My hot take is that most school career fairs won't truly level up your career. If you have ambitious goals, I recommend meeting actual hiring decision-makers at in-person tech events. San Francisco and NYC offer panels, fireside chats, hackathons, and mixers. You can find these events on apps like Luma or Meetup, and by following LinkedIn Top Voices.

Founders at tech companies can make invaluable introductions, invite you to join their teams as an intern, invest in your ideas, or even mentor you. I attended the free Harvard Women in Entrepreneurship fireside chat with the nonprofit Foundess and connected with multiple clients seeking career coaching.

I teach this approach because many driven students and job seekers don't try it, which means competition can be nearly nonexistent. Always try to meet the speakers, introduce yourself, and casually mention that you're looking for your next career move. I've seen multiple people succeed with this strategy and eventually land great opportunities.

3. Be a 'go-giver'

Being a go-giver is a highly underrated hack. If you want to meet decision-makers who can unlock your next career opportunity, ask to interview your role models for your newsletter, podcast, blog, or community.

By giving first, you build genuine connections, strengthen your personal brand, and gain real experience for your résumé. This strategy costs nothing but can dramatically expand both your network and your net worth.

I'm currently a founding team member at Start Your Fashion Business Academy, where we help driven women leave their 9-5s and start fashion empires. These three tips collectively advanced my career in ways I never would've imagined.

Abigayle Peterson is a former product manager and founder. Find her on LinkedIn and at [email protected].

• Ryan Frankel and his wife, Evelyn, launched Thrift Vintage Fashion in 2020.
• The business supplies secondhand clothing nationwide.
• Thrift Vintage Fashion saw a 41% revenue increase after tariffs were announced.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Ryan Frankel, a 36-year-old business owner in Miami. It has been edited for length and clarity.

My primary business is Thrift Vintage Fashion, which I launched in 2020 with my wife, Evelyn. We supply secondhand clothing — mostly men's wear, such as T-shirts, sweatshirts, and denim — to stores nationwide. When Trump took office in January, our sales took a steep decline.

Once he came into office, there was a lot of uncertainty. However, we noticed a significant incline once tariffs were announced in February. From February to March, we saw an unprecedented 41% increase in revenue (gross sales). Then we had our best March and April since we started the business.

I can't attribute our growth to anything other than the tariffs.

My family has been in this business for three generations

My grandfather began selling men's secondhand clothing after World War II. In the 90s, my father primarily sold denim and Levi's. When I started working with my father in 2010, we brought the business online and got our name out there.

After I launched Thrift Vintage Fashion, which is primarily a wholesale B2B business, it popped off right away. We did over $1 million in revenue in our first year working out of our garage during peak COVID in 2020. This was mainly due to my experience working with my father over the previous decade and improving the model and ordering efficiency through the TVF website.

Once Trump raised the tariffs, many of our clients reached out to us

Many clients — primarily secondhand clothing stores (big and small), vintage clothing stores, and online resellers — reached out to ask if the tariffs had affected our business. There was a lot of uncertainty, but we were able to confidently say, "No, we're not affected, and we're not going to raise our prices." Since then, we've just seen a slew of new orders come in, in addition to existing clients ordering a lot more.

Consumers preparing for prices to go up is another factor that has increased our secondhand sales. Everyone's talking about how fashion prices are going up, but since secondhand circulates within the US, no tariffs are affecting it at all.

It seems more people are interested in entering the reselling business

People are potentially looking into reselling more, which is positively affecting my wholesale business. We've seen steady growth across the US.

The US has been our primary market for the last three years, and we see increasing interest from new and existing resale clients. Our numbers are growing, our existing customers are doubling down on their business, and there's increasing demand in the secondhand market. I'm biased, as this is my career, but it's an excellent opportunity for shoppers and business owners to consider selling and buying secondhand goods.

There's so much of it out there: eBay, estate sales, garage sales, or storage units. A lot of secondhand merchandise is way better quality than most things produced today, and there's a growing demand for all of it. We're buying more goods and building our supply chain, prepping for growth in both wholesale and retail sectors.

The main challenges are the high costs of collecting, processing, and reselling these garments

Believe it or not, many used clothing articles cost more than many new clothing items made today. So, our company is always up against the perception of selling something used for the same price or more than new clothing. However, this perception is shifting daily, with people recognizing the value of secondhand versus cheap new fashion.

Every day, we're shedding the old stigma of secondhand shops being viewed as "less than." The fact is that the items we sell are in excellent condition. While many brands produce cheap, throwaway fast fashion, older clothes were often made more durably. Whether the clothes were made five or 15 years ago, many desirable styles have become rare by nature and hard to find, thus increasing their value.

The desire for secondhand items will probably continue

If you're already selling secondhand items, that's great; stick with it. You're probably seeing increases already, and I think it will continue. If you're not selling secondhand, especially if you're worried about tariffs, I would consider trying to implement it into your existing business.

There are so many significant factors in buying secondhand that the average American consumer slowly recognizes more each day. There are also opportunities to grow a brand reselling the billions of secondhand garments in circulation. I believe we're past the days of "thrifting" carrying a negative connotation. We're scratching the surface of what's possible with secondhand.

If you're a small-business owner with a unique story that you would like to share, please email the editor, Manseen Logan, at [email protected].

• Alex George, 29, was fired from her TV job while undergoing cancer treatment in 2018.
• Baking was George's outlet. Now, she's making a living off of it.
• George encourages those making a career pivot to take baby steps toward their new vision.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Alex George, a 29-year-old baker and content creator living in Philadelphia, about her career pivot following her Ewing's sarcoma diagnosis. It's been edited for length and clarity.

I truly loved baking from a young age. When I'd watch TV, I'd usually opt for Food Network and loved every single show. That was a big part of wanting to make — and also loving — food.

Now, I have my dream job as an almost full-time professional baker and content creator. I never thought this would be the life I'd be living.

I thought I knew what my life would look like

I went to the University of Michigan and got a degree in public policy. I figured that after a couple of years interning on the Hill, I would end up working in something tangentially political. Then I interned at a news station and thought, "Maybe I find journalism more interesting."

After graduating in 2017, I moved to Chattanooga, Tennessee, and started my career in journalism at a local Sinclair-owned station. You're working the worst shifts as a reporter, and I didn't bring any baking ingredients or many pans. Occasionally, I'd make myself a batch of cookies, but I wasn't doing it a lot. A part of my life was missing.

Baking brought me joy while I was sick

I got sick while I was in Chattanooga and was misdiagnosed a couple of times down there. I finally got to the right doctor who was able to tell me what was going on — I had Ewing's sarcoma, a rare bone cancer. I flew back home to Philadelphia, went through an egg-freezing process, and started a terrible chemo regimen.

It was a tough time. But when you don't have a lot of energy, baking is a great hobby, especially when you have a family that's willing to help you do the clean-up and all of the mise en place — the preparation.

Baking brought me joy and happiness, so I kept with it. I just baked and baked and brought it into the hospital. The nurses and doctors would eat my food.

I practiced taking photos of the food, which I shared on social media — primarily on Instagram — on an account called Cooking with Cancer. It had very few followers: Most of them were nurses, doctors, family members. I would upload a really crappy picture of a cookie, and my followers would still be very supportive.

'I think they're going to fire you'

A few days after an infusion, Sinclair representatives asked me for a meeting. My dad said, "I think they're going to fire you." I thought, surely they couldn't; I had a contract with them that technically wasn't supposed to end until two years after my initial signing date.

I couldn't fathom how it'd be possible to fire somebody on disability leave. When the HR person told me the news over the phone, I felt tears well up in my eyes, and all I remember saying out loud was, "I'm still in treatment." There was silence on the phone.

(Editor's note: George's former station, WTVC, did not respond to BI's requests for comment. A Sinclair representative did not reply to BI's questions and said the station's leadership from that time is no longer in place.)

My insurance coverage ended immediately, just a few days before I had a chemo treatment. How do you pay out of pocket for a chemotherapy session? I was thinking, "This is a death sentence."

It was devastating, but I fell back on the incredible support of my mom and dad, who helped me get COBRA coverage.

I thought trying to fight this to set some sort of legal precedent might be noble, but I just had to make sure I could live and get through my sickness, so that wasn't something I championed.

I realized baking for social media could really be something

After finishing treatment, it was almost like everything went silent. I was used to constant surveillance from nurses, and then, all of a sudden, I was done. I had a lot of time to think about what I wanted out of life.

I eventually got an offer to freelance with a news station in Philadelphia. I was still baking, and I was selling baked goods, so I changed the name of Cooking with Cancer to the name of a new LLC, Lily P. Crumbs, named after my 20-year-old dog.

I remember telling one of my friends that it would be cool to make videos of my baked goods. I was also frustrated that I didn't have a go-to chocolate chip cookie recipe. I'd made some random TikToks before that, but I remember uploading the first video of my search for the best recipe and seeing it get tens of thousands of views.

After that, I started showing some of my other baked goods and experienced growth along with that. I was finally getting partnership opportunities — and I was having fun. As a risk-averse person, I still freelance in news, but sharing my baking is my priority.

As a cancer survivor, the future is exciting

I'll never say I'm thankful for cancer, but it did open my eyes to how damn short life is and how little time you have to do exactly what you want to be doing. I'd rather be living this life than the life I was probably going to choose before my diagnosis.

The best part about being a cancer survivor is that the future, in general, is so exciting. If someone is questioning their career or their future, I say, do what you want. Create an idea of where you would like your life to be, and just take a baby step toward it.

• Arran Skinner lost his job as a multimedia and press relations expert in 2023.
• Since then, he hasn't been able to find new full-time work and has struggled with his identity.
• As a current gig worker, he's still looking for full-time employment and figuring out his next step.

A recent piece in The New York Times has been making the rounds among my friends. It outlines the struggles Gen Xers working in the creative fields face in the job market and how, in the past few years, they've found that their skills are less valuable.

"I'm 53," writes one commenter on Reddit, "and I already pivoted from one career to the next, and now that's looking dicey. I have a little kid. I'm soiling my pants."

I can relate. It's been just over two years since I opened my email and read that I'd been let go from my 20-plus-year career as a multimedia and press relations expert in the humanitarian field.

I still haven't found new full-time work.

I watched my dad go through this as a kid

I remember when my dad lost his job in the 1980s. He went from owning his own business to moving us out of our fashionable North London neighborhood to a semi-detached in a much different part of town.

My parents gently shifted our lives in a new direction, and they did a pretty good job. We each had to adjust to our new situation. My dad, with bills to pay, had to adjust most of all.

As he looked for another profession, I wondered whether he felt his confidence under attack with each failed interview. Did he look in the mirror and wonder who he was?

I know I feel the impact

Losing a job can significantly change your identity, especially if your job informs your sense of self, status, and purpose. Grief and anxiety can aggravate an identity crisis.

My loss of income heralded substantial challenges for my family, from struggling to find the tuition for my son's special needs school to the inevitable toll on my marriage. Not a day went by when I didn't question my self-worth or feel like a weight dragging my family down.

I spiraled into heavy substance abuse, and on my worst days, I even considered ending it all, my lack of nerve the only thing keeping me sane.

I loved the work I had been doing

My profession certainly informed who I was. In my mid-30s, I was a digital content creator and comms expert at a small nongovernmental organization advising marginalized groups and democratic governments. I worked with Saharawi refugees, Syrian opposition members, and other populations fighting against regimes and oppressive governments that restricted their freedoms.

By 2019, the waves from President Donald Trump's first term were hitting smaller NGOs pretty hard. I jumped to an international humanitarian organization.

When I lost that job in 2023, it took me more than a minute to realize what had happened.

I found interviewing difficult and settled on gig work

At first, I interviewed for positions similar to the work I'd done. My impostor syndrome kicked in, and while I attempted to shift gears to something like PR or media, this time, it felt like the entire ground beneath me was shifting. I picked up a few comms gigs, but the money wasn't reliable.

Eventually, I found work designing book covers and then doing project management for a small boutique publishing company in Los Angeles.

In my previous career, I made six figures. Now, I'm making $25 an hour, plus any commissions I can secure. The financial hit meant we had to seriously scale back our expenses while trying not to let our fiscal situation affect our two small children.

There's nothing like trying to smile, joke, and answer the demands of a chatty 5-year-old while the bills are mounting and you're just trying to keep your head together.

I know I'm not the only one in this situation

There are a lot of Americans in the same boat. The pressure at times of trying to stay afloat while protecting your kids from the realities you and your partner are facing is pretty heavy, and I'm lucky that I have my wife. This isn't her first rodeo.

She's been a freelancer, chasing checks and making those dollars stretch for more than 20 years. When adversity strikes, she relishes the bite.

My wife has taken on more teaching jobs, pitched more articles, and applied for grants, and I know it has taken a toll on her mental health and, ultimately, her feelings toward her partner. For me, shifting from a full-time salary to gig work has taken me a minute to find myself.

I'm working on rewriting my identity

As I stood up at the end of a session recently, my therapist said to me: "You don't know your core personality. Other people are different. They know in their core who they are. 'I know I am a good father!' they say to themselves. You don't know in your core that you are a good father."

The conclusion made me sway as the words slowly sank in. "I don't know what's at my core!" And it's no wonder. In the West, the first question we ask when we meet someone new is "What do you do?"

For today, I have no answer.

I remain optimistic

I'm still hopeful I can find work similar to my past career. Friends still send job descriptions, and I still browse job boards, but I'm also cognizant that my field has changed considerably. I'm realizing it's time to shapeshift for my next chapter, whatever that may be.

For the past two years, every time I've looked in the mirror, the face staring back at me has been one of disappointment. I'm trying to change that and give that guy in the mirror a break.

I think back to my father and have a new appreciation not for what he did for work but for how he showed up for his family in those times of tensity.

Do you have a story to share about job loss? Contact this editor at [email protected].

• Jamey Stegmaier's business, Stonemaier Games, is facing rising tariffs on its China-made board games.
• The tariffs are affecting his costs and potential profitability, which could put him out of business.
• A temporary truce may reduce tariffs, but uncertainty affects his future production plans.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Jamey Stegmaier, the 44-year-old cofounder, lead designer, and president of Stonemaier Games based in St Louis, Missouri. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

Like everyone else, we found out about the latest tariffs on television.

My company, Stonemaier Games, pays tariffs to the US government for the games we manufacture in China and import to the US. I thought we could work with it when the 20% tariff was applied in March, but then the last month happened, and that changed everything.

We learned we would be hit with an initial 34% tariff on top of an existing 20% one. Then it kept rising to 145%. I was surprised not just by the initial jump but by how much it continued to increase day by day.

American companies, including us, could lose a lot of money or go out of business within a few months.

We work with a Chinese company called Panda Game Manufacturing

I started Stonemaier Games 13 years ago, launching my first title, Viticulture, on Kickstarter while it was still just a hobby. Since then, my team of eight US-based employees has published 20 different modern strategy games, including Wingspan, our best-known title.

My team focuses on the entire creative and commercial process: We design games, handle logistics, and take care of sales and marketing — everything except actual manufacturing.

That happens in China, with Panda. China has entire industries built around custom game components, such as wooden tokens, custom dice, and specialty molds. The US doesn't, and those components are expensive to make here.

Once games are made, about 65% are shipped to the US, and the rest largely go to Europe, Canada, and Australia.

We're the ones paying the tariffs — not China or our customers

We had already started a large print run of 250,000 games before the tariffs were introduced, none of which have sold to customers yet. Some are earmarked for distributors, but distributors pay us after goods are delivered. That's part of what made this so difficult — we'd already invested heavily.

So far, we've only paid around $5,000 in tariffs on a small shipment that left China in early February, right when the initial 20% tariff hit.

If we passed along the full 145% tariff to customers, a popular game like Wingspan, which sells for $65, would suddenly cost close to $200. No one would buy it.

This week, we're starting to ship out that big 250,000-unit run, which will take about three weeks. If things go poorly, we could be hit with 145% tariffs when those goods arrive in June. We'll take the current shipments and cover the freight costs, but I'm already thinking about the holiday print run.

If the temporary truce holds — which slashes China's tariffs on the US from 125% to 10% and the US's tariffs on China from 145% to 30% — we'll "only" pay 30%. That's still painful, but manageable compared to the alternative.

We've been trying to stall by seeing how long we can delay shipments, hold them in China, or temporarily route them through Canada. There's no loophole — tariffs are based on the country of origin, not where the goods enter. Even if we store something in Canada, we still pay when it crosses into the US.

Most of our customers have been supportive

People are particularly sympathetic to how these changes are affecting small businesses. I've been outspoken in the media and joined a lawsuit against the tariffs with a dozen other companies.

Some customers who support the president have taken issue with things I've said, like how I will not stand idly while my livelihood and thousands of other small business owners' livelihoods are treated like pawns in a political game.

On the various blog posts I've written, especially the "We're Suing the President" post, there were a number of inflammatory comments, including some saying that they'll never buy another Stonemaier game again. It's been surprising to me to see such a wide range of reactions.

Right now, we're just trying to move forward

I've looked into onshoring our manufacturing. We do sell most of our games in the US, so on paper it makes sense, but the US just doesn't have the infrastructure or expertise for this kind of manufacturing at scale.

The creative question I've been asking myself is: Could we design games around what we can manufacture in the US? That's interesting from a design perspective — but also creatively limiting.

The 90-day truce period on tariffs ends in August. There's still so much uncertainty, which will likely lead to a more modest holiday run than usual.

I'd like to see Congress step up

I want to see Congress take ownership of the process. I'd also ask for a grace period for businesses like mine, which made decisions before the tariffs were announced. That would show good faith.

If the tariffs don't get pulled back, people will have significantly less money to spend on things that bring them joy, like games. Any publisher without cash reserves is in trouble, especially if they have games in production in China. I think local retailers will suffer the most.

There's no math that makes it work. There's no silver lining. It's a lose-lose-lose situation for everyone involved.

The White House did not respond to a request for comment.

• Amazon hired 27-year-old Jenny Cho right out of college.
• Cho said she instantly became a high achiever and completely burned out after five years.
• After taking a mental health leave, she switched her focus to trade-offs instead of balance.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Jenn Cho, a 27-year-old Amazon software developer in Seattle. It's been edited for length and clarity.

I got hired at Amazon directly out of college in 2019 and made work my life and identity.

I put so much pressure on myself to be a high achiever and to prove I was a valuable employee in my early career. By the end of 2024, I had completely burned out.

I took a 12-week leave to focus on my mental health and realized my job wasn't the issue, it was my mindset. Here's how I identified my burnout and how I'm trying to prevent it from happening again.

Everything was great for me until a stressful project in 2024

When I got hired as a support engineer, my job was really exciting. We moved quickly, and I felt like a sponge, absorbing everything, and craving to learn more.

Then, in 2024, Amazon entered a very stressful layoff season, which greatly affected my team. Our organization underwent a lot of restructuring and reprioritization of our projects.

I started working on a particularly difficult project and really put pressure on myself to be on point at all times. But in the pursuit of doubling down on work and working longer hours, I started lacking motivation, struggling with focus, and feeling emotionally exhausted. I was able to keep up with deadlines, but I felt like I was in survival mode.

When I stopped enjoying my hobbies, I realized I was burned out

The wake-up call that something needed to change didn't come until I realized I wasn't even enjoying the things I love to do — working out, spending time with friends, pursuing hobbies. I knew I was burned out.

A friend of mine who had recently burned out and taken a leave, encouraged me to take my own leave. After sitting on the idea for a while, I submitted a request with the support of my therapist, and I was approved for a 12-week leave at the end of 2024.

Taking a break from work and building something for myself was fulfilling

At the start of my leave, I broke out in full-body hives, which I suspect might've been stress-induced. After nearly six weeks of treating my health issues, I finally settled into my leave.

I explored Seattle more, got back into my workout routine, and even started working on some personal projects like a food blog site. It was so fulfilling to build something for myself. I considered taking a sabbatical or a more extended leave, but ultimately decided to stick with my 12-week plan.

I realized the biggest thing that needed to change when I was to return to Amazon was my mindset. Finding fulfillment through my hobbies made me realize that work shouldn't be my life; it should fuel my ability to live my life and pursue my passions.

When I got back from my leave, it felt like nothing had changed, and I needed to set boundaries

I was concerned about taking a leave, but I don't think it hindered my career at all.

After returning to work, I realized that I was just one of thousands of employees. The company doesn't stop just because one person leaves. As workers, we tend to prioritize work, but our employers prioritize profits, so it's up to us to create boundaries between work and life.

I'm trying to embody my new mindset by setting boundaries. For example, working out is crucial for my mental health, so I've set a boundary that I will not cancel a workout class to keep working. It's a hard stop.

I've also been writing down my to-do lists for the day, but not just making them centered on work. Sure, my work will be at the top of the list, but I've also been writing down the personal things I'm looking forward to doing after work, like getting dinner, seeing friends, or working on the food blog.

I'm focusing on trade-offs instead of a balance

On a day-to-day basis, it feels nearly impossible to find a balance between work and life. I have so many things I want to do, but not enough hours in the day. So, I'm looking at the bigger picture instead.

There will be periods when work is very busy and demanding, and I have no choice but to put my effort into it. But I have to remind myself that life shouldn't be like that 24/7.

Maybe I'm focusing on work in one moment, but later, I can take time off to prioritize something for myself. I'm still learning to strike the right balance, but it's up to me to make sure I nurture my identity outside of work.

If you burned out at work and want to share your story, please email the editor, Manseen Logan, at [email protected].

• Jenny Jing Zhu came to the US as a 26-year-old who spoke very little English.
• Zhu started Lush Decor, a home design company, amid the economic troubles of 2008.
• The company managed to survive the downturn, which Zhu said made her more resilient.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Jenny Jing Zhu, 51, New Jersey-based founder and CEO of Lush Decor, a digital home decor company. She shared with Business Insider the challenges of starting a business in an uncertain time and how she overcame it. BI has verfied her company information.

When I started Lush Decor in 2008, I was quietly going through the toughest time in my life.

The economy was collapsing. I was on the brink of divorce. I was learning how to be a parent to my then-1-year-old son. And I was an immigrant in New York still speaking broken English.

But I had already survived a lot of hard things in my life and I think those experiences eventually helped me succeed in business.

I grew up in a tiny, rural village in China. I didn't have electricity until I was in second grade. I was the only girl in my village who went to high school.

In my last year of school, I read a story about a young woman with a similar background to mine who left her village for the big city in China to become a factory worker. She later started her own business.

That moment changed my life. She unknowingly gave me permission to dream.

So, I left my village and went to Beijing. I started as a hotel maid, and later ran a small dry cleaning business.

I immigrated to the US when I was 26.

I didn't speak much English at the time. My ex-husband wanted to come to the country for law school. I didn't really have a choice. I remember when I first got here, I turned on the TV and I felt like I was on Mars.

During that time, as I was learning English, I became inspired by Asian fashion designer Vera Wang. I applied to the Fashion Institute of Technology's fashion design program, but the major was very competitive. The school told me to wait another year and apply again. But I was 28 and I didn't feel like I had another year to wait.

So, I ended up applying to and being accepted to the home fashion and home textile surfaces major.

Growing up in my village, we planted and picked cotton and my grandma would put it into yarn on her big, wooden loom. We would bring the fabric to the market, and that's what inspired my love for textiles.

After I graduated, I worked at a home fashion company for four years. But I always had that entrepreneurial dream, so after learning the business, I felt like I could do better. I saw a blank space in the market for beautiful and stylish designs that were also accessible and affordable.

I started Lush Decor in 2008.

When I started the company, there were just a couple of people working with me. My job was focused mostly on design and product development.

I was working 24 hours a day at that time. I would design during the day and talk to the manufacturers at night because we had a 12-hour time difference.

But in 2008 and 2009, all the big box retailers started freezing their buying because of the financial crisis. They didn't want to take any chances on new vendors.

At the time, e-commerce was still new in the home fashion space. Everyone told me that I couldn't ship comforters or bedding to one customer at a time. They said it would be too expensive and people wouldn't buy our products.

But I really had no choice, because I couldn't do traditional business deals given the economic challenges and my own limited business relationships.

We had this very small warehouse behind our office and at the end of each day, I would go slap UPS and FedEx labels on the boxes one-by-one in my high heels. Not very many people were doing it that way in those days. There was no road map. I just learned on the job.

Our designs were unique in a boring market. Our first collection was inspired by Vera Wang wedding dresses. The bedding had hundreds of little bows on it and it sold out. I also used unique fabrics. I went back to China once and found crocodile skin. I put it on a bag and we sold so many of them.

We differentiated ourselves with unique designs, and that put us ahead in the e-commerce business. Very quickly, we became the major brand on the e-commerce market, selling millions of products to customers.

It was scary starting a business in that economic environment.

I knew that only a small percentage of businesses survive the first three years. I felt so much pressure in those early days because I was all on my own.

I had no built-in customer base when I started. No mentor or support community around me. I had no safety net to fall back on. I had such bad imposter syndrome.

I didn't have an MBA or finance background but I'm very good at numbers. When I met with investors, I told them, I'm not only interested in designing beautiful products; I also design beautiful margins.

All I had was passion and persistence, and that helped me build resilience along the way.

At every point in my life — whether it was growing up in the village or being a hotel maid or nanny — I always found the creativity to make it work. I think that's in the DNA of entrepreneurs.

I was scared to death, too, but you have to take that first step.

We first saw a profit in 2012.

I still remember seeing that number going up and up. I just thought "Oh my god, that's the right direction!"

In 2018, I partially sold to private equity. I stayed on as CEO for another three years and then as a board member. In 2021, the company surpassed more than $100 million in revenue for the first time.

The new management, however, didn't end up working out, so I stepped back into the company fully last year.

The recent tariffs have hit a lot of businesses like ours really hard. Trying to start a business at a time like this is even harder. The 2008 economic crisis was like 1.0; the pandemic was 2.0, and these current times are like 3.0.

We source overseas, and this has definitely reminded entrepreneurs that we need to diversify our supply chains. But even so, there's not a lot you can do to diversify overnight. A lot of things that come from China, other countries can't do as efficiently. The tariffs are not just raising the prices; they're threatening an already fragile supply chain.

A lot of the business community is in really difficult situations right now. Times like these can force businesses to do something that they're likely lagging to do, which is diversifying their supply chains. Yes, it's very overwhelming, but you're not alone. We're all in the same boat.

Entrepreneurs need to understand and accept what they can and can't control. Don't panic. Don't be angry, even though we are angry. Rely on your community, rely on your resources. Every time you go through things that could break you, you are building more resilience and confidence.

• Selma Mouloudj faced layoffs at Meta and a sales startup before landing a job at Salesforce.
• She navigated the competitive market in between by attending networking events and using LinkedIn.
• Mouloudj's six strategies for standing out in Big Tech also include negotiating every offer.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Selma Mouloudj, an account executive at Salesforce in Dublin. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I received a project management job offer from Meta in 2021 while I was living in London. I relocated to Dublin to accept the position in February 2022.

In 2023, I was affected by the global layoffs and lost my job. I had to start over. Even after just a short time at Meta, I had difficulty imagining working elsewhere.

I knew I needed to find work

After trying to run my own e-learning business for six months, I realized the corporate world was more for me, so I started my job search again.

This led me to a sales startup in Ireland, but again, I was affected by another layoff. I was in that same position, uncertain about what to do next.

I remember thinking, If I'm going to be laid off again, it should at least be at a Big Tech company because then I'll be offered a package.

Through these layoffs, I realized how difficult the job market was and how competitive things can become when budget cuts occur. Everyone is competing for the same roles, which means you really need to find ways to stand out.

I landed at Salesforce after interviewing around Big Tech

I interviewed at Google, LinkedIn, TikTok, and Pinterest before ultimately landing my current job at Salesforce.

The layoffs taught me a lot, but landing jobs at Meta and Salesforce and interviewing at some of the biggest tech companies in the world also gave me valuable insight.

If you want to stand out in Big Tech I recommend these six things.

1. Quantify your résumé

One of the biggest ways to make your résumé stand out in Big Tech is by using quantifiable metrics.

Instead of simply listing responsibilities, highlight your impact with data: "I drove growth by 40% in this region" or "I worked on the French market and achieved 115% of my quota."

Always quantify and measure your success, and then showcase it. Big Tech companies prioritize numbers and data. If your résumé lacks measurable results, they'll move on to the next candidate.

2. Attend networking events

One of the most important lessons I learned when job hunting in Big Tech was how valuable networking is.

Most of the interviews I've landed have come from networking events, including my job at Salesforce. When I interviewed at Google, I got the interview because of a friend I made at a networking event, and when I interviewed at Pinterest, that was a networking connection, too.

Networking events give you direct access to hiring managers, who might connect you with recruiters. Sometimes this connection can even help you bypass the initial screening call, moving you straight to the interview and technical test.

If you get it, you get it. If you don't, you try again. If you can make a good impression, the hiring teams may contact you later and say, "We have a position open, and we think you would be a good fit."

3. Build relationships online

You can also network online but that still means building relationships with the person you would like to have a job with, not just DMing them once. Don't head over to LinkedIn, slip into someone's DMS, and say, "Do you have opportunities? Can I work with you?"

Instead, engage with leaders you want to work with, comment on their posts, and try to engage in conversations before asking for help.

When you're in a position where you can ask someone for help, and you find a job you're interested in, send the job ID and politely ask if they'd be willing to refer you. Big Tech companies offer employees a bonus for successful referrals — so if I refer you and you get hired, I get a bonus.

4. Never stop interviewing

When you're job seeking, never stop interviewing — even if you feel confident about an offer.

Before joining Salesforce, I received two job offers — one from Salesforce and another. I ultimately chose the best offer.

There were also times when I made it to the final round of an interview, only for the company to enter a hiring freeze. Or once, a company came back and said they accidentally miscounted their head count and really couldn't afford to hire after all.

When things like this happen, it's helpful to have a Plan B or to have your name out there with more than one company.

5. Follow up, but not desperately

When I was younger, I didn't have the emotional intelligence I needed. When I got rejected from a job I wanted, I would email the hiring manager and say, "Oh, my God. I really wanted this job."

I've since learned not to make yourself desperate. Instead, after interviewing for a job, I simply send a thank-you note.

If I wasn't told when I would hear back, I would wait roughly five business days before sending a short follow-up email about our conversation.

6. Negotiate, and always know your worth

Job interviews are great for getting your foot in the door, but once you've proven yourself and they make you an offer, negotiate.

If I had known better at 25, I would've negotiated more. Negotiation isn't just about salary — you can also discuss perks like remote work options, education plans, or certifications to help advance your career. Some tech employees pursue MBAs or certifications while working, and it's always worth asking about these opportunities.

Another area to consider is volunteer work. At Salesforce, employees receive volunteer paid time off — seven days of paid leave to support a cause or charity.

My advice to anyone interviewing in Big Tech is this: If you get an offer, push back. Say, "This is what I want." Even a 10% salary increase is a win. Never settle for the first offer— instead, always know your worth, and don't be afraid to ask for it.

• Sushma Kukkadapu moved to the US from India for grad school and then broke into software engineering.
• She emphasizes early career planning, networking, and leveraging open-source projects.
• Kukkadapu's journey highlights the importance of proactive networking and skill development.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sushma Kukkadapu, a 28-year-old software engineer in Bentonville, Arkansas. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

I grew up in Hyderabad, India, where I got a bachelor's degree in computer science. In 2018, I came to the US to pursue my master's in software engineering at UT Arlington.

I started working for the AI labs at Sam's Club, which is owned by Walmart, in November 2023. I work on innovative automation, developing advanced forecasting computational solutions that transform financial forecasting, real-time system monitoring, and security compliance. Before Sam's Club, I worked at Amazon Web Services.

As an immigrant, I faced complexities in immigration and cultural adaptation, and I also had to build a professional network from scratch. I found four techniques that helped me design my career path to gain internships and then my full-time career.

1. Be proactive and start building your career as soon as possible

I volunteered at my university to set up a booth at the Grace Hopper Celebration, a major convention for women in computing where people come to find internship opportunities and network. I received a partial scholarship to attend the career fair, and my university paid for the trip expenses.

I secured my summer internship at McAfee by talking to a recruiter there who was also a graduate of UT Arlington. We connected, and I shared my journey with her. She loved my story and gave me an opportunity.

You need to start early during your first year of college or grad school. Talk to your university's career counselors and ask them what kind of scholarships and career fairs the universities represent. Can I volunteer there? Can you give me a scholarship to attend a certain program?

That way you can kick-start your career and seize an opportunity.

2. Find networking organizations relevant to you

Groups such as the National Society of Black Engineers and the Society of Women Engineers hold careers fairs. Attending these can bring networking opportunities and, in turn, help secure internships and job offers. That's how I secured my summer internship in the Bay Area and how I first got industry exposure in the software domain in Silicon Valley.

The following year, I received a scholarship through the Grace Hopper Celebration, which offers student scholarships for women worldwide. It's a highly competitive process that involves writing an essay, and pitching why you deserve the scholarship.

I was selected for my second year to attend GHC free of cost, including accommodation and flights. That's when I realized the true potential of networking, which could lead to important job offers.

3. Try cold emailing, and don't wait for opportunities to come to you

Prior to attending GHC and other conferences, I cold-emailed the LinkedIn professionals who I knew were attending the conference. This helped me make connections and get into the interview pipeline faster.

I also talked to recruiters before attending GHC. This got me two rounds of interviews with Google Summer of Code, and they did my last round there in person before I landed the internship.

You must not wait for opportunities to come to you. Instead, a short message through LinkedIn, X, or GitHub can help you take a huge step forward.

4. Make the most of open-source technologies

Open source is a real buzzword in tech, but there are a lot of programs being developed on open source, where everybody can contribute to the code. That means the code is fully open to the public and people can plug their own solutions into it, tweak it, develop it, and build it to make it more useful.

I worked on several open-source contributions because they helped me write code at a more sophisticated level, which helped me have strong work experience on my résumé, which helped me land the Google internship.

Companies such as Lyft, Google, Apple, Microsoft, BNY Mellon, and others invited me to conference afterparties because I showcased my work as part of an open-source contribution on my LinkedIn. Recruiters looked for this and reached out to me.

Open source-contribution helps you develop your skills, expand your knowledge, demonstrate results, and build your industry contacts.

• College bed parties are a growing trend, with families spending thousands on celebrations.
• The trend became popular during COVID as a substitute for in-person celebrations and has grown.
• BI spoke with various small business owners and consumers about the party trend.

Gone are the days of wearing a college hoodie and snapping a selfie while posing with an acceptance letter.

Today, for young women in particular, college commitments call for an actual event known as a college bed party. This celebration involves decorating a student's bedroom with the colors, logos, and items that represent the college or university they've committed to — and sharing those images on social media.

The trend gained traction during COVID as a logical workaround for in-person celebrations. But instead of fading post-pandemic, it's only gotten bigger and bolder. Families are shelling out hundreds, even thousands of dollars, on the bed party craze, and small business owners riding the wave of this growing niche are here for it.

Business Insider spoke with a mom who spent about $2,000 hosting a bed party for her daughter; a college student whose mom relied on DIY projects and discounted merchandise for her celebration; and two young entrepreneurs who've turned lucrative side-hustles into six-figure businesses selling custom items for these parties.

Each response has been edited for length and clarity.

Allie Cohen sells over 1,000 blankets each year to high school graduates and bed party clients

Allie Cohen, 26, lives in Philadelphia. She is the founder of Creative Jawns, an online business specializing in college-themed blankets, which are often used as the centerpiece for bed parties.

When I was accepted to the University of Pittsburgh in 2016, I didn't have a bed party. I hadn't even heard of bed parties. All I got was a hug and a T-shirt with the name of my school on it.

Now, I design and sell college blankets for $88 each. I intentionally do not use school logos on my blankets so that I'm not infringing on any copyright, and every year I sell over 1,000 of them. Mine is just one of the 20 or 30 items people buy for their bed party. Most retail for around the same amount, so if you do the math, that's a lot of money.

During my senior year of college in 2019, I started doing digital artwork, making phone backgrounds, and selling them for a few bucks. It was just a hobby, and I had no intention of turning it into a business. Then I graduated in 2020, right when COVID hit.

I figured since I'd already made a little money from my designs, why not see if I could turn it into something bigger?

That summer, I hustled hard creating new designs focused on dorm room art, and eventually turned my side project into a full-time job the following year.

I saw a huge demand for college products and bed party merch. Since I already had a built-in audience of college kids from my dorm room art, I started designing custom college blankets. Today, I have a six-figure business, and my blankets are what I'm best known for.

Last December, I collaborated with Sunshine Sweets, a candy and gift concierge, to launch a $300 bed party box. The box includes my signature 50x60 blanket and other college-themed items.

New products are hitting the market all the time, so I'm very grateful that my blankets have been a mainstay since 2020.

Melinda Long spent about $2,000 on her daughter's bed party

Melinda Long, 48, of Lloyd Harbor, NY, spared no expense for her daughter Sienna's recent bed party, which celebrated her early decision to attend the University of Miami.

I love a good party, so when my oldest daughter, Sienna, was accepted to the University of Miami via early decision, a bed party felt like a fun way to celebrate all her hard work.

It took me about 30 hours to plan and source everything, and two hours to set it up the day of the party. Sienna loves the attention, so I knew I could really go all out for her. I spent around $2,000 altogether.

Thanks to social media, it's easy to find and buy all of the necessities: the branded blanket, the bling Champagne bottle, and a Dotcake covered in sprinkles in the school colors.

I went the extra mile with marquee letters and boxes of personalized balloons and even bought a $200 inflatable mascot and some blow-up palm trees. My mom lives in Florida, and my son already goes to the University of Miami, so we bought everything we could get our hands on.

Did I have to spend that much? No, you could easily do this on any budget, but I just went for it and did it how I wanted to do it. One thing is for sure: there's definitely money to be made in this business.

This year, Sienna has already been to at least 15 bed parties and probably has 15 to go. It adds up because you buy a gift for each one you attend.

Rachel's bed party decorations came to just over $500

Rachel, 20, from Easton, PA, had a more streamlined bed party in 2022, relying on DIY projects and practical merch on sale. BI is withholding her last name for privacy reasons.

When I got accepted to Coastal Carolina in 2022, I hinted to my mom that I wanted a bed party. She made some of the stuff herself, bought other items on sale, and spent an estimated $550.

I didn't have an actual bed party, however, two of my best friends came over to see it and take pictures. Later that year, when I finished high school, I had an actual graduation party.

I know some people say bed parties are excessive, but my mom always said her love language is gift giving, and she likes to celebrate the good things in life. She didn't mind doing it because she knew I'd use the stuff for my dorm room, on game days, and Teal Tuesdays — a weekly campus spirit day where students and faculty are encouraged to wear the school colors. Honestly, I've used it all so much in the last three years at school.

Alex Posner pivoted from a career in medicine to baking college-themed cakes, a popular bed party item

Alex Posner, 25, planned on becoming a doctor before creating The Dotcakes brand. Her busiest season is during spring graduations.

A lot of people think bed parties began during COVID, but I was going to them in high school in 2017.

I didn't want to spend $80 on a gift for a bed party I was attending, so when I saw a sprinkle cake on Tumblr, I thought, why not make one in school colors? I had zero baking experience, but in my family, we have what we refer to as the "I can do it" gene, so I did it.

Back then, it was, dare I say, simple. The people I knew would go to Party City and Target and buy Gatorade and bags of chips in their school colors. That changed once I started making calls. Friends and friends of friends started reaching out and asking me to make them a cake. Suddenly, the people around me couldn't have a party without a Dotcake.

I opened my shop in Westbury, NY, in 2019, and in 2024, we moved it to Roslyn, NY. My mom ran the business while I was in college at the University of Texas, Austin.

At the time, I planned on becoming a doctor, but when I came home, business was booming. I had to make a decision — med school or cake. I figured there would be plenty of other doctors out there, but there was only one Dotcakes, so I stuck with the business.

Today, this business fully supports my life and my staff's, and has only gotten bigger, allowing us to create an entire Dot product line.

Some of our designs take 15 minutes while others take five hours and range from $55 to $300. We make 40 orders a day, 5 days a week, during our busy season — That's 200 orders. Forty percent of that is college-related.

Besides posting on Instagram, I haven't done an ounce of marketing. It's all word of mouth.

I'm lucky I have a bakery that doesn't rely solely on college-related orders. However, I do hope bed parties become a permanent niche market because I can see more companies tapping into this as time goes on.

• Andrea Wasserman, an executive coach, says using a vanity title can enhance influence and recognition.
• Vanity titles clarify roles better than official titles, aiding internal and external perception.
• She suggests using one to boost your visibility, executive presence, and career mobility.

For professionals climbing the corporate ladder, perception matters. How you present yourself — both internally within your organization and externally to the world — can shape your influence and the opportunities that come your way.

I started my career in investment banking and, after getting my MBA, spent 15 years climbing the ladder at Nordstrom, Verizon, Yahoo, and European Wax Center. My last role was chief commercial officer before I left in 2024 and started coaching midlevel leaders to become senior executives as quickly as possible.

If you want influence and recognition, people must understand and respect your work. One powerful yet often overlooked way to enhance how people see you is to strategically refine how you refer to your job title by using a 'vanity title.'

The power of a vanity title

A vanity title — a term used to describe a title that better reflects your actual impact and responsibilities than your official title — can be a game changer.

Instead of solely relying on the literal job title assigned by your employer, consider how you introduce yourself in professional settings, on LinkedIn, and on your résumé.

If your official title is "senior director of operations," that may not immediately communicate your actual scope of influence. Instead, calling yourself the "head of operations" (if you are) or "executive leader of business operations" could provide more accurate visibility into your role.

Similarly, a "project lead" may functionally be managing a department's biggest initiative and could instead refer to themselves as "head of strategic initiatives" or "head of XYZ project."

The balance between honesty and strategic branding

This is not about inflating your title dishonestly; it's about clarity and positioning. Overstating your authority or responsibilities can backfire and damage your credibility, but many corporate job titles are internal shorthand that don't accurately reflect the work's scale.

Rather than considering a vanity title an exaggeration of what you do, think of it as a more precise articulation of your role that helps others immediately understand your expertise and how they can work with you.

Internal and external impact

Within your organization, refining how you describe your role can help colleagues, leadership, and cross-functional teams understand your authority and decision-making power.

If you want to be considered for leadership opportunities and collaboration, your ability to communicate your role effectively can impact how you're perceived in meetings, strategy discussions, and succession planning conversations.

Externally, this practice is even more important. Official job titles are often based on corporate structure and systems. On LinkedIn, recruiters and industry peers often scan job titles to assess someone's relevance for a role or collaboration. If your title is ambiguous or misleadingly junior, you could be overlooked for opportunities matching your skill set and experience.

Consider how your title affects networking conversations. If you introduce yourself at a conference as a "senior specialist in client solutions " rather than a "client strategy executive," the latter may better prompt the right discussions and elevate your perceived level of influence.

How to choose the right vanity title

If you're considering refining how you present your job title, follow these steps to ensure accuracy and effectiveness:

1. Assess your true responsibilities: Write down the core aspects of your role, including leadership responsibilities, strategic oversight, and cross-functional influence. This will help determine whether your given title fully reflects your contributions.
2. Compare with industry standards: Look at how professionals in similar roles at other companies describe themselves. If your title is company-specific jargon, find a more widely understood equivalent.
3. Seek alignment with your company's culture: Some organizations are flexible with how employees present themselves on LinkedIn, while others prefer strict adherence to assigned titles. If necessary, talk with your manager about using a clearer, industry-recognized version.
4. Be ready to explain your role: If asked about your title, confidently articulate your responsibilities in a way that reinforces why you chose to describe yourself in a particular way. The more aligned it is with your real impact, the easier this will be.

The career benefits of refining your title

Adjusting how you refer to yourself professionally can have long-term benefits, such as:

• Increased visibility: A clearer, more senior-sounding title can help you surface in recruiter searches and professional networks.
• Stronger executive presence: The way you introduce yourself can command more respect and credibility in business interactions.
• Enhanced career mobility: A well-positioned title can help set the stage for a promotion or a job transition into an executive role.

Own your narrative

Your job title is a reflection of your professional brand. While you should never misrepresent your role, you have more control than you think over how you frame your expertise and contributions.

In one case, I coached a director to use a vanity title on LinkedIn to position himself to external recruiters in a way that accurately reflected his job duties. Then, I showed him how to demonstrate to his internal HR department that this should be his official job title.

Once that happened, I helped him ask for a compensation review, and he was given a raise commensurate with his updated title.

Thoughtfully refining your job title can help ensure that others see you as the leader you already are — and compensate you for it.

Andrea Wasserman is the founder and CEO of The Executive Express, where she coaches ambitious professionals to accelerate their careers based on everything she learned during her time as a serial Fortune 500 executive.

• Jigyasa Grover's résumés have helped her secure roles at Big Tech companies like Meta and X.
• Her strategy included highlighting academic achievements, technical skills, and leadership roles.
• As she's grown in her career, Grover has updated her résumé to emphasize her work's strategic impact.

Jigyasa Grover kicked off her career in Big Tech with an internship at Meta, scored her first full-time job at X, and is now a Google Development Advisory Board member alongside her current full-time role as lead of AI and research at the startup Bordo AI.

The San Francisco Bay Area resident, 29, had to be strategic over the last decade to achieve these experiences. Part of her strategy involved leveraging her résumé to win over Big Tech hiring teams.

"My résumé has always been structured to highlight a balance of technical prowess and practical impact, though the emphasis has shifted over time," Grover said.

The machine learning engineer shared with Business Insider two résumés that she crafted.

One helped her land her Meta internship in 2018 at 22 years old:

And another got her a full-time job at X the following year:

She walked us through the points she feels worked best about her résumés, along with insights she's gained along the way about which elements she would change today.

Breaking in — focus on academic background and "meticulously detailed" technologies

The résumé that Grover used as a college student to catch the attention of Meta focused heavily on her academic background.

"I made sure to list my GPA and highlight my top percentile ranking to demonstrate a solid academic foundation," Grover said. She feels that having a strong GPA at the University of California, San Diego and being selected to participate in the weeklong Cornell, Maryland, and Max Planck Pre-doctoral Research School helped her get her foot in the door.

Showcasing her self-starter attitude and non-traditional work experience

To demonstrate her proactive approach to learning beyond the classroom, Grover highlighted some international research internships she had participated in. She also flagged her active engagement in open-source projects like Google Summer of Code.

"This was a particularly important part of my application for early roles because it showcased that I'm a self-starter," Grover said.

Since she didn't yet have experience as a tech employee, she feels that listing these experiences was critical and "surprisingly effective," even though they weren't traditionally considered work experience.

Grover used the experience section to meticulously detail the various technologies she'd worked with, emphasizing the technical depth of each project. These contributions provided her a chance to show real code and impact as an active participant in the tech community.

"This was essential to show that I could handle complex theory as well as the practical implementations needed for AI/ML roles," she said. "Early-stage companies and Big Tech often looked for specific skills, so having a deep understanding of certain programming languages and various ML frameworks certainly helped."

Beyond technical projects, Grover also felt it was important to demonstrate leadership and community contributions

"I chose to include leadership positions at organizations like Women Who Code, Google Developers Group, and as a mentor in open-source communities to show my commitment to impact beyond my own work," she said.

This allowed her to differentiate herself from other candidates who may have only had academic or work experience on their résumés, and highlighted her soft skills like communication, collaboration, and strategic thinking.

"Leading and organizing events, mentoring other engineers, and presenting at conferences demonstrated my ability to contribute beyond just writing code," she said. "It showcased that I was more than just a developer, but also a community builder and a team leader, which ultimately helped me to take on more leadership roles at different companies."

Grover's full-time résumé followed a similar structure, but with an emphasis on impact

As she gained more industry experience, the academic section of her résumé became less of a focus and more of a "check the box" element. She kept the framework of her template the same but underwent a fundamental paradigm shift in her presentation approach.

"I began focusing on value creation, quantifiable business impacts, architectural decisions that exponentially scaled systems, and leadership initiatives that transformed an organization's capabilities," Grover said.

She added that while the experience section remained essential in establishing credibility and domain expertise, she learned how to transform this section from a mere checklist into a platform that demonstrates her unique professional narrative and value proposition to potential employers.

Emphasizing her research publications also helped add credibility to her work, demonstrate thought leadership, and prove her commitment to continuous learning.

"It demonstrated my ability to deliver projects with no external motivation," Grover said. "The fact that I built so many independent projects really showcased that I wasn't just following a set curriculum, but was also curious about areas of computer science outside of my comfort zone."

She also expanded the section for her awards, media features, podcasts, and public speaking to show additional achievements. Highlighting her top placements in multiple hackathons revealed her competitive spirit and willingness to innovate and push boundaries.

Grover believes that this combination of open-source work, research projects, strong academic performance, leadership experience, and quantifiable impact ultimately made her X application successful.

"Each element demonstrated a unique part of my skillset and showed that I was well-rounded and ready for the challenges of Big Tech," she said.

Knowing what she knows now, Grover would make some changes to her résumé

"In life, there's always room for improvement," she said. "I'd focus my résumé even more on strategic impact and cross-functional leadership."

While Grove feels that she's made solid progress in highlighting business metrics, she thinks she could further emphasize how her technical decisions aligned with broader company strategies.

She'd also consider these résumé changes:

• Restructure the publications section to more explicitly show how her work has influenced industry practices.
• Make the community involvement section more selective and focused on the most strategic impacts.
• Consolidate some of the technical project details to make room for more emphasis on team leadership and organizational influence.

One key learning for Grover has been that as you progress in your career, showing how you influence and drive change across organizations becomes increasingly important.

"My old résumé emphasized the 'what,' but now in the latest iterations, I try to emphasize the 'why,' the impact, and the overall story," Grover said.

Do you have a story to share about how you landed a Big Tech job? Contact this editor, Jane Zhang, at [email protected].

• Melinda Long, a mother of three, threw a $2,000 college reveal party for her oldest daughter.
• Long said she learned about "college bed parties" three years ago when her son got invited to one.
• She said she received both good and bad responses from it, but has no regrets.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Melinda Long, a 48-year-old owner of Grit and Glow, a health and fitness company, and mother of three from Lloyd Harbor, New York. It's been edited for length and clarity

I love a good party, so when my oldest daughter, Sienna, was accepted to the University of Miami via early decision, I threw her a bed party. A bed party is a celebration where a student publicly shares the college or university they've committed to.

It took me about 30 hours to plan and source everything, and two hours to set it up the day of the party. Sienna loves the attention, so I knew I could really go all out for her.

I spent around $2,000 altogether. Did I have to spend that much? No, you could easily do this on any budget, but I just went for it and did it how I wanted to do it. Sienna worked hard to get into her dream school, and a bed party felt like a fun way to celebrate with family and friends.

It's easy to figure out the must-have staples you need for a college bed party

I first heard about bed parties three years ago when my son, Dylan, who is now a sophomore in college, was invited to a few of them. Then, last year, Sienna started going to them for girls in the grade above her.

Thanks to social media, it's easy to gather all of the necessities: the branded blanket, the bling Champagne bottle, and the Dot Cake covered in sprinkles in the school colors.

I went the extra mile with marquee letters and boxes of personalized balloons and even bought a $200 inflatable mascot and some blow-up palm trees. My mom lives in Florida, and my son already goes to the University of Miami, so we bought everything we could get our hands on.

It was an hourlong party with her close friends

We hosted 25 girls, and for the first 15 minutes, there was a total social media frenzy with music blasting and girls posing for pictures on the bed with the bling bottle. Then they ate.

We had plenty to choose from, including a charcuterie board with the school initials, a custom candy sushi platter, and a candy board. I even found cheese in orange and green — the school colors.

Within an hour, the party was over, and the girls went home to do their homework.

Many of her classmates have thrown bed parties this year

This year, Sienna has already been to at least 15 bed parties and probably has 15 to go. It adds up because you buy a gift for each one you attend to add to the bed.

Gifts can range from school merchandise to items in the school colors. Some girls pool their money and go in on a bigger gift. Our go-to gift is a baseball cap with a patch from the school on it. It's simple, and since we have so many of these, it just makes sense, price-wise.

The parties themselves vary. Some girls have them in their rooms, while others prefer to have everything laid out on the couch in the living room. There are no hard and fast rules.

I got mixed reviews online, but I don't regret it

After half a million views on TikTok, I've been called everything — good, bad, and in between. I'm immune to it at this point. I went extra and I don't regret it a single bit.

Sienna loved every minute of it, and that's what matters. I'd do it all over again, and since I have one more kid at home, I'll have the chance to in two more years.

If you have a unique expense story that you would like to share, please email the editor, Manseen Logan, at [email protected]

• Wenjay Sung created a trust to ensure his stepchildren and biological child will be protected.
• Sung's decision was influenced by his brother's death without a will, which caused probate issues.
• The trust includes a $3M house, a $1M practice, and $800K in retirement accounts split among the kids.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Wenjay Sung, a 45-year-old physician in Pasadena, California. It has been edited for length and clarity.

My wife, Su Sung, and I were both previously divorced. We connected through our shared experience of the trauma and hardship of our experiences. Six months after meeting in 2018, we got engaged.

I went from being a single guy in Los Angeles to a dad almost overnight. Her children from a previous marriage, Mckyle and Alicia, were 11 and 9.

I love being married again and becoming a father to my stepkids — I consider them my children. They call me ba, which means dad in Mandarin Chinese. I drop them off at school, attend PTA meetings, and meet with their teachers, counselors, and friends' parents.

When it came time to write my trust, I wanted to leave my assets to them as if they were my biological children.

In 2019, we had our son, Eddie

We weren't planning to have another kid. At the time, my wife was 38, and she didn't think she could get pregnant again. It was so joyful to add Eddie to our lives.

Although my stepkids don't share my last name, I love all three of my kids and decided to divide my assets equally among them.

I have a lot of assets, as does my wife — she's a nurse practitioner in aesthetics.

I put together a trust at age 40

I wanted to make sure my kids would all be protected. My baby brother died of an overdose. He didn't have a will or trust, and his case is still in probate. The courts are backed up, and it's a mess. We don't want our kids ever to have to deal with that.

We placed our assets inside a living trust and equally split everything, including a $3M house, a $1M doctor practice, and $800,000 in retirement accounts.

I plan to max out all the kids' retirement accounts and HSA accounts annually. If the economy grows, those accounts should continue to grow.

The older kids didn't care much at first

When we first told the older kids about the trust, they said, "Okay, whatever," and returned to playing video games. More recently, we discussed the trust with them again, and Mckyle appreciated that it was split equally among all the kids.

Alicia said poignantly, "The ability to leave behind a piece of yourself with those you trust to carry your name is the reason for life."

In 2024, I had a health scare

I went in for a routine physical, and my doctor said after 40, I should get a "coronary calcium score" since I have a family history of a heart attack on my dad's side.

Afterward, further tests and scans were recommended, and what is commonly called the "widow maker" was found to be a blockage to the LAD, one of the main arteries that supply blood to the heart muscle. The nickname is due to its lack of symptoms when blocked, sometimes resulting in men suddenly dying from massive heart attacks.

Immediately after the results, I went to the ER, and my cardiologist recommended an angiogram. He removed a 90% blockage. It's scary, and I could've died if we didn't catch it. It brought to reality that life is very short.

I'm not planning to retire. Retirement will bore me, and I feel like I'll just die quicker if I stop working. As a doctor and owner of my own practice, I can work for the rest of my life.

Life can be fleeting

Anything could happen to any of us. We wanted to impart that information to our children.

We've worked hard for our professional success, and we wanted them to understand that the trust means they will be provided for if anything happens to us. They now understand the importance of having assets.

• Google hired Alana Karen in 2001 to review and approve ads on the site.
• Karen said after 10 years the company shifted and she started to consider whether she should quit.
• Her Q&A system helped her determine the right time to leave Google.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Alana Karen, a 47-year-old ex-Google employee, author, tech leader, and speaker based in Palo Alto, California. It's been edited for length and clarity.

By the end of my 23-year career at Google, the company felt like my bad ex-boyfriend. The one who didn't give me everything I needed, but I still stayed.

I really felt like I had to keep proving myself, but after 20 years of being a solid employee, it felt demoralizing. High performers need to feel valued. I did not.

I still feel very fortunate to have worked at Google for as long as I did. I watched it transform from scrappy startup to global power, but after 20 years, four questions helped me decide it was time to quit.

My first decade at Google was a rocketship

I was hired at Google in November 2001. My job was manually reviewing and approving ads that people submitted to run on Google.

When I started, Google had only a few hundred employees, but we were constantly changing buildings and shifting desks to accommodate more people. I enjoyed the rapid pace of development because I faced a new challenge every day and never stopped learning.

It was intense, nonstop work, but I loved it. I spent most days deep in nitty gritty work, solving tough problems with many really smart, fun people. I felt excited to work for a company with a mission I supported — making information more accessible. Plus, the company was small enough that I really felt like I was contributing to it personally.

I wish I had taken advantage of the perks

There's all this talk in tech about the perks like table tennis or bouncy balls, but in those early years, I didn't have time for any of that. I do think other people took better advantage and took better breaks, but I remember it being rare to have a break.

Though this wasn't necessarily a negative. I never burned out because I felt connected to Google's vision, I saw my purpose, and I felt like I was doing good for the world.

Over time, I felt the company shifting away from its scrappy, startup feel, and I found myself sitting in lots of long meetings with charts and graphs and people myopically arguing about numbers.

I considered quitting a couple of times after working at Google for 10 years

I hit my 10-year mark while on my second maternity leave in 2011, and I considered leaving. Instead, I found a new role within Google Fiber, a fledgling startup creating high-speed internet access, which had me hopping into another fast-paced role that reignited my passion for my work.

I loved my new role, and I didn't question my career again until 2017 when Google Fiber reversed directions, and I, alongside hundreds of people, had to find other roles in Google or get fired. It was a true heartbreak.

I created a Q&A system to help me determine if a Google role was the right fit for me

For much of 2017, I worked full-time as director of the access transition team. In this role, I helped coworkers find other roles at Google before deciding where I wanted to land next. I started to feel the stress in my body and had to question if I was truly OK to stay.

I decided I would continue with Google, but I was wiser to the fact that I can't put all my faith into the company. I knew it was up to me to protect my health and emotions. I transitioned to the core of Google, Google Search, as a program manager, quite intentionally. I wanted to work somewhere I knew Google was concretely invested.

My new role rekindled my excitement, but I came up with four questions to ask myself at the start of every year, to make sure I was still happy at Google. Do I like what I'm doing? Am I having fun? Do I like the people I work with? Am I still learning?

By 2021, my job was getting harder and I absolutely felt at risk of being laid off

I felt my job was taking up more of my personal energy. A structural reorganization followed by a series of layoffs really took a toll on company morale.

Plus, in the race to develop AI, I felt pressure to work around the clock and crank it out, but with fewer people due to layoffs. I noticed people sending emails in the evening or on weekends more, trying their best to look indispensable.

I knew I was great at my job, but I worried the company would see me, a well-paid program manager director, as a line item they could no longer afford. But, I wanted to stay because I still loved many of my coworkers, I felt responsible for helping my team through this major adaptation, and because I was the main breadwinner for my family.

I gave myself an ultimatum. Then I quit.

I checked in with my four checkpoints, and my results were degrading. I wasn't learning, and in the midst of tough layoffs, I wasn't having fun.

In 2024, I applied for the next progression of my program manager job in hopes it would spark some new learning. I told myself if I didn't get the job, I'd quit.

Well, I didn't get the job, and I immediately went to my HR person to quit. My ending felt very complete, and I was happy to have left based on my own decision.

I miss my coworkers, but I make time to keep in touch. The biggest thing I've learned since leaving is that I'm a whole person without Google. It's been nice to give myself the space to explore new avenues.

If you have worked in Big Tech for over 20 years and would like to share your story, please contact the editor, Manseen Logan, at [email protected].

• Kenneth Price, an American engineer, moved to the Netherlands for a better quality of life.
• Price faces questions about US politics from locals, especially after Trump's election win.
• He prefers the Netherlands' work-life balance and less polarized political environment.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Kenneth Price, a 47-year-old engineer living in Eindhoven, Netherlands. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

I've been living in Eindhoven, Netherlands, since July. I moved here from San Diego for my job in machine engineering in the semiconductor industry. My wife and I are happy and secure here.

During the most recent US election, most locals were confident that the result would be different than what it was. Leading up to the election, there were a lot of conversations about it.

Since Trump won the election and took office in January, I've been getting a lot of questions as an American abroad.

In general, the current US president is not very popular

Most people here seem to think that almost all Americans are into politics. I'm interested in politics, but my views don't align with either major party.

I've never voted for either of the two major parties. I've always voted third party because I don't believe in binary choices. It's been hard to explain that to people here.

It's not uncommon for people to start the conversations here by asking who you voted for, what you think about Trump, and what you think about what's going on. I think they automatically assume I support the current administration. They see a lot of divisiveness on social media, but many of us don't fit into those boxes.

I've heard a lot of comments like 'I bet you're glad you're not there right now' — and I am

It's very direct. To be honest, I don't want to talk about it. I don't follow the news in the US all that much. What I do follow on social media is polarized, and it seems to have gotten worse.

I hear mostly about how friends in the US are afraid to leave the country to visit because they fear not being able to return home.

Immediately after the election, I started getting even more questions. It was really interesting. At first, my colleagues asked, "How do you feel?"

My response was generally, "I'm glad I'm here." They're fairly understanding once you explain that you don't know the answer to their questions. It's a bit disconcerting that you have to explain it because it wasn't like that before last year. I came to the Netherlands several times a year for four years before moving full-time.

The election solidified my decision not to return to the US. I'm on a five-year highly skilled visa. I can apply for citizenship or renew it at the end of the five years.

We want to stay for the quality of life, work-life balance, air quality, low cost of living, and low crime — everything about this place that the US isn't.

The biggest thing since the election has been the change in how people are tiptoeing around subjects

I noticed that conversations always start with "no offense." I respond, "Where's that coming from?" Regardless of whether I agree, I won't be offended by what people say.

People always ask me to explain what the US government is doing. As soon as I open my mouth, even if I speak Dutch at A2, or an intermediate level, they know I'm American.

It seems as though people feel like they have to go out of their way to have conversations about topics related to the US if they know you're American.

I don't see a lot of anti-Elon Musk stuff, but I do see a lot of caricatures of Trump

I do follow Dutch news and politics. In the Netherlands, we have a center-right government and some politicians who get compared to Trump. This government is mostly unpopular among the people I associate with, but I know it's popular among certain groups.

There's a lot of conversation around that, and people are always making comparisons to the US. The politics here are less polarized because there are more options for who to vote for, and the government is very competent.

I've been more affected by real-world things like the dollar going down against the euro

I have money in a US bank account that I want to move here. The exchange rate used to be roughly one-to-one, or the dollar was a bit stronger. Recently, it's dropped around 10%.

I don't want to keep anything in my US bank account. I'm worried it won't be worth anything unless something significant changes. Being directly affected like that has made me mad.