You Don't Need a Five Year Plan
Embracing the Unknown: Why Not Having It All Figured Out Is the Best Career Strategy
Advice From Someone Who Still Has a Lot to Figure Out
It feels almost silly to write advice when I'm not even 30 yet. But 18-year-old me had no idea what she wanted to be when she grew up, and 28-year-old me still doesn't either.
When I graduated college with my Political Science degree, it was easy for everyone, including my grandma, to believe that law school was the next big step. However, I knew two things for sure after interning for two summers at a local immigration firm. One, I hated the work-life balance of an immigration attorney. Two, I didn't want to carry the responsibility of a whole person's well-being on my shoulders yet.
So, I did what newly graduated people everywhere eventually have to do: hit the job market.
My mom is one of the smartest and coolest people I know. She is also one of the funniest people to get advice from. During my first job search and flood of applications, she looked at me, told me to “apply with the confidence of a mediocre white man,” and went back to her day. While that is a hilarious piece of advice for your daughter, it really settled into something bigger for me as I got older. I was treating every recommended skill and “nice to have” on a job description like a qualification checklist. If I couldn’t check every box, I was eliminating myself before anyone else had the chance to decide whether I could do the job. My mom’s advice forced me to consider that maybe it wasn’t my job to decide whether I was qualified.
Over time, that lesson became less about job applications and more about how I wanted to approach my career. Go for the opportunity. Someone will see what you have to offer before you can fully see it yourself. Chase something that challenges you and makes you better. Find work that you care deeply about, but still leave at the door when your day is done. Chase the job where the person you are becoming matters more than the title you are collecting. And look for the opportunity where you don’t have to sacrifice your voice to be seen as professional.
The vice president of my department at work once said, “Your clothes should never have more personality than you do,” when discussing on-site dress code. I wore hot pink trousers to my final interview with him. However, from that first dress code meeting during onboarding to now, he has told me that I’ve “earned my pink pants.” I love that phrase because, somewhere along the way, the pink pants became more than what I wore to work. I’ve been able to maintain my authentic voice, my occasionally out-there business wardrobe, and my willingness to tackle any challenge that gets thrown my way while building a career in a field I never saw coming. I didn’t have to become a different version of myself to become a professional one.
My career started with a deep knowledge that I did not want to be responsible for another person’s well-being and that I enjoyed being able to step away from work when the day was done. I ended up consulting in the legal field, working with various law firms and other agencies to provide ad hoc support. Throughout my time as a consultant, I found a deep love for contract law (like a nerd) and went back to earn my postgraduate paralegal certificate. I continued my work in contract law with an emphasis on IT and healthcare. During one consulting role in IT sourcing, I was introduced to the field I find myself in today: healthcare supply chain. I’m still a consultant in a sense, but it’s different from when I moved between companies for a short period of time. I have developed my professional voice while still allowing people to see the real personality behind it, developed through what I would call “considerable life experience.”
I also swore I would never go back to school again. That changed, too. In January 2027, I’ll begin my MBA at Boston University, a school that was never on my radar until I opened myself up to the possibility of going back to school on my terms and my timeline.
I was the one to have the next big thing figured out. I needed to know what was coming so I could prepare, plan, panic, whatever emotion might come up. I thought not knowing what I wanted would mean I was a failure or I hadn’t figured it out yet. Now I know figuring it out is the career. You don’t have to know where something leads for it to be worth pursuing. Sometimes an opportunity can teach you what you love. It might teach you what you absolutely do not want. Both are useful.
I can’t tell 18-year-old me what she’s going to be when she grows up, and “healthcare supply chain consultant” sounds BORING. But I can tell her to apply for the job. Take the opportunity. Ask the question. Keep the parts of herself that she thought should be toned down. Change her mind. Go back to school if she wants. And absolutely wear hot pink pants wherever she ends up.
