Every hero’s tale begins with a disruption.
Career disruption can be treated as failure or an ending. More often, it is the middle of the story.
I was introduced to Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey storytelling arc by a previous leader of mine. However, I had been exposed to it long before that. It is a universal narrative, found in every culture and passed down through generations. For me, and I will indulge in a small nerd moment here, it was Star Wars.
A galaxy far, far away introduced me to a farm boy and dreamer, Luke Skywalker. He begins in the familiar, living a quiet life on Tatooine. He is thrust into chaos when Princess Leia’s desperate message reaches him via R2-D2 and C-3PO. He is guided by mentors like Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda. He is tested by enemies such as Darth Vader, the Emperor, and even his own doubt. He is transformed through loss, responsibility, and hard truths.
By Return of the Jedi, Luke faces his father not with vengeance, but with compassion. He refuses the dark side. He emerges not just as a Jedi, but as a wiser and more grounded version of himself.
That arc isn’t reserved for mythology. It is what real transition looks like when identity, certainty, and belonging are stripped away.
Across the trilogy, Luke’s journey mirrors transformations many of us experience in our working lives. We leave what we know, confront uncertainty, and return changed. His transition is an inspirational story of growth, but also of discomfort, doubt, and persistence.
When the call to adventure is redundancy
For most of us, the call to adventure does not arrive with a sword or a prophecy. It arrives with a calendar invite and the words, “Your role is being made redundant.”
In that moment, most people are not thinking about growth. They are thinking about loss.
This is the story of someone I love and respect deeply. A dear friend, Nerina. It is a different kind of career transition story. One of reinvention, quiet strength, resilience, and a long path back to purpose. This is not a highlight reel. It is a real journey of growth.
The ordinary world
Nerina was exactly where she wanted to be.
She had earned her place at an organisation she loved. It trusted her, gave her autonomy, and allowed her to thrive in a culture that felt like home. Her work was meaningful. It was not just a job. It was part of her identity.
She had worked hard to get there. She belonged.
Losing that kind of belonging hits differently.
The call to adventure
Something in the air began to change.
Nerina sensed a shift. Her role, while valued, was becoming less viable as business conditions evolved. When the news finally arrived over Zoom, she was half prepared, but still heartbroken.
When the call ended, she cried.
Not just because she was losing a job, but because she was losing a version of herself that had worked.
She was grateful for a generous notice period and redundancy package. Still, one question echoed loudly. How will I ever find another place that feels like this again?
Refusal of the call
In the early days, fear took hold.
Could she replicate that sense of belonging elsewhere? Was she destined to return to a more transactional version of work? One that felt colder and less aligned?
She was grieving the loss of her role, but also the version of herself who had flourished within it.
This is the part of career transition most people underestimate.
Meeting the mentors
Like most modern heroes, Nerina didn’t have a single guiding wizard. She had a village.
Colleagues, friends, and people across her industry offered perspective. Some gave advice. Others simply listened. Collectively, they helped her see something she had not before.
The world was bigger than one organisation.
Support didn’t remove the fear. But it did make movement possible.
Crossing the threshold
With growing clarity, Nerina stepped forward.
She returned her laptop. She updated her LinkedIn profile. She made a conscious decision to fast track her degree, a long held ambition she finally had space to pursue.
Still, she needed more than a study plan. She needed a reset.
So she and her husband went away. Not to escape, but to align. Together, as partners and parents, they recalibrated. The trip became a quiet but powerful commitment to the next chapter.
Transitions are rarely solo journeys, even when they feel lonely.
Tests, allies, and enemies
Reality returned with sharp edges.
In her forties, with no formal experience in the field, Nerina was applying for roles in communications and public relations. These roles genuinely excited her and aligned with her studies, where she was excelling.
On paper, she didn’t meet many briefs. Twenty years of business experience is difficult to compress into bullet points that tick traditional boxes.
Rejection came. Then it came again. And again.
The hardest enemy was not the market. It was self-doubt.
Still, she showed up. She studied. She committed to a presence, telling her story, on LinkedIn. She advocated for herself. She networked relentlessly.
Some days, she wondered if she was chasing a unicorn. A role that did not exist. But her instinct, the same one she had followed throughout her career, told her she could do this. The market just didn’t know it yet.
Approaching the innermost cave
During this period, Nerina discovered something unexpected. Herself.
She had always been competent and driven. Now, she saw something deeper. Quiet resilience. The ability to let go of ego. The humility to ask for help.
In her mid-forties, she embraced not knowing the right path and focused on building her own map.
Letting go of certainty became a skill, not a weakness.
The ordeal
Then came the true test.
Over the Christmas period, Nerina paused her job search and poured herself into study. Four units. Twelve weeks. While others wrapped gifts, she unpacked theory.
She worked early mornings and late nights. She submitted assignments early. Her focus was clear. February was her return point to the workforce.
It wasn’t glamorous. It was not visible.
No one applauds this part. But it counts for so much.
The reward
Then the message arrived.
Someone from her past had seen one of her vulnerable LinkedIn posts. A post she had agonised over before pressing publish. That person connected her with a hiring manager.
Within a week, after all this time, she was hired.
The courage to share. The effort to connect. The slow, consistent advocacy. It all mattered. Not overnight. Not easily. But honestly.
The road back
Stepping into her new role felt surreal.
This was the position she had quietly worked towards for years. The one she had imagined, studied for, and pursued without knowing if it would ever exist.
Things clicked into place, not by luck, but through her courage, connection, and consistency.
Resurrection
Today, Nerina walks taller.
She is not the same person who sat crying after that Zoom call. She’s more grounded. More confident. More comfortable with risk, imperfection, and possibility.
She understands that self-doubt is a powerful enemy, one that lives in most of us. She’s also proof that it can be overcome.
Sadly, most people never meet this version of themselves, because they turn back too early.
Returning with the elixir
So what does Nerina say to those facing redundancy now?
“See it as an opportunity. Not just to find a new job, but to reimagine your life. Get out of your comfort zone. Look beyond what you know. Take a risk.”
If you are facing redundancy, you don’t need a perfect plan. One honest next step is a great start.
Because the real transformation does not happen in the familiar. The story only starts when you leave it.
