Man, for the longest time, I just felt… off. Like a puzzle piece crammed into the wrong spot, you know? I’d hop from one job to the next, thinking ‘this is it,’ only to find myself staring at the ceiling at 3 AM again, wondering what the heck I was doing with my life. It wasn’t about the money, really. Some of those gigs paid decent. But the fit? Nah, never quite there. There was this underlying hum of dissatisfaction, a quiet yearning for something deeper that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
I remember this one evening, just scrolling through some random stuff online, feeling particularly down about my current ‘career path’ – if you could even call it that. Everything felt mechanical, bland. And then I stumbled onto this personality thing, these ‘types.’ INFJ. I read through the descriptions, and it was like someone had taken a peek inside my head and written a whole book about it. Every single line just clicked. The intuition, the empathy, the desire for meaning, the feeling of being a bit different from everyone else. It was all there. Then, I looked up Pisces, my zodiac sign, and how it often blends with INFJ traits. That’s when it really hit me – this deep, intuitive, and often somewhat dreamy nature I had always just considered ‘me’ had a name, and it came with a whole set of insights.
From there, it became this whole mission. I mean, not like a sudden burst of energy, but more like a slow, steady dive. I started really paying attention to what drained me in my past jobs. The constant need for small talk, the superficial interactions, the cut-throat competition, the feeling of just being a cog in a giant, impersonal machine, cranking out work with no real soul to it. Those were immediate red flags. I realized my previous attempts at finding a career were like throwing darts in the dark, hoping something would stick. Now, I felt like I had a compass, even if it was still a bit wobbly.
I began searching for careers that weren’t just ‘good for INFJs’ or ‘good for Pisces,’ but felt right for me, this specific blend. It wasn’t just about helping people, though that’s a big part of it, for sure. It was about creating something meaningful, having a sense of peace, and really using that intuition I always had but never quite trusted in a work setting. I scoured forums, read countless articles, and honestly, just spent a lot of time reflecting on my own experiences. What moments in life had truly made me feel alive, fulfilled, purposeful?
I tried a couple of volunteer gigs first, just to test the waters without the pressure of a full-time commitment. Helped out at a local charity, sorting donations and talking to people who came in. Then I worked on some creative writing projects on the side, just for myself, seeing if I could get lost in a story. What I noticed was how alive I felt when I was genuinely connecting with people, listening deeply to their stories, trying to understand their needs and offer genuine support. And even more so when I was completely lost in a creative flow, crafting words, building worlds, or just sketching out ideas. The quiet, focused work, where I could really dig deep and use my empathy without being overwhelmed by constant noise or superficial demands – that’s where I thrived.
One of my previous jobs was in a high-pressure sales environment. I figured, “Hey, I’m good with people, maybe I can sell.” Big mistake. The constant pushing, the focus on metrics above genuine connection, the need to always be “on” and aggressive – it felt like sandpaper on my soul. I’d come home absolutely drained, not just physically, but emotionally. That’s when I saw the contrast so clearly. The sales job sucked the life out of me, while volunteering and writing, even without pay, gave me energy back.
It wasn’t a straight line, mind you. There were false starts and moments of doubt. I almost took another job that looked good on paper but my gut just screamed no. Had to trust that feeling, even when it didn’t make logical sense to turn down a decent offer. That was a big step for me – learning to listen to that internal barometer. I spent a good few months just doing freelance writing and some consulting work for non-profits, mostly just project-based stuff, piecing together a living. It was tight financially, but mentally, I was doing better than I had in years.
What I eventually landed on, or rather, what slowly coalesced, wasn’t one specific job title, but a set of conditions and environments. I realized I needed a workplace that valued authenticity and impact over pure profit. A place where I could delve deep into understanding complex problems, connect with others on a meaningful level, and contribute to something that felt inherently good or creative. Whether it’s writing, counseling, or even something in the arts or education, the core elements have to be there: depth, purpose, and genuine connection. It’s still a journey, always adapting and learning, but now I’m finally playing my own song, instead of trying to hit notes in someone else’s symphony. And that, my friends, makes all the difference.
