Man, careers. Who knew they could be such a head-scratcher? For the longest time, I felt like I was just drifting, you know? Like I’d get into something, really put my heart into it for a bit, and then suddenly, outta nowhere, this feeling would creep in. A restlessness. A boredom. A deep, unsettling nudge that just told me, “Nope, this ain’t it.”
I remember my first real gig after college. I plunged right into this entry-level marketing role. Figured, hey, it’s creative, it’s about communication, sounds kinda fun. For a few months, I was all in. I was buzzing, coming up with ideas, talking to people, organizing campaigns. My brain was firing on all cylinders, just like that chatty Gemini part of me loves. But then, the routine started kicking in. The endless meetings that felt pointless. The spreadsheets. The corporate lingo that sucked the soul out of everything. Suddenly, I felt trapped. Like I was choking on all the structure. My mind, which usually loves to flit from one shiny thing to another, just felt dulled.
It was a struggle. On one hand, I wanted to explore everything, learn all the things, be involved in a million different projects – classic Gemini, right? But then, there was this other side of me, that dreamy, sensitive Pisces moon, that just craved meaning, connection, and a sense of belonging. It wanted to make a difference, to create something beautiful, to feel deeply. Marketing, for all its surface-level creativity, just started feeling… shallow. Like I was just selling stuff, not truly creating or connecting. I’d sit at my desk, staring out the window, just wishing I could be doing something more soulful, more impactful. I started feeling totally drained, getting home every night with this heavy feeling in my chest.
So, naturally, I bounced. I tried a few different things after that. I actually went into graphic design for a while, thinking, “Aha! Creative outlet!” I got pretty good at it, too. Loved the visual storytelling part, seeing my ideas come to life. That satisfied the Pisces’ need for beauty and creation. But after a couple of years, the client revisions, the deadlines that felt arbitrary, the constant push to deliver exactly what someone else envisioned without much room for my own artistic interpretation… it started to feel constricting again. My Gemini brain craved more variety, more intellectual stimulation, less repetitive execution. I felt like I was just a pair of hands, not a whole brain.
I remember one particularly rough patch. I was just hopping from one short-term contract to another, trying to find that “thing.” Everyone around me seemed to have it figured out, building careers, climbing ladders. And there I was, still feeling like a kid in a candy store who couldn’t pick just one treat, or worse, felt sick after eating them all. It was frustrating, demoralizing even. I started wondering if there was something wrong with me, if I was just inherently flaky or indecisive. This internal tug-of-war was exhausting.
The big shift, for me, came when I stopped trying to fit into a predefined box. I stopped looking for the career. Instead, I started paying attention to what truly energized me, what made me lose track of time. And guess what? It wasn’t one single job title. It was a combination of things. I loved learning new stuff, breaking down complex ideas, and then explaining them in a way that people could grasp. I also loved helping people, really listening to their stories, and making sense of their unique challenges.
So, I started playing around with a few ideas. I got into some freelance writing and editing on the side. This gave me the intellectual stimulation and variety my Gemini side craved. Every project was different, a new topic to research, a new voice to adapt to. And I found myself naturally drawn to helping clients clarify their messages, bringing a bit of that sensitive, intuitive Pisces understanding to the core of what they were trying to say. I also started dabbling in some community work, volunteering for causes I cared about. That really fed the Pisces moon’s need for meaning and connection, making me feel like I was contributing to something bigger than myself.
It wasn’t a sudden “aha!” moment where I found my single perfect career. It was more like, I started weaving together different threads. I realized my Gemini Sun needs that mental variety and communication, while my Pisces Moon needs depth, empathy, and a sense of purpose. Trying to force them into a rigid, singular career path was just making me miserable. So now, I kinda have a portfolio career, you know? I do my freelance writing and content creation, which keeps the brain busy and the conversations flowing. And I also got involved in some consulting, where I get to help small businesses figure out their communication strategies. It’s varied, it’s about connecting with people, and it feels like I’m making a genuine difference in a practical way. It’s not always easy, no career is, but it finally feels like I’m moving with my flow instead of constantly swimming against a current.
