At 55 years old, I can say with confidence that I am proudly unemployable. And no, this isn’t a bad thing—though it took me a while to realize that. For most of my life, I tried to fit into the mold of a “good employee,” only to find myself frustrated, drained, and discouraged until I finally quit or was ultimately fired. What I’ve come to understand is that although being employable has its perks, being unemployable isn’t necessarily negative; it can actually be a testament to resilience and an unwillingness to settle for the status quo.

My first firing happened when I was 26, and looking back, it was one of the best things that could have happened to me.

That First Time I Was Fired

At 26, I worked for a business owner who will remain unnamed, but a hint for those in the know: his first name sounds like  “Thug” and he could only be described as a horrible bully. He would scream and berate his staff until they broke down in tears. I refused to be one of them. One fateful day I decided to courier an envelope overnight instead of using internal mail. The last time I used internal mail, the tickets were lost, and I didn’t want to risk that again. So I did what I thought was safe, as I was trying to do, “my job”. However, upon returning from lunch, the Thug met me at the door in a violent rage. Apparently the  receptionist outed me on this misuse of company funds and he was furious. He hurled insults at me, all while angrily waving the envelope in my face. I had had enough. I grabbed the envelope, tossed it back at him, and told him that if he didn’t like the way I did my job, he should handle it himself. After that, he left me alone, giving me only polite nods in the hallway which was a blissful reprieve from his bullying, but other employees warned me. “When he ignores you, he is going to fire you.” So I knew.

The Time I Had to Quit

My next job was as an office manager at an international oil and gas service company. I truly enjoyed working there, making lasting friendships and learning a good deal about an industry that I had always had an interest in but never the opportunity to explore. I was assistant to the Country Manager, HR Manager, Sales Manager, and International Project Manager, which exposed me to every aspect of the industry, and I loved it. But little did I know I’d be thrown into yet another minefield when we were bought out by a much larger company at the very time that the HR manager took a two-month sabbatical.

To be clear, I do not have a background in HR, and managing a situation of this magnitude for more than a month while the real HR manager worked out her situation, was a nightmare. My days were filled with giving people notice as their positions were now redundant and their services were no longer needed. One particularly memorable morning, I received a call from a field manager who had fired an engineer after a third alcohol test came back positive. The first two tests were negative, and the whole situation was poorly handled. The manager did not like this engineer and was very open about his feelings, and the multiple tests were problematic. Nevertheless, Don, the Country Manager, asked that I draw up the paperwork to fire him. I called our lawyer, and after a lengthy explanation, he agreed that letting this employee go would very likely trigger a wrongful dismissal suit. Proud of my foresight and due diligence, I marched into Don’s office to share my findings. I had not said more than a few words when he looked at me in exasperation (he was late for his daily squash game) and said, “Why don’t you just shut up and do your job.”

I was shocked, and I was crushed. I thought I was doing my job, and not only that, I was doing someone else’s job and trying to do it as best as I could. I walked out of his office fighting back tears, but I did as I was told and wrote up the dismissal papers, knowing it had a high probability of landing a lawsuit. It did. A few months later, the engineer sued the company, won a six-figure settlement, and used that money to start a competing business. A few months after that I quit as I was never going to succeed in a workplace where I was not heard or respected.

The Second Time I Was Fired

At 52, I found myself in what seemed like an exciting new role—helping a media company build its digital agency. From the outside, it looked like a perfect match for my skills and experience. But almost immediately, I knew I had made a mistake. The management team wasn’t open to new ideas, had no understanding of digital products, and failed to grasp the importance of scalability. It became painfully clear that, just like my oil and gas experience, they didn’t want innovation—they wanted me to “shut up and do my job.”

To make matters worse, they couldn’t deliver on their promises. A simple five-page WordPress website took them eight months to complete. There were no systems in place, no processes to streamline work, and no commitment to real growth. I had intended to quit but just as I was eyeing that “last straw”, the company brought on one of my long-time partners who had the capability to scale and might possibly turn it around.  Unfortunately it was too little, too late, and with management having no idea what I could or should be doing, they chose eliminate the position and with it, me.

Learning to Trust My Instincts

These experiences taught me invaluable lessons. First, that I could never thrive in environments where I was expected to suppress my voice or be someone’s punching bag. And second, that I am not, and never have been, built to work for someone who does not share my desire to explore, learn and try new things.

Being fired wasn’t the end—it was the beginning of something better. It took time, but I eventually embraced my true calling as an entrepreneur. I realized that my so-called “unemployability” was actually a strength, allowing me to carve out a path that fit who I truly am.

A New Chapter: Unapologetically Unemployable

Today, I run my own business, proud of my diverse background and the experiences that shaped me. I’m not afraid to speak up, take risks, or challenge the status quo. I’ve built something that reflects my values, my voice, and my passion.

Being unemployable doesn’t mean I lack skills or ambition. Quite the opposite—it means I’ve developed the grit and resilience to go my own way, to create opportunities instead of waiting for them to come to me. For anyone else out there who feels like they just don’t fit the corporate mold, know this: you don’t have to.

Sometimes the best thing that can happen to you is getting fired. It may just lead you to the life you were always meant to live.