If You Feel Stuck in Life Right Now...Read This

When Doing Everything Right” Isn’t Enough

In this phase of my life, I’ve been struggling—a lot.

I graduated a year and five months ago with a business degree. Everything was on track. I had completed three internships, worked as an RA and received two “RA of the Year” awards, graduated cum laude, and built a wide range of project experience through personal development—more than many of my peers. I truly believed all of that would give me a head start. I expected some struggle, of course—maybe an entry-level job I didn’t love, but one that would lead somewhere better.

But as graduation approached, I still didn’t have any job leads.

At the same time, my most recent internship was affected by economic instability and uncertainty in the market. With no clear options, I packed my car with everything that would fit, gave away the rest of my belongings, and moved across the country to Arizona. At first, it felt exciting. It was a much bigger city than where I went to college, and I hoped that meant more opportunity. It was also scary—but having support at home made it feel possible. At least I wasn’t starting this chapter completely alone.

For the first few months, I applied sporadically, relying on the strategies I had learned from school and internship searches. But this wasn’t the same—full-time roles were much harder to break into than I expected. Within two to three months, I started looking for part-time work. I needed something to sustain me while I kept applying. I picked up substitute teaching, which was rewarding but exhausting and inconsistent. I also tried DoorDash for a short time, which gave me a new respect for people in that role—but it didn’t even cover my gas. So I kept searching.

Around seven months in, a recruiter reached out to me with what felt like an incredible marketing opportunity. I was genuinely excited. After multiple interviews, he told me I was one of the best candidates he had interviewed. Whether I built that up in my head or not, it gave me real hope.

I went through around six rounds of interviews and completed a project—only to be rejected. They said they wanted someone with more experience. I was crushed.

For the first time, I felt like all the work I had put in still wasn’t enough. And I took that to heart.

Soon after, I accepted a role as an administrative assistant. The people were kind, and it was a stable job—but it was also my first experience with full-time work after college, and the adjustment was harder than I expected.

Spending most of my day in an office instead of at home—with my cat, my family, or my hobbies—was a big shift. Having only about two weeks off per year felt even harder. “Generous PTO” didn’t feel generous at all. On top of that, the work itself wasn’t challenging. The reality of work culture in the U.S. felt grim. I knew I would need to work harder to eventually land a role that didn’t drain me.

I realized I could probably handle the structure of full-time work—but I needed to feel engaged. I needed something that pushed me. So I turned back to learning.

I started reading, studying, and trying to grow in a more intentional way. That’s when I came across the idea of “career capital”—the concept that skills and experience compound over time. It immediately clicked. It gave meaning to the hard days and reframed my mindset.

I began reaching out for freelance opportunities to build that experience—and eventually, I landed some. But trying to balance freelance work with a full-time job quickly became overwhelming. I felt stretched too thin, like I was drowning.

After three months, I made a difficult decision: I left my full-time job to focus on freelance work and find something part-time instead. Since I was living at home, I recognized that I had a rare opportunity to invest in myself—and I wanted to take it.

For a while, things felt like they were working. Then I lost my part-time job due to changes within the company that I couldn’t control. I still had some savings, and I was able to finish my freelance projects, but once again, I found myself starting over. Even though my portfolio and resume had improved more in a year than I thought possible, it still didn’t feel like enough.

I kept pushing. I didn’t rest. Rest felt like something I had to earn—and in my mind, I hadn’t earned it.

Eventually, that caught up to me, and I burned out. I was left exhausted. I couldn’t create, focus, or move forward at all. I hated that feeling—the feeling of being stuck.

Learning to Take the Next Step

That’s when I read Atomic Habits, and something shifted. It helped me build structure into my days and reduce friction around the habits I wanted to develop. But more importantly, it planted the seed for a simple idea that stuck with me: consistency matters more than urgency.

So I created a system.

I built a Google Classroom for myself, gave myself assignments during the week, and allowed myself weekends off. I started tracking habits, eating healthier, and taking better care of myself. Over time, I even lost weight. For a while, that structure gave me stability again.

I finished my last freelance project, and when it ended, I knew I needed to find another source of income. Then life added pressure.

My car broke down, and I realized I didn’t have the experience to know I should have added roadside assistance to my insurance. Suddenly, things felt urgent again.

So I returned to substitute teaching—but this time with a clearer intention: work part-time to support myself while continuing to build my skills. And this time, something was different.

I had learned how to tailor my resume, research industries, and refine my portfolio to highlight my strengths. By 2026, that effort started to show—I was getting about two interviews a month, which was a huge improvement from before. Still, the pressure didn’t go away.

As more time passed since graduation, I felt an increasing urgency to move forward—to reach milestones, to feel like I was progressing. Instead, I often felt stuck.

Then, in a simple conversation, someone told me, “Just keep swimming.” I had heard it a thousand times before—it shouldn’t have meant much, but it did.

It led me to explore Buddhist perspectives on presence—on focusing only on what’s in front of me, one step at a time. I started applying that mindset in small ways.

When I felt overwhelmed or unsure, I learned to bring my wandering mind back from the future into the present. I just have to take the next step.

Progress doesn’t always look dramatic. Sometimes it’s slow—like water shaping stone over time. You don’t see the change right away, but over time, water can carve canyons.

And I realized something important.

I had been so focused on outcomes that I forgot to live the life that was already happening.

Today is March 28, 2026.

I still haven’t figured everything out. I still feel stress. I still feel pressure.

But I don’t feel stuck anymore.

Because now, I understand that moving forward doesn’t require having all the answers.

It just requires taking the next step.