The Biggest Career Lie I Believed About “Security”

To start this piece, which could very well turn into a rant, I am going to tell a very long story in one sentence. For years I was told that as an entrepreneur, founder, or solopreneur, I was living a life on the edge.

Let me get into it. There were always questions. How do you find customers? What about your pension? Where is your sense of belonging? And to be fair, these are not bad or invalid questions. They are important. What I have struggled with, however, is the solution that was always presented on the other side. Employment. The same secure, stable, forever path.

Over time, I think I internalized that narrative more than I realized. A few years ago, I made what felt like a grown up decision. I stepped into what I thought was the safer side. Employment. Stability. Security. Adulthood. And honestly, what a ride that turned out to be.

But before I go further, I want to set the stage. This is my story. My work has mainly been within business advisory, sustainability, and marketing. I have not been in roles that would be classified as essential in a crisis like Covid. And I am not saying that one path is better than the other. Employment and entrepreneurship both have their place. What I am questioning is the simplicity of the narrative. I believe the picture we paint needs to be far more nuanced.

As some of you may know, I recently stepped out of employment and back into running my own business. I cannot go into detail about specific situations, partly because of the unspoken rules around loyalty to employers, even when that loyalty is not always returned or protected. In one case, I was let go in ten minutes. No warning, no explanation, no space for dialogue. In another, I, as the leader, was forced to act equally poorly to an employee due to senior leadership above me.

Even though I have moved on, that experience left me with a question I cannot ignore. How safe is employment, really.

We often talk about employment as an exchange. You give your time and your competence, and in return you receive a salary and stability. But in reality, it is rarely that simple. Your voice becomes more limited. You cannot always say what you think. You sometimes need permission for things that extend into your own time. Each time you change jobs, you change email, systems, pension structures, titles, and often parts of your identity. You start over, again and again.

If you look at your life as a long-term journey, or even as a personal brand, it raises questions. What are you actually building that lasts? What is truly yours? What carries over time.

I am starting to believe that the idea of entrepreneurship as a risky path might be on its head. One thing that consistently defines entrepreneurs is their ability to create opportunities. To find work. To generate income in different ways.

If I look at my own situation over the past month, it becomes very clear. I have not landed a single job interview, even though I still apply for roles I find interesting. At the same time, I have brought in five new clients to my own business.

That contrast says something.

So what if the most resilient path in a volatile world is not to place all our trust in a single employer, but to invest in ourselves. In our name. Our skills. Our relationships. Our ability to create value in different contexts.

A strong network, if nurtured, does not disappear because of a bad quarterly report. Your reputation does not get restructured overnight. Your skills do not get revoked.

I think more of us could benefit from building something alongside whatever path we choose. A side project. A set of skills. A platform. Something that is truly ours and that compounds over time.

I am not saying I will never be employed again. But if I am, I will approach it differently. With more awareness. With clearer boundaries. I will hold on to parts of my freedom, my voice, and my identity.

Because if there is one thing I am no longer willing to do, it is to hand over everything I build to someone else.

Unless, of course, it is to my kids or my cats.

What are you building today that will still be yours in five years?

With love,

Alexandra Nash