Rewriting our own career story

Until relatively recently, I was not particularly proud of my own story. I also did not see anything special in it. And despite others actually admiring parts or all of it, on some level, I was somewhat ashamed of the clearly non-linear path I have taken over my 15-year career. Of illogical choices. Of not following the prescribed and the obvious.

I also did not see myself as particularly employable. Employers tend to look for more linear careers, for paths that follow logical steps and progression. And mine didn’t.

Now, I have chosen a different path, and I do not plan to be employed in a traditional full-time role anytime soon - but had I tried to apply for a role where the fit wasn’t obvious, and struggled to get one, it would have been easy to assume what the “problem” was. Me not ticking specific boxes. Not having the “right” experience. Not enough leadership positions or people I directly managed. Or something along those lines.

It would have been easy to assume that the outcome had everything to do with facts, credentials, skills, and circumstances - and nothing to do with me. Nothing to do with the way I see myself, how I think about my career, or the story I tell myself and others about it.

And this is what I want to explore today: how the way we see, value, and tell our own story influences career outcomes, especially during transitions.

The “Lucky Ones”

In my experience, we tend to focus on the outside parts of the equation. It is easier that way. There is usually not much we can do about those factors, and so they do not feel like our responsibility.

But when it comes to job searches and career transitions, the truth is that there are people who consistently land great opportunities. Often unannounced ones. Opportunities others never even hear about. People who seem to “have it easy.” You know, “the lucky ones.”

So what is it about them? Are they smarter? More capable? More qualified? Or are they really born under a lucky star?

One of my favourite quotes is Henry Ford’s: “Whether you think you can or you can’t, you’re right.” I would like to build on that. Because it’s not only about believing we can do something. It’s about the belief we hold about ourselves, our abilities, and, crucially, about the career path we’ve taken so far.

Are we proud of it? Do we see it as coherent, valuable, and meaningful? Or do we see it as something we need to justify, explain away, or apologise for?

That belief defines what we consider achievement, what we label as success or failure, and how harsh or gentle our inner critic is allowed to be. This applies to most people, but it is particularly characteristic of high achievers, whose standards, for themselves and others, tend to be high.

When Belief Shrinks

How does this show up in practice?

We play small. We don’t recognise our strengths enough. We don’t celebrate our achievements long enough, if at all.

We start believing the story that was told to us, directly or indirectly, by others: their perception of us, our abilities, and what they consider achievement. Over time, we internalise it.

If we were lucky enough to start our careers surrounded by supportive people and encouraging managers, people who could see our potential and were willing to grow us, that belief can shape an entire career trajectory. At such an early and vulnerable stage, when we are fresh out of school and know little about the job market, that kind of belief is priceless.

But what if that wasn’t the case?

What if (for internal or external reasons) we repeatedly ran into managers who were not secure enough to let others thrive? Or who were driven by the wrong values? Or who themselves had been mistreated earlier in their careers and did not know differently?

We might collect a few scars along the way. We might retreat. We might give up on opportunities before we even pursue them.

And slowly, our belief in what we’re capable of doing shrinks - sometimes from a place where it wasn’t particularly strong to begin with. If we’re told often enough that something about us - the way we work, think, or are - is not good enough, we start believing it. Especially if it comes from superiors. Especially if it repeats.

Without much resistance - because we’re busy working, striving, building careers, chasing promotions - we internalise it all. It filters down to the identity level and becomes part of how we define ourselves professionally.

Most of the time, we’re not even aware that this story exists.

How It Shows Up in Transitions

This becomes very visible during job searches and career transitions.

We apply for a role we want, often having already identified all the boxes we do not tick. We prepare. We research the company. We rehearse answers. And yet, something still feels off.

The issue is rarely competence. More often, it’s that we are not at peace with our own story.

We may feel uncomfortable about a gap on our CV. Ashamed of a role we stayed in too long. Worried they might think we have changed jobs “too often.”

Even if we don’t speak about these things directly, and sometimes we actively avoid them, they still show up. In our energy. In our confidence. In hesitation. In how we frame our experience.

And that influences outcomes. Not only whether we get the offer, but which offer. Not only whether we win the client, but which client.

Sometimes we do get the role, the deal, the opportunity - but it’s not the right environment, team, or partner. Because the story we told did not fully reflect who we are.

Reframing the Story

So what is the way forward?

It’s not rewriting facts. It is reframing meaning.

It is acknowledging the achievements we have minimised. Giving weight to experiences we have dismissed. Integrating both the good and the difficult, because all of it shaped us into the professionals we are today.

From my own work, research, and experience with clients, I’ve learned that we are so often not even aware of the story we keep telling ourselves - yet it quietly runs our careers. Only once we acknowledge it, work through it, and consciously reshape it can we move forward with clarity and confidence.

Because our story doesn’t just explain where we’ve been. It defines what we believe is possible next. And once that shift happens, the path forward opens, with more ease, self-trust, and alignment than before.