If my father were still with us, today would mark his 65th birthday and his retirement. For a while now, I've known that today's blog post would be about him, but I wasn't sure which aspect of his life I should focus on.
I could share stories about how wonderful a person he was, but anyone who knew him already knows that. For those who didn't, I couldn't possibly convey it in such a short post.
I could write about how he was a perfect husband and father—but he wasn't, because no one is perfect. He was a real person, with flaws, imperfections, a lot of stubbornness, even more humor, boundless positive energy, and endless love. He was the perfect father for me/us. And the right partner for my mother.
Instead, I want to focus on his relationship with work because, after all, I'm now working as a career advisor myself.
Despite the fact that he would have turned 65 today, my father was ahead of his generation in his career mindset. He believed that no one should stay in the same job or position for too long because, after a certain point, the employee stops bringing anything new to the company, and the company stops developing the employee. If I remember correctly, four years was his ideal maximum for staying in a single role.
He always worked hard and gave his all, putting his heart and soul into everything he did. Yet, he would sometimes attend interviews just to see what others were offering—and if the opportunity was right, he didn't say no. This also allowed him to test himself and gauge the competition.
My father's career had its fair share of interesting shifts. He became a father young, so he had to start working early. His first job was as a childcare worker at a rural school. Later, in another village, he became a cultural director, then in a third, he worked as a cultural organizer and director. He was the type of person who loved a fast-paced life—people still talk about the amazing programs he organized in the village where I was born.
A few years later, he and my mother entered the insurance industry, and that's when his real Career with a capital "C" began. Although he originally only had a high school diploma, he went back to school to study advertising and marketing alongside my brother. By that time, he was already in his forties, with two children and a rising career. Thanks to the qualifications he earned, he quickly moved from being a successful agent to a branch manager, regional manager, and eventually director. He achieved this across four different insurance companies in three different cities.
When I think about my father's career, the words "growth" and "progress" inevitably come to mind. I'm sure I inherited my own drive for continuous improvement from him.
I also inherited my love for Mondays—he always said, "A new week holds new opportunities, a fresh start."
My positive outlook on life also comes from him, and my first daily quote probably sounds familiar to all his former colleagues: "Whether you think you can, or you think you can't—you're right." He often cited Ford's words to his team and to us, and when I doubted myself, he always reminded me that much of success happens in our minds.
Though he was often a walking embodiment of rationality, he deeply believed in the law of attraction and tried to spread his positive outlook to everyone around him.
Yet life's cruel irony is that even the most positive people can't always win. My father fought cancer for five long years, winning many battles but ultimately losing the war.
He's been gone for over seven years now—this is the eighth birthday we celebrate without him.
Although grief overwhelmed us in the beginning, we never forgot how upset he would have been if he knew we were sad.
These past few years have been easier. We don't mourn; we remember. We retell his jokes, laugh at old arguments, and every year, I eat a slice of cake—because he loved it. And today is no different.
I learned so much from him, and without him, I wouldn't be doing what I do today.
One of our last conversations set me on the path of career change. With the wisdom of a man in his mid-life, he looked at me and said, "You're okay with your job, but you don't enjoy it—and that's not good."
He advised me not to make the same mistake he did: not to work too long in a job I don't enjoy. He felt he'd wasted too much time on work that didn't matter and didn't leave enough time to truly enjoy the position he'd dreamed of reaching.
I took his advice, and after he passed away, I acted quickly. Call it fate, destiny, God, or life, but within a few weeks, I was already on the path I'm on now.
It took seven years to start: seven years of gaining experience, learning, and growing in self-awareness. But now I'm here, walking confidently toward my goals, and I'm grateful to my father for starting me on this journey—even though he didn't live to see it.
If you feel like you're ready to take the first step toward your own new career, feel free to contact me through any of the channels listed below.
Don't wait too long—life is too short for a job that isn't right for you.