unemployed, not useless (thanks for your concern, karen)

god forbid a girl doesn't care about what other people think

“Are you okay?” They ask as if unemployment is a terminal illness. As if my life is something to feel sorry for. As if two years out of uni without a full-time job means I’ve failed.

Yes, I am applying for jobs. Actively. Relentlessly, even. You try sending out application after application into the LinkedIn void and tell me how quickly you get results. The thing is, job hunting in this economy is more than just effort, sometimes, it’s timing. Sometimes, it’s luck. Also, the job market has been nothing but rough, and landing something full-time hasn’t been exactly easy.

Trust me— it’s not for lack of trying. So, while I’m in the waiting season, I’m not just sitting around like how some of you might assume. I’m building things, trying things, staying afloat, and growing in ways that aren’t traditional, like with a company lanyard, and awkward team-building exercises.

The Reality You Don’t See

One of the things that has been keeping me busy is reselling clothes on Vinted. My mum and I have been trying to declutter clothing items for ages, especially those that have been shoved down at the back of the closet and never seen the light of day. Sometimes, we pop by the “skip” to throw them away. But then I realised, why not sell them? Not only am I going to earn a little on the side, but these clothes will go to people who’d show them more love and appreciation.

I’ve also been managing my own personal social media pages (Instagram, TikTok, Substack, YouTube and all that bazinga), as well as a business, BodySoulBeautiful, that I co-founded with my mum. I help out some of my Dad’s clients with video editing, offering advice on growing an online presence and ways to digitally market. Or even as simple as starting up an Instagram account.

Apart from all of that, I need to find some sort of equilibrium in motion. So, I do what I know best. Dance. I learn new dances, not every day, but on most days. And I stay active by going to the gym— attending classes, doing weightlifting and pilates. Building a better version of myself.

And because my parents are at work five days a week, I take it upon myself to do some basic housekeeping, and sometimes general cleaning in some specific areas (e.g. deep cleaning the toilet on Mondays, hoovering the entire house on Wednesdays etc.) Of course, lastly, I’m applying for jobs.

Productivity vs. Perception

Apparently, unless I’m in a corporate office with a lanyard and a bad coffee, nothing I do counts as “real work.” Sorry to disappoint… But I’d rather be fulfilled and misunderstood than look successful and feel like I’m crumbling.

Productivity vs. Perception is basically a tension between what I’m actually doing (Productivity) and what others think I’m doing (Perception).

As I mentioned before, this is the real, lived experience. The “Productivity”:

• I’m reselling on Vinted and earning money.

• I’m managing multiple social media accounts, including one for a business I co-founded.

• I’m helping with content and online presence for clients.

• I’m dancing, going to the gym, keeping mentally and physically active.

• I’m job-hunting, receiving government support, and staying engaged with opportunities.

So no, I’m not just “sitting around.” I’m doing what I can with what I have. That is work. That is productivity.

Then there’s how outsiders (relatives, family friends, strangers) interpret my life:

• They hear “unemployed” and assume I’m “doing nothing.”

• They see me at home and think I’m idle.

• They equate “no full-time job” with “lack of ambition or direction.”

• They feel sorry for me, even though I’ve given them no reason to.

Apparently, unless I’m wearing a lanyard and making small talk at the office microwave, I’m doing nothing with my life.

Spoiler alert: that’s not how reality works.

Some people confuse visibility with value. Just because they don’t see my work doesn’t mean it’s not happening. Just because it doesn’t come with a paycheck (yet) or a fixed schedule doesn’t mean it’s not real. And frankly, this disconnect creates a strange pressure, not to do more, but to perform more. To make my life look more acceptable to others. To constantly explain, to justify, or to “prove” that I’m not failing.

And honestly? I don’t owe anyone a productivity performance just so they can feel better about where they think I should be by now.

My Perception

I just want to be clear that I’m not ashamed of where I am right now in my journey. I understand that it is a rough world out there, the job market is falling to pieces and the economy is going haywire. It is frustrating, yes. And sometimes, it does eat away at the back of my head that I’m running out of time, but that in itself is a myth. Because everyone moves at a different pace in their life.

I’m proud of the achievements I’ve made in the past few months. Even if they’re small, so tiny and so nanoscopic. But they’re my achievements and no one’s going to take that away from me. So, yes, I‘m proud of it. And sometimes, I just don’t want to talk about it. Not because I’m hiding, but because I’m living.

The Pressure to Perform for Other People’s Peace of Mind

There’s a specific kind of pressure that doesn’t get talked about enough. The pressure to look okay, so no one feels uncomfortable on your behalf.

Sometimes that pressure doesn’t even come from strangers. It comes from the people who love me. Like my mum.

And to be clear, it’s not because she doesn’t believe in me. It’s quite the opposite. She knows I’m working, applying, building, showing up. But I also know she hears the outside noise, like the “Is she okay?”s, the “What’s she doing now?”s and wants to control the narrative before someone else does. Not to manipulate it, but to protect it. To protect me. And maybe a little bit of herself— From pity, judgment, or those polite little head tilts that suggest I’m behind in some race I never agreed to run.

So instead of just existing, I feel like I have to explain my existence. To prove that I’m productive. Lay out my invisible to-do list like it’s a resume.

“No no, she’s not just unemployed. She’s managing socials! She’s reselling! She’s helping with editing! She’s learning dances, and yes, she’s applying for jobs!”

It becomes this exhausting performance of stability. Not because I feel unstable, but because I know how easy it is for other people to assume I am. And in trying to preempt their misinterpretation, I start performing a version of my life that makes them feel better, not me.

But here’s the truth: I’m allowed to just exist. I don’t owe anyone a PowerPoint presentation of my life choices. I’m not a project to be defended. I’m a person in progress. And that should be enough.

Even if it doesn’t sound impressive in small talk.

The Audacity of Not Caring

At some point, I realised the most radical thing I can do, especially when my life doesn’t come with a neat little label — is to simply not care.

To not over-explain.
To not soften your truth for someone else’s comfort.
To not shrink your story just because it doesn’t fit the standard plot.

And there is this magnificent power in living on my own timeline, doing things my own way, and refusing to turn my life into a performance for spectators who only look up from the sidelines to judge.

And yes… God forbid a girl just… doesn’t want to talk about it. Not because she’s ashamed, but because she’s busy. Because she’s building. Because she knows her worth doesn’t increase with other people’s approval.

So, I’m here to say it once and for all, I’m not here to be pitied. I’m not a project. And I’m definitely not waiting for anyone’s permission to feel proud of where I am.

Let them wonder.