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I studied Business and Japanese in college, assuming that the business studies would get me a job (or help me start a company) and the Japanese would allow me to be well-paid or have a unique selling point. Later, I realised I was looking for a way to get ahead—a competitive advantage. Studying Japanese was the only way I knew how to do that. 

If I knew then what I know now, as the saying goes, I would have asked myself, "Is this what employers actually want?". Or maybe even "have you checked the local job market to see if Japanese is a common skill requirement?" (spoiler alert: it's not a common requirement where I'm from). There are only a few instances where you need a native English speaker who speaks Japanese instead of a native Japanese speaker who can speak English. And in my case, there certainly weren't many roles for people who had passed university Japanese and had a basic command of the language in a business context. To put it bluntly, I didn't have a chance of landing a job with my language skills. 

In hindsight, I would have been much better off learning to excel at in-demand skills in the market where I was job hunting. The problem was that I only knew about a tiny corner of the job market and everything in that corner sounded boring or confusing. But what else was there? Although I had thoroughly enjoyed the Japanese course, had super lecturers and met many great people, it wasn't the right path for me going forward. 

So, the struggle was real, the vision was vague, and the path was non-existent. I didn't know what I was good at, what I could do, what jobs were available, where to look, how to look, or what was going to make me happy. I had no vision of how I could set out on a long, miserable journey to somewhere I didn't want to be. One of the worst parts was that I wanted to work hard and was prepared to do almost anything, but I felt unprepared and worthless. At one point, I was even considering taking an offer to work in a Slovakian call centre as a Japanese/English customer care assistant. The role was below the Irish minimum wage, but somehow, they were interested in my barely passable, patchy Japanese! In the end, they chose someone else! 

Although this felt like adding insult to injury, ultimately, I ended up dodging a bullet. To sum up: I was living with my parents (who are lovely, but it's not what I wanted in my 20s); I had no idea what to do with my life and had just been rejected from the one terrible job offer that I was considering. I was unemployed, depressed, confused, hopeless and incredibly frustrated. It was a real low point.

So I guess you could say that I started in the working world feeling totally disenchanted by what I experienced compared to my expectations. It was far from a solid first step! Maybe it was because I didn't have relevant role models, perhaps I was stuck in the college mindset of attending classes and enjoying long summers, or maybe I didn't take the time to figure it all out. I wish I had someone to talk me through everything because I had no idea where to start. 

To be fair, I had thought about a career in music for a long time as it was still a passion of mine. While still at school, I went to see a music producer and asked him about joining the course. He was terrific—very open and direct with me. He told me it was a challenging career where many people struggled but encouraged me to pursue it if I had the motivation. The main suggestion he gave me was to become excellent at playing an instrument. So I dedicated myself to excelling at classical guitar. I took lessons with a local teacher, watched endless videos online, studied both popular and classical pieces and committed hours to practice. While I was making significant progress, I still couldn't see how it would fit into the overall plan.  

Later, I decided to play the guitar in cafés and restaurants, which was a great experience and taught me a lot about business, but it didn't suit me for numerous reasons. It wasn't just that the nature of the work was precarious; it was more because it meant I had to spend a lot of time practising alone. I remember meeting the professional classical guitarist Ana Vidović in Dublin and asking her how long she spends practising each day. "Maybe an hour or two on scales and four/five hours overall". Eek! Instantly, I knew I was way out of my depth, and this wasn't something I could pursue, even at the café/restaurant level—too much solitude and not the sort of lifestyle that I wanted.

As I was making almost no progress with my search for a rewarding career, a friend from school called me and suggested that we go to Australia to join up with a group of friends who were already out there. I jumped at the opportunity to travel, meet new people, and get away from my lack of options at home. I reckoned that if I had to do something I wasn't interested in, I may as well do it in a nice place. The logic made sense then, but in reality, I was plastering over the cracks in my career and life. I had no vision, no direction and no plan. I had postponed every critical decision, and it showed. I spent an aimless year in Australia working part-time jobs in bars, cafes and a bookshop. I didn't do well in any of them—after only a few weeks, I was fired from my barista job. My approach wasn't working, and suddenly, neither was I. 

From there, it didn't get much better. My next job in a gastro pub involved general bartending duties like making coffee and cocktails and advising customers on wine choices. I was capable of pouring pints as I'd done plenty of that before, but making coffee and cocktails, along with giving wine selection advice, required skills that eluded me and knowledge that is still outside my grasp. In addition to that concoction of incompetence was my lack of training—I was terrible at my job, and I knew it, but it wasn't for want of trying. 

My poor performance and lack of skills resulted in the supervisor trying to manage me out. For those unfamiliar with the term, managing out refers to when management makes an employee's working life so unpleasant that the employee decides to quit. Some employees aren't aware that this is a management tactic, even though they may be the victim of it. It's pretty tricky to legally sack a worker (in some countries) even if an employee is underperforming; that's why a company's management has to use covert strategies to make life unpleasant for the person. This process can include: criticising an employee's work repeatedly and never giving them credit; not supporting them in learning or developing; keeping them out of communication loops; ignoring their requests, or making their working life difficult in general. Of course, those actions could be bad management which is why it's important to discuss the issues to find the real problem.

My supervisor was a cool guy, but his remit required him to run a tight ship, and despite my best efforts, I was standing in the way of that. He routinely put me under pressure, didn't explain things well and made few efforts to help me learn. I had to ask myself, "Am I being managed out?" He was an experienced professional, and I was an amateur. Then one day, when I couldn't take it anymore. I told him that he could continue treating me as he was doing, but that would result in us both looking bad. Alternatively, he could help me learn, and I'd promise to do the best I could. It was his choice. Either way, I was there to stay. 

That was a turning point because it marked the moment when he knew he couldn't manage me out. His only alternative was to help me, and he did so with immediate effect. He began by teaching me to make an Affogato (an Italian dessert with coffee and ice cream), and just like that, I was back on the right track. I never held it against him as I knew he was only doing his job. There are two sides to every story. While he had responsibility to drive the business forward while maintaining high standards, from my perspective, I dreaded coming to work every day, received little recognition and had almost no learning opportunities.

I've always believed the onus is on both the employee and employer. It's up to the employee to do an honest day's work for an honest day's pay, and to be diligent and responsible. If they are unhappy with their training or skill level, they should seek advice and guidance either internally or externally. They should find out precisely what their superior considers to be satisfactory work and endeavour to match those expectations, within reason. If they are dissatisfied with the company or work, they should actively plan to move on as soon as possible. And it's up to the employer to train and support employees—while stating what is expected of them from day one. If the employee isn't the right fit for the organisation, the company can provide training and support to help them move on. That way, even if the employee stays, they will, at least, be better trained. In my case, I was stuck: uninformed, low on options and worried about unemployment. Once again, my lack of direction haunted me.  

Knowing that bar work wasn't part of my long term plan, I went back home to Ireland. These were particularly tough months—working short term jobs I had no interest in while trying desperately to plan my next move. All my friends seemed to have figured out what they were going to do: work for the family business, complete a master's degree, enlist in a graduate program, find a job or travel abroad. All I knew was that I wanted to do something I enjoyed and work hard at it. I was nervous about making a wrong move and felt utterly lost. With no direction or income, I quickly became disheartened and depressed. My parents tried valiantly to help in the best ways they could: supporting me and coming up with options, but nothing seemed to work. 

I wonder how I would have guided myself if I was my own client. Perhaps, it would have been easy, and I'd quickly see the light, or maybe I'd be the most stubborn challenge. I know that I've always had strong beliefs—even though they haven't always been empowering. If I only had one minute to advise my younger self, I'd say, "read books, speak to people about what they do, try as many jobs as possible and figure out what you've got to offer. If  after that, you've still no idea what to do—work hard at something else in the meantime. You don't need a perfect plan to start; take the next step and learn as you go. While you're at it, why not study the pathways of others, consult a career coach, and read some career development books!". It's a good idea to tackle any problem from multiple angles. 

So I ended up doing odd jobs here and there, including everything from gardening and window cleaning to bar work and even roofing. I wasn't particularly good at any of them (which is still the case), but I was a hard worker, so people cut me some slack. I asked myself, "how am I going to get out of this?". This was a great question which made me decide to make a big change. It could have turned out awfully, but it was a game-changer. I woke up one day, and the decision was made. "I'm going to Japan!". 

This move forced me out of my comfort zone again. Actually, it was more like a familiarity zone as nothing about it was comfortable. I booked the flights and headed off without a job and only some sparse savings. While living in a hostel in Tokyo for a month, I was offered a job teaching English in a language school. I wouldn't say I liked the work very much, but the people were great and more importantly, I was working and earning money. Even though I knew it wouldn't be a long-term solution, it was a solid next step.  

Throughout my stay in Japan, I continued to look for jobs and attend the occasional interview but with no success. I couldn't even tell you the jobs I was applying for, which should tell you how much planning I had put in. I remember getting on the subway and feeling anonymous with all the other business people going into the skyscrapers of downtown Tokyo. At my core, I knew it wasn't for me. Then one day, out of nowhere, my brother offered me a job working for his company in Ireland. I'd been dealt a get-out-of-jail-free card, and I jumped at it with both hands. 

Neither of us knew what I would do, but we were both very confident it would work out well. Maybe overconfident! Working for my brother's athlete development company allowed me to develop new skills while learning about business and the sports industry. It provided a gateway for me to spend time with groups of professionals following their passion—whether they were strength and conditioning coaches, nutritionists or physiotherapists. It was truly an eye-opening experience. Their dedication to their work was inspiring, and l loved being part of such an energetic environment. 

My role involved various tasks including administration, marketing, operations, sales, product, and event management. To say I was out of my dept would be an understatement. But on the plus side, I was provided with a huge amount of autonomy, decision-making authority and involvement in the overall business strategy and direction. 

I'd gone from not having any direction myself to trying to figure out the direction of a startup! It was the blind leading the blind. I made up for what I lacked in experience and skill with an abundance of enthusiasm and effort. I worked long and hard and even had some success. 

The company went from strength to strength, but not without many challenges. Our service was top class despite our operations were lagging behind. Then one day while lunch at my desk, I picked up a book on Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman. I became fascinated by the ideas within and how they could improve the lives of people who implemented them. 

Learning that people with a good emotional quotient (EQ) had a better chance of succeeding in their careers surprised me. I always had seen work as a black and white endeavour—a world of hard skills, where the most productive people with the highest intelligence reigned supreme. It turned my understanding of career development upside down, and instantly, I was hooked on personal and professional development.

From there, I just started reading book after book, totally engrossed in each one. I didn't know that I had begun to pursue a new career, and it certainly wasn't a conscious effort on my part, but it led to me discussing each title with almost everyone I met. My sister suggested I speak to her friend and coach, Elga. She was amazing. Asking questions, taking notes and above all, listening. She provided a space for me to expand my thoughts and dig deep into what was important. 

Reflecting on it now, it seemed like a bit of a blur, and I can't remember the exact content of the conversations, but I remember feeling very empowered after them. Soon after, I left my job in my brother's company and moved to Spain, fulfilling a dream I'd had for years. 

My plan was to teach English as a freelancer—this experiment allowed me to get a feel for what it was like working for myself while giving me enough time to study a couple of coaching courses in my downtime. I knew that teaching conversational English wouldn't max out my mental capacity and would allow enough brainpower to devote to my next steps.  

The whole journey was exhilarating—I consumed every bit of information I could, watched videos online, made notes feverishly and enlisted friends and contacts to do practice coaching sessions. Gradually building up my confidence, I decided that I needed to practice what I preached, so I held a workshop in the city centre of Madrid. 

Most of the participants were either friends or students of mine, but I managed to get almost 30 people in the room. Even though it was a small number, it was huge to me. It was proof that I could get a result if I took massive action. On top of that, it showed me that people were interested in what I had to offer. Both of these facts helped build my confidence and progress my business. 

This proved to me that I was doing something right and that if I kept on improving, I could increase my numbers and work with even more people. And so my journey began…