A few months ago, I began answering the question, “What do you do?” with “I’m a writer.” And though I’m still not 100% convinced, the answer now comes more readily—I say the words confidently, without hedge or hesitation.
Often, the asker will find my answer incomplete, “But what do you do?” Easy: “I write a newsletter and have a full-time job working for a published author.” Excitement: “So what do you do for the author? Do you ghostwrite for them?” A pause: “No, not exactly. I’m part of a team that helps maintain his online business. He’s got a blog, and he sells online personal development courses.”
At this point, I’m fully aware that the asker still has no idea what I actually do. Sometimes they’ll ask and I’ll offer a vague: “I create content and manage projects.” And this is where the conversation typically ends, awkwardly and unsatisfyingly, and we both tacitly agree to move on to less choppy waters.
A job with no description
I find it very difficult to explain my job to others. The role I was hired for back in 2020 was Content and Research Assistant. Then, my job responsibilities were evident: I researched and helped write stuff.
But as the years wore on, my role evolved. I stopped doing research and took on new responsibilities. I manage the member webinars, make sure content gets published when and where it should, make suggestions, hunt typos, among other things. A few weeks back, I wanted to update my job position on LinkedIn—“Content and Research Assistant” no longer describes what I do. But I had no idea what to call myself instead. My job is to do whatever needs doing. And I don’t have a good word for that.1
For the first time in my life, I’ve ended up in a job with no description. There is no list of bullet points that specify the scope of my role. My job is entirely what I make of it. No longer do I get projects handed down from my boss, then instructions on what to do. I propose the projects, then I give myself instructions to carry out, to the timeline that I set.
There is enormous leeway in what I can be doing with my time. And because I manage the projects myself, I alone control my working hours. There is no client to answer to, no last-minute deadlines, no need for overtime. My work-life balance has never been better.
It’s easy if you know how
But it’s not easy.
In fact, it’s the most difficult job I’ve ever had.
In my past roles, I always knew what to do. If I was assigned a project or task I’d never done before, I’d get briefed on how to do it by my manager or an experienced colleague, and my hand would be held every step of the way, with immediate feedback at weekly check-ins.
Not anymore.
Now, each time I propose a new project and put my hand up for it, I get a blank slate—my writer’s blank page. It’s up to me to figure out what to do. I have my colleagues’ past experience and expertise to lean on, but it’s up to me alone to come up with a game plan, execute, adapt, and evaluate.
A lot of the times, it’s staring at a blank Google Document until ideas come. It’s writing down the steps I think are needed to make something work, then realizing a few weeks later that I had it all wrong. It’s trying to make sense of unhelpful Help pages and chatting with 7 different support agents to answer a simple question that no one has the answer to. It’s coming off work at the end of the day with a brain turned into mush from all the processing demands I’d inflicted upon it.
A lot of the times, it’s scary and frustrating. Scary because I don’t know if I’m doing it right, frustrating because every little task takes forever when you don’t know what you’re doing.
And then suddenly—as if at the wave of a magic wand—everything makes sense. I’ve figured it out, and from then on everything is easy. The project practically runs itself—things get done (by me) exactly when they need to be, like clockwork. I know what I’m doing.
Then I put my hand up for another project, and it starts all over again.
What do you think?
I had the idea for this newsletter while working on a new project I put my hand up for. As of this writing, I’m still waiting for the wave of the wand. I know what I’m doing more than when I started, but I still don’t really know what I’m doing. Each week puts a new piece of the puzzle into place, and I’m slowly getting there.
Do you know what you’re doing at work?
Are you in a well-defined role with well-defined bullets and plenty of guidance? Do you wish for more freedom knowing the anxiety it might entail? Or are you in a job with no description like me, and taking it one day at a time? What secrets can you share to make the magic wand appear? Send a reply, leave a comment, share this with someone who could never explain to you what they do for a living.
Until next Friday… Stay thoughtful,
Val
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash
Which is why, on LinkedIn, my position is now a vague but entirely accurate “Team Member.”
Arguably, as we progress through our careers, our jobs will become less well-defined. As you gain more experience and broaden your skills, you will take jobs that have rough guides but a lot of uncharted territory that you have to define on your own.