Which Job Is It Today?

The other day my mother-in-law called while I was leaving work and asked, “From which job?” That made me pause and think because she honestly didn’t know. And I couldn’t really blame her. Most people in my life aren’t totally sure what I do—and to be fair, some days I’m not entirely sure myself.

I’ve been a therapist, an HR director, a divorce mediator, a life coach, a career coach, a workshop facilitator, and a writer. I’ve supported clients through separation, career pivots, life transitions, and people who just needed someone to help them breathe and think clearly again. I’ve spoken on stages. I’ve helped people figure out what’s next when nothing made sense. And yet, at one point, I even considered going to law school. My father is a lawyer and for a while I convinced myself that maybe that’s what I was meant to do. I didn’t apply, but the thought lingered in the back of my mind. That was yet another version of me that could have existed.

A few nights ago, my daughter said to me, “I could never do what you do, handling so many different types of jobs.” I told her the truth: “It probably looks like a lot from the outside, but for me, it’s all connected. Everything I do is rooted in one thing: helping people move forward. That’s the thread that’s always been there.”

Still, it’s not always easy to explain that thread to the outside world. We live in a culture that loves neat titles and elevator pitches. We want the person we’re talking to at a simcha to say, “I’m a lawyer,” or “I’m a physical therapist,” or “I’m in real estate.” That’s it. Done. Understood. But try saying, “I help people through emotional transitions, professional confusion, and deeply personal stuck points in their lives,” and you’ll get polite nods and confused smiles.

A Pew Research Center study recently found that 53 percent of Americans have changed their field of work at least once, and 30 percent have done it more than once. The idea of staying in one role your whole life is no longer the norm. We know that. We talk about reinvention all the time. But what we don’t talk about is how mentally and emotionally exhausting it is to keep reinventing yourself. We don’t talk about the identity whiplash that happens when you know you’re evolving but the world keeps asking you to pick a lane. For people like us there are no clear roadmaps. There’s just curiosity, courage, and a whole lot of improvising.

One of my favorite ridiculous moments was when I was trying to update my LinkedIn profile a few years ago. I had just transitioned from HR to mediation, and I wanted my page to reflect that change. But every time I wrote something, it felt incomplete. If I wrote “Mediator,” it ignored everything else I was still doing. If I wrote “Coach,” it left out the depth of my training. If I wrote “Passionate professional with a background in therapy and conflict resolution,” it sounded like I was applying for a summer internship. I eventually closed my laptop and walked away. I think it still says something vague like “Helping people navigate transitions.” Which, to be honest, could mean anything from career support to helping someone decide what to eat for dinner.

Recently, a friend of mine introduced me to a concept called “rest and digest.” She had twins at 42, left a high-pressure job, and told me she’s letting her body guide her next steps. “Your body already knows the answer,” she said. “You just have to get quiet enough to hear it.” I nodded because I’ve heard that kind of thing before. But I told her, “I’ve been trying to get quiet for years, and I still haven’t heard anything. I’ve done the walks. I’ve journaled. I’ve meditated. I’ve lit candles. I’ve sat in silence. Where is this answer everyone keeps talking about? Am I missing something? Will I ever actually hear it?”

She smiled and said, “Maybe it’s still on the way.”

It took me a long time to separate what I actually want from what I think I’m supposed to want. There’s so much noise around what a career should look like, what success is supposed to mean, what path is respectable or impressive or worth explaining at a Shabbos table. And if you’re not careful, it’s easy to build a life that checks every box except the one that matters: Does this feel right to me?

I’ve learned that trusting the process isn’t about sitting back and waiting for answers to fall into your lap. It’s about taking the next step that feels honest, even if it doesn’t look strategic from the outside. It’s about letting your heart guide you more than your résumé. It’s about giving yourself permission to evolve, to listen, to say “This no longer fits.” And then to walk away, even when people don’t understand why.

The path isn’t always clear, but that doesn’t mean you’re lost. Sometimes not knowing is a sign that you’re finally listening.

I’ve come to accept that I may never have one neat title that sums up my life’s work. And that’s not a crisis; it’s a sign of a layered life. I don’t need a fixed label to know I’m doing meaningful work. I don’t need everyone else to understand for it to be real. The people I work with know. The women who come to me in the middle of reinvention know. The clients navigating a divorce or figuring out their career path or just trying to survive another season of life: they know. And that’s enough for me.

So no, I don’t have one job. I have a purpose that takes different forms. And maybe it doesn’t look tidy from the outside. But from where I’m standing, it looks like a life I built by trusting myself one decision at a time.

And if someone calls and asks, “Which job is it today?” I’ll probably smile, take a deep breath, and say, “Depends on what time of the day it is.” 

Tamara Gestetner is a certified mediator, psychotherapist, and life and career coach based in Cedarhurst. She helps individuals and couples navigate relationships, career transitions, and life’s uncertainties with clarity and confidence. Through mediation and coaching, she guides clients in resolving conflicts, making tough decisions, and creating meaningful change. Tamara is now taking questions and would love to hear what’s on your mind—whether it’s about life, career, relationships, or anything in between. She can be reached at 646-239-5686 or via email at [email protected]. Please visit TamaraGestetner.com to learn more.