Job hunting in your mid-30s isn’t just a search for a role—it’s a quiet battle against stereotypes, self-doubt, and the ticking clock of “what ifs.” At least, that’s how it felt when I dusted off my resume two weeks ago, took a deep breath, and hit “apply” for the first time in years.

 Today, I’m sitting here with three interview invitations in hand, and honestly? It feels like a victory lap.

Let me backtrack. Two weeks ago, I decided to stop overthinking and start doing. The job market has been tough lately—we all know that—and being over 35 adds a layer of anxiety I didn’t anticipate. Would employers see my experience as an asset, or would they fixate on a number? I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on one thing: showing up. Upload my resume on the Apps, waiting and expecting.

Fast forward to last week: my first interview. It was for a foreign trade sales role at a company that makes packaging bags. Everything went smooth, the boss is also from the Northern part, we talked about marking, clients, sales targets and so on. The interview lasted for half an hour. Absolutely. Walking out of that office, I felt a mix of relief and uncertainty. will I step in this area?

 Then came the second interview, and it was a curveball: a teaching position at a vocational high school , not your typical academic high school. I’d taught before, but vocational education felt like a new world—practical, hands-on, and focused on skills that translate directly to the workforce. I loved talking to the hiring team about their approach to education; it reminded me why I once dreamed of shaping young minds.

 And today? A phone call that made me smile so wide my cheeks hurt. It was for a teaching researcher role—an opportunity to combine my love for education with analysis and curriculum development. That one felt personal. It felt like proof that experience does count.

 Three interviews in two weeks. To some, that might sound unremarkable. But to me, it’s a reminder that progress isn’t always about grand gestures. It’s about sending that 10th application when you want to quit. 

For anyone else in their 30s (or beyond) navigating this tricky job market: I see you. I know the weight of that age bracket on your resume. I know the moments when you scroll through job listings and wonder if any of them were written with you in mind. But here’s what I’ve learned: resilience matters more than a birthdate. Every “no” (or even silence) is just a detour, not a dead end.

These interviews might lead to offers, or they might not. But right now, they’re fuel. They’re proof that I’m still in the game—and so are you.

 Here’s to the small wins. They’re the ones that keep us going.

Wish me good luck!