I Spent 20 Years Earning Titles. Losing Them Taught Me Everything.

Welcome to the first episode of Life Between Titles. I'm your host, Savan. This podcast is about the in-between. And what I mean by that is there's a space after one chapter ends and before the next one begins. It's really about the moments when we no longer define ourselves by our last title, but we haven't really stepped into the next one yet. And for some, it could be a few weeks, for others a few months. And then there's others where it could be even longer, a few years. But for everyone who's been through this process, there's one thing that's for sure, and that is disheartening and disorienting. I know this because I'm there right now. You see, for a long time, I've spent my career building things and helping people. I'm in the middle of this job search. I know this because I'm there right now. For the first time in my career, I'm in this middle of a search. I've led teams, built products, worked across government and technology. I've had lofty titles, you know, such as general manager, customer experience officer, UX director. And I've spent years helping organizations to move faster, connect better, serve more people more efficiently. But right now I'm... in between titles. And it's strange how quickly the world changes the way they see you. And quite frankly, how you see yourself. Think about it. How often do we introduce ourselves by what we do for a living? It's automatic. Hey, I'm Savannah. I do this or I work here. It's become ingrained in our culture as this main way of defining who we are. And so when that role disappears, Even temporarily, you're left asking, who I am? Think about it. How often do we introduce ourselves by what we do for a living? It's automatic. Hey, I'm Savan. I work at, or I may fill in the blank of whatever your title is. And it's strange how quickly that changes the way the world sees you and the way you see yourself. Think about it. How often do we introduce ourselves by what we do for a living? It's automatic. Hey, I'm Savan. I work at or I'm a whatever title you have. It's become this ingrained part of our culture as the main way we define ourselves. So when that role disappears, even temporarily, you're left asking a harder question. Who am I without that title? When I left my last role, I thought the transition would feel ⁓ freeing, a chance to rest, to reflect, to choose carefully. But what I didn't expect was a silence. The kind that comes after the introduction stop including your title and your job. The kind that makes you question your value when the structure of work no longer defines your day. I've talked to so many people recently who are in the same place, talented, experienced professionals, people with decades of value to offer, who are struggling to find their footing. They tell me how invisible it can feel, how each unanswered application chips away at their confidence. But they also talk about growth, about rediscovering themselves outside of work. And that's what this podcast is about. Each episode, I'll talk with people who are in the middle of the search, still trying to figure it out, still holding on to hope. We'll talk about what they're learning, how they stay resilient, and how they redefine themselves. We'll talk about what they're learning, how they stay resilient, and how they redefine themselves when that job title is gone. But for this first episode, be reflections from my own search. A hardest part isn't waiting itself. It's the uncertainty of identity that comes with it. When you go from being needed every day to suddenly having space, space feels very foreign. It first is a relief. You wake up with an alarm, you drink your coffee slowly, you tell yourself you've earned this break. You realize how much of your routine hardest part isn't waiting itself, it's the uncertainty of identity that comes with it. When you go from being needed every day to suddenly having space, that space feels very foreign. It first is a relief. You wake up without an alarm, you drink your coffee slowly, you tell yourself you've earned this break. But within a few weeks, that stillness becomes an echo. You realize how much of your routine was built around other people's needs, the meetings, the deadlines, the messages that shape your day. And you know what? For the first time in years, no one needs a decision from you. No one's waiting for your input. And that's when that quiet becomes louder and louder. For me, that quiet was both uncomfortable and revealing. I started to fill it with going to the gym or going for long walks. walk around my neighborhood, pass the same houses I would rush by because I was a little late for a meeting. But, you know, I've noticed things now that I didn't before. I noticed how fast it takes to get to a certain place, such as like dropping my daughter off at school, or when the leaves will turn a certain color. And what this waiting is doing is it's slowing me down enough to understand the value that I'm getting. from my everyday life. For me, the quiet has been both uncomfortable and revealing. I started filling it with long walks and going to the gym. I'd walk through my neighborhood, past the same houses. I used to rush by to meetings. I notice now the smell of the morning coffee and the sound of the kids heading to school and when people go on their walks. And I've realized I've built a life so structured around work that I'd stop noticing my own life from happening. Waiting does something important. It slows you down enough to really see who you are when the noise stops. It gives you time to ask, if no one is defining my value right now, how do I define it for myself? And that's really where the real work begins. A second thing is. The job market today demands a kind of patience that few of us were trained for. You send in applications, usually don't hear anything back. You spend hours preparing for interviews that end with polite silences. I've been on both sides of this hiring table. I've built teams, reviewed thousands of resumes, and now I'm waiting for that one email that says, thank you for your application, but we're going to move forward with a different candidate. And. The irony isn't lost on me. This process can feel very dehumanizing. You start to question whether the years of work, the impact, the leadership, even registers anymore. But this kind of waiting forces a certain clarity. You start to see what you actually want instead of what you've been conditioned to chase. I'll say that again. You'll start to see what you actually want. versus what you've been conditioned to chase. Early in my career, I said yes to anything and everything that had a lofty title. If it stretched me, I went for it. Early in my career, I said yes to everything that looked impressive. Titles, scope, responsibility. If it stretched me, I went for it. Now I'm learning to ask different questions, not is this a big job for me, but is this the right job? Does it align with what I care about? Does it let me create something that lasts? Does it feel honest? I had a conversation recently with a friend, a former executive who's also searching. He said, The hardest part isn't being out of work. It's sitting in your own company long enough to hear what you actually want next. And that stuck with me. Because that's what this stage demands. Patience with the process, but also patience with yourself. If you're in the middle of a job search right now, you know it takes resilience. But that resilience isn't just about enduring the waiting. It's about refusing to let the system shrink your sense of worth. And really, there's an unexpected gift when life slows down, and that is that your creativity wakes up. When I was fully consumed by work, my mind was always in motion, but rarely ever imaginative. Every thought I had was functional. Solve this, deliver that, meet the deadline, close these tickets. Now in this in-between space, I've rediscovered curiosity. This podcast was born from that space. I kept having conversations with people who were in between roles, people who felt invisible, but were saying things that were deeply human and wise. And one day it hit me, these stories needed to be heard. If I'm struggling with this identity and purpose in this stage, I know others are too. But this isn't just about creating a podcast. Creativity can look like reconnecting with things you used to love, but started to write again. Not for the job or anything that makes money, but for clarity and creativity. I've been mapping new ideas on how new technology and public service can work more but it's not about just creating a podcast. Creativity can look like reconnecting with things that you used to love. I've started writing again, not for a job, but for clarity. I've begin to map new ideas for how technology and public service can work together more humanly. I've also been learning how to rest. And that's been probably the hardest part. Resting allows you to become creative. That's where creativity takes root. And giving yourself the grace to be able to have a moment of time, to be able to rest and recharge is incredibly important to this experience. Some of the most innovative moments in history have come from people in transition, people between jobs, people between ideas, between lives. That's the space that holds possibility. When your identity fades and the new one hasn't just formed yet, your imagination finally gets a seat at that table. So if you're in between and looking for something, don't rush it. Create something small. Write down what you've learned. Call someone else who has been searching? The act of creating doesn't erase uncertainty, but it does make it meaningful. Thank you for listening to the first episode of Life Between Titles. Please share this with someone who just might need to hear it, because together we'll turn the waiting into something meaningful.