Why ‘Find A Job You Love And You’ll Never Work A Day In Your Life’ Is B.S.

“Find a job you love and you’ll never have to work a day in your life.”

Ever since I entered the workforce about a decade ago, I’ve noticed versions of this expression on inspirational posters, mugs, online memes, laptop stickers and more. The phrase speaks to the idea that if you are passionate about your work, it won’t feel like a chore or a burden, but rather an enjoyable and fulfilling experience in which you want to take part.

This is all a nice idea, but even in a job you love, is it really possible to feel like you’re never working? I spoke to career coaches, psychologists and people who genuinely love their jobs to find out what they think about the expression and how it relates to the reality of work.

It makes sense why the phrase appeals to people.

“When so many people are stressed and burnt out by work, the idea that you could have a job that doesn’t ‘feel like work’ is incredibly appealing,” said Lauren Appio, a psychologist, executive coach and organisational consultant who specialises in mental health at work. “It’s aspirational and soothing for people who live in a culture like ours in the U.S., where there is little social safety net and people typically have to work very hard to make ends meet.”

Many people have very negative relationships with their work. Gallup’s latest State of the Global Workplace report showed job dissatisfaction to be at an all-time high, along with staggering rates of unhappiness and disengagement.

“You hear about the ‘Sunday Scaries’ or a ‘case of the Mondays,’” said career strategist Ana Goehner. “Some people also believe that everyone hates their job. This expression gives people hope that finding a job they love makes their negative feelings about work go away.”

While people commonly attribute the quote to Confucius, there’s very little information regarding the origin of “find a job you love and you’ll never have to work a day.” Some citations of the expression date back to the 1980s, but it seems to be even more prominent in the Etsy era of embroidered quote pillows and inspirational memes.

“I think this mantra is almost as millennial as ‘live, laugh, love,’” said Kate Kennedy, author of the upcoming book “One in a Millennial” and host of the “Be There in Five” podcast. “I’m not sure when it became widespread, but I remember hearing it a lot in the early 2010s, whether it was a product of being post-recession, the start-up boom, or being in peak ‘Shark Tank’ America.”

Having entered the workforce amid the economic downturn of the Great Recession, Kennedy believes many young people were made to feel lucky to have any job at all.

“There comes the point of burnout where a lot of the joy is sapped from the hobby when it becomes your meal ticket.”

– Kate Kennedy

“That built-in sense of indebtedness to our employers normalised having a job you tolerated that paid the bills, so having a job you loved seemed like the most glamorous dream of all,” she said.

Meanwhile, technological advancements expanded our career options, with full-time bloggers, Instagram influencers and entrepreneurs monetising their hobbies through e-commerce and other new sources of income. Social media compounded the shift, as we saw people “just like us” showing off their flexible schedules, financial success and other aspects of these new aspirational work lifestyles.

“It’s hard not to find other people’s lives and careers more desirable based on how they portray them online,” Kennedy said. “It’s almost like the volume of options and the frequency of seeing successful examples of exercising those options created a sense of ‘elsewhere’ for careers, where during the moments you are feeling job dissatisfaction, it’s hard not to idealise doing something else.”

But the reality is often detached from the ideal.

“It’s important to acknowledge that not everyone has the luxury of choosing a job they love,” said Elizabeth Pearson, a women’s career coach and author of “Career Confinement.” “For many people, their work is simply a means to an end, and they may not find much enjoyment or fulfilment in it. Additionally, even if you do love your job, there will still be times when it feels like work ― deadlines, difficult projects and long hours can all take a toll on your energy and motivation.”

Having a job you love is no guarantee that you won't face challenges, difficult co-workers and other obstacles that make it feel like work, at least sometimes.

We Are via Getty Images

Having a job you love is no guarantee that you won’t face challenges, difficult co-workers and other obstacles that make it feel like work, at least sometimes.

Stressful situations, terrible bosses, difficult co-workers, economic downshifts and other obstacles can arise no matter how passionate you feel about your work. Thus, “find a job you love and you’ll never have to work a day in your life” is, for most people, more of a feel-good statement than a feasible reality.

“I see this idea sold to service professionals: Work for yourself and do what you love,” Goehner said. “But few people discuss the challenges of building a business and performing tasks you dislike. Few people talk about the issues you face and all the learning involved. Doing what you enjoy should be the norm, but it’s still work. You are still trying to make a living.”

Even if you have the freedom to take a leap and monetise your hobby, it probably will still feel like work at times.

“There comes the point of burnout where a lot of the joy is sapped from the hobby when it becomes your meal ticket,” Kennedy said. “The biggest issue for me when I started a product-based business was not having access to capital to outsource or hire out many of the functions to get off the ground efficiently, so it all fell on me to figure out, which ended up with me working way more hours for a lot less money than I made in my corporate job.”

The job doesn’t magically feel like it’s not work once you’ve found a sustainable way to make a comfortable living, either.

“I absolutely love my job, and I’m still beat by the end of the day,” Appio said. “It requires deep, sustained focus and active emotional processing and regulation for hours at a time. Outside of my sessions, I also complete paperwork, manage all of my billing, marketing and communications with clients and colleagues, offer consults for prospective clients, develop and deliver trainings, and pursue continuing education.”

Any job comes with difficult days, including one that overall brings fulfilment and joy. And it’s normal to not always want to devote the required time and effort to the job.

“Even when you find work you love, jobs are temporary,” Goehner added. “In our current economy, you won’t likely spend your entire career with one company and do the same tasks. Even people who dedicate their lives to their careers may have tough days or perform tasks they dislike. You do what you enjoy, receive pay and hopefully get recognised for your efforts.”

What you ‘love’ doesn’t always translate to success or happiness.

“Telling others to ‘do what you love!’ is an oversimplification. Doing what you enjoy is not enough. Doing what you’re good at ― and being willing to stick with something, even when what was fun is no longer so fun ― can be just as important,” said Gorick Ng, a career adviser at Harvard University and author of “The Unspoken Rules: Secrets to Starting Your Career Off Right.”

Consider whether you can leverage certain skills or expertise to succeed in your field.

“Maintaining the belief that work you love isn’t actually ‘work’ can create shame for people who feel burnt out or overwhelmed by work that they do truly love. This is especially common in work like health care, mental health and education.”

– Lauren Appio

“The expression doesn’t help people see possibilities based on where they are in their careers now,” Goehner said. “You can use your skills, gain new ones and find a workplace where you use 60-70% of the skills you enjoy. Sometimes, feeling a sense of expertise and having the freedom to share that at work can help you feel a sense of purpose or connection with your job.”

If you’re feeling drawn to a completely different path, give it a lot of thought and do your research. Ng emphasised that the idea of something is often more interesting than the thing itself.

“Would I like to be a musician? Sure! Can I sing to save my life? No!” he said. “And does singing the same song over and over again in a different city each week still sound fun when I haven’t been home for six months? I’m not so sure.”

“Your number one passion may not be a realistic career,” Goehner added. “I’d love to take care of baby pandas, but the likelihood of this happening is minimal. Also, what you love may not provide a decent living for yourself or your loved ones. It could be a source of income, but you may need to supplement it with another job. Love doesn’t always pay the bills.”

Even if you love a hobby like photography or baking, that doesn't mean you'll necessarily love the business of doing that hobby as a career.

Morsa Images via Getty Images

Even if you love a hobby like photography or baking, that doesn’t mean you’ll necessarily love the business of doing that hobby as a career.

Additionally, consider how you feel about the business of the thing you love, not just the activity or hobby itself.

“It’s great to have a dream job, but it’s also important to remember that you may not like the day-to-day tasks associated with monetising that dream,” Kennedy said. “I started a handmade business selling home decor where I hand-painted things, and I loved the category, I love working with my hands and being creative and I loved the idea of self-employment. But I didn’t spend most of my days doing an artist’s work ― I was mostly buried in things I was less passionate about, like shipping, fulfilment, customer service, and inventory management before I could afford help in those areas.”

Ng shared a time he met a talented photographer and asked if he wanted to pursue his art as a full-time career.

“His response surprised me,” Ng recalled. “He said, ‘I love taking photos, but I hate the business of taking photos. The minute I start relying on photography to pay the bills is the minute I’ll stop loving it.’ Be honest with yourself if you’re thinking of turning an interest into a career. Do you love the business of doing something as much as you love doing the thing itself? Not everyone will say yes to this question and that’s OK.”

The expression sets up workers for dissatisfaction and shame.

One problem with this idea about work? “It can keep people preoccupied with finding their ‘dream job’ and experiencing a chronic sense of dissatisfaction,” Appio said. “Because if your work feels like work ― as work does ― does that mean you’re doing something wrong?”

This fantasy of doing what you “love” and never feeling like you have to work can also lead to feelings of guilt or shame for those who don’t take a huge leap. This is especially true in the age of social media when we frequently see “creators” sharing all the highlights of their careers and few if any of the downsides.

“When I was in a corporate job, I wondered if I had ‘sold out’ or forwent meeting my potential by working in the corporate world,” Kennedy said. “Sometimes, it creates a fear that you actively chose to do something you don’t love when you could have followed your passion.”

There’s a sense of guilt for those who do make the choice to pursue a passion-based career.

“Maintaining the belief that work you love isn’t actually ‘work’ can create shame for people who feel burnt out or overwhelmed by work that they do truly love,” Appio said. “This is especially common in work like health care, mental health and education. Professionals in these areas may feel guilty or ‘ungrateful’ for experiencing compassion fatigue or needing a break.”

She also believes the “find a job you love and you’ll never work” expression can be used to further devalue creative or mission-driven work.

“If you love your job, people will often tell you that you ‘didn’t get into it for the money,’” Appio said. “But we all work to earn money, and even if we’d do our work for free in a different world, we all deserved to be paid well for the work we do.”

But it’s not completely off base.

“This is actually an expression that I believe in myself, and there have been moments where I lived it,” said career coach Jasmine Escalera. “The thing is, I do believe the expression needs to be tailored because it isn’t just about finding work you enjoy, but finding work that is connected to your purpose, to your passions and to your strengths.”

She believes a job that integrates the skills or tasks you’re particularly good at can make you feel inspired and as though you’re not working at all.

“The company culture is such an integral part of enjoying the work, as well,” Escalera said. “So I would say not just find a job you love, but find an environment that will let you be the most successful version of you, and you’ll never feel like you have to work a day in your life.”

Other experts offered their own rewrites of the expression.

“To make the expression accurate, I’d say, ‘Find a job you enjoy and that recognises your efforts, and build time for hobbies and activities that bring purpose outside of work,’” Goehner said. “You are more than your job.”

“I’d tell people if they haven’t found a job they love, to find a job comprised of tasks they like and do what they love on the side,” Kennedy added. “Jobs are often more about the day-to-day than the broader industry or buzzwordy job description, and paying attention to the type of work you find engaging can be a good way to find job satisfaction within the confines of being employed by someone else.”

Whether you’ve monetised a hobby or simply work to pay the bills and seek greater purpose elsewhere, Ng noted that there is no objective right or wrong in your approach to your career, just a difference in personal choices and values.

If you do want to find meaning in work, however, he shared this rewrite: “Find something that brings you joy and purpose every day, and you’ll always have something to look forward to.”

“Ultimately, the idea that you should ‘find a job you love’ is a good one, but it’s not always realistic or feasible,” Pearson echoed. “Instead, it’s important to strive for a job that aligns with your values and provides some level of fulfilment, while also being realistic about the fact that work is still work, even if you love it.”

This story was previously published on an earlier date.

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I Hid My Disability At Work For 6 Years. When I Stopped, My Entire Life Changed.

In 2002, I planned a monthlong solo trip to Australia.

On my second day on the trail, while crossing an ankle-deep stream, I slipped and my body flipped 180 degrees. I hit my head and then rolled off the side of a waterfall. The waterfall was about 3 feet high and I landed in a reservoir pool. A German tourist, who happened to be there, dragged me out of the pool.

After the fall, I sat on the riverbank — stunned, confused and very concussed — while my tour leader climbed down the bank to meet me.

“Do you want medical attention?” the 20-something tour leader asked.

My mind flashed back to the medical insurance I had booked for the trip. “Emergency helicopter evacuation costs an additional $250,000,” it read.

“I’m OK,” I replied quickly.

On the short hike to our base camp, I repeatedly tripped and bumped into things. My clothes were covered in blood and my body had cuts and bruises everywhere. I stayed at camp and skipped the hikes for the remaining two days. When I finally got back into Sydney, I walked into the hotel lobby and a guest looked at me before loudly announcing, “Can someone get this woman medical attention?”

With my cuts, bruises, disoriented demeanour, and the same muddy and torn trail pants, I can only imagine how alarming I looked.

At this point, I was too concussed to evaluate what my medical insurance would or wouldn’t cover. And so I refused medical attention and assured the staff I just needed to rest.

A few days later, I flew back to the States.

As my bruises and cuts healed, I thought the worst of it was over. I saw a doctor in New York who ran some tests.

“Everything looks clear to me. You’ve just had a bad concussion,” he said.

Before the accident, a regular day of my life included a 5 a.m. workout, working my corporate marketing job until 10 p.m., and then attending weekday drinks out with co-workers, friends or clients. Somehow, among all that, I maintained a social life and part-time freelance gigs.

A few months after returning from Australia, my co-workers and I were invited on a yacht trip hosted by Forbes magazine. As the boat left the dock, I knew something wasn’t right. I felt disoriented, unwell, and struggled to hold a conversation. I sat in one spot for the whole trip.

When we got back to the harbour, I held onto the rail as I took careful, unbalanced steps. “Wow Jill, it seems like you didn’t hold back on those cocktails,” a co-worker teased.

I hadn’t drunk at all. One of my colleagues helped me into a cab, and I assumed I was seasick.

A few more months went by and I attended a business lunch where something similar happened. I was looking out the windows of the restaurant watching the curtains float in the breeze and cyclists zoom past. I felt woozy and as if I were underwater. I couldn’t concentrate on what my colleagues were saying. When I tried to go to the bathroom, I struggled to stand up. My body flopped back into the chair like a rag doll.

“I think I need to leave,” I said. Strangely, I returned to the office for the rest of the workday. Somehow, I made it back in one piece.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I’m seriously not right,” I remember thinking. I was scared.

I booked countless doctor appointments. Whenever a specialist realised they didn’t know how to help me, they stopped answering my phone calls. I had no answers. I was determined to figure it out so I started tracking my triggers: constant movement in my line of sight, flickering lights, loud ambulance sirens, the brakes of the New York City subway screeching to a stop, loud baritone voices — and the list went on. In other words, New York City had transformed itself from a bustling wonderland to a total vestibular nightmare.

Even though I was noticing triggers, I still had no explanation for regularly appearing drunk, slurring words, being unable to concentrate and exhausting easily.

Without a diagnosis or even the vocabulary to describe what was happening to me, I felt a tremendous amount of shame and guilt. I must have done something wrong. How could I be so dumb? I also feared what my injury would mean for my job security. It felt like everyone around me associated value only with high levels of productivity. I had reason to believe that my worth was based on my output. Who wants someone with an undiagnosed head injury on their team?

It is estimated that 10% of people in the United States have an invisible or non-apparent disability. I’d like to think that corporate culture has more awareness and training on disabilities than it did in the early 2000s. However, research shows that there’s still a long way to go. According to Harvard Business Review, most people with non-apparent or invisible disabilities choose not to disclose these to their managers for fear of being seen as less capable and having their career progress stalled.

In the years following my injury, my brain’s default was: If they know, I will lose out on opportunities. Eventually they will fire me. And if I lost my job, then the unthinkable would happen: I’d lose my employer-sponsored health insurance.

Outside of rent and food, all my income was going to medical practitioners that weren’t covered by insurance. Some years, I was paying $50,000 in medical bills (half my salary). I resented that I worked just as hard but I didn’t have the same financial freedom my co-workers had. (I was often asked why I didn’t own an apartment yet and the implication was that I must have spent all my money on shoes.) But without a steady income and health insurance, the diagnosis and treatment plan I desperately wanted would never happen.

For six years, I didn’t tell anyone at work, including HR. As the years went on, I occasionally opened up to a boss whom I saw as an “ally.” Most of the time, they didn’t really listen to me (or my admission was viewed as an inconvenience or it was a “private matter” like getting my period).

And so, I stopped speaking up. I tried to manage triggers as best I could to hide my disability. But “sucking it up” was slowly killing me. My symptoms were getting worse and my vestibular attacks were becoming longer and more frequent.

My catalyst to change my circumstances was a horrible appointment with a neurologist.

This doctor informed me that — to prevent continued deterioration — I needed to avoid all forms of transport or I’d eventually be completely bedridden because, after all, he had “seen this before.”

“Enough! You don’t get to tell me how my life is going to play out” was my primary thought. I resolved to figure out a solution for myself, since health care had failed me.

I read every book, web forum and magazine on brain health. Learning about vestibular disorders and accessing the vocabulary to describe my condition was my ultimate breakthrough. I realised it wasn’t all in my head. I learned why certain triggers caused vestibular attacks.

Discovering clinical language empowered me to be able to describe what I was experiencing. It also gave me evidence of triggers to avoid.

At this point, I had advanced to a higher level of leadership in corporate. My role in the company coupled with my deep knowledge of brain injuries meant I was able to advocate for myself.

I was no longer asking for permission to have my accommodations met.

Instead, I would simply ask people if they could stop swaying their bodies so we could finish our conversation. Or I’d ask them to please quit shaking their leg, which vibrated the floor and therefore me. Or to please cease pounding the conference room table when they wanted to make their point. I clearly explained that these actions created vibrations that triggered my vestibular disorder. It was not easy for people to understand or remember.

My entire life changed.

I started setting healthier work boundaries. I unequivocally prioritised my health. When I was working, I was fully present. Eventually, I transitioned into entrepreneurship, because I knew my skill set could be expertly translated to coaching and helping people working in corporate with their career strategy ― and I could maintain higher quality health on my own schedule.

From my own informal research, so many people with disabilities work for themselves because it’s often a more predictable environment than working for an employer.

Looking back, I wonder if my journey would have been different if I had felt comfortable telling people about my disability. Perhaps it would have if there was more awareness and compassion toward people with non-apparent and invisible disabilities. If employer handbooks mentioned non-apparent and invisible disabilities, maybe I would have felt safe speaking up. Or maybe when I did address my disability with leadership, my condition would have been met with compassion rather than criticism.

Instead of living in hiding for six years, perhaps it would have taken me one year to own my disability. Or a few months. Instead of living with shame and guilt, maybe I would have experienced a more inclusive experience.

I often describe my head injury as a gift. Because of it, I am a better leader. I have heightened empathy, I have more compassion, I seek diversity and inclusion in all spaces, and I have a totally positive outlook on life. Anything is possible. But it took me decades to realise this truth.

I truly hope to live in a society that makes this journey easier for anyone else who is born with — or acquires — a non-apparent or invisible disability. This all starts with a culture of support, openness and compassion.

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